Into the Churn

by Hayley Reese Chow

She tilted her face higher until her mouth found his in the dark, pressing a kiss soft and sweet against his lips. “Have I told you I love you yet?” “Only the once,” he whispered back to her, trailing a line of kisses down her neck. “That’s not enough,” she said breathlessly. “I agree.” And he smiled, his lips against her ear. “Tell me again…”

She murmured in her sleep, instinctively burying her face in his chest, and he pressed a kiss to her temple. No matter what happened the rest of the day, he would remember this—that it had begun perfectly.

Foster looked at Sylvia, scarcely allowing himself to believe it. To hope. “This is a game-changer.”

Foster stood strangely still, sleek and strong and confident in his new topsuit.

and dotted among them were swaths of Belethean teal. Unable to be contained, a swelling chant vibrated from the stands. “To the churn! To the churn!”

Ezren laughed dryly. “Foster, we’re going into the churn belt. There will be no avoiding these things.”

He pressed his helmet to hers. “Listen, I just want you to know that I’m glad to be here with you. I’m glad Micah talked you into it. I’m glad you were late to the tryout. And there is no place I’d rather be right now than right here with you.”

Ezren sucked in a breath, her cheeks heating beneath her helmet. She had no words to match those, and even if she had, she would never find them through the insistent buzz of nerves and love rushing through her. “Me too,” she breathed.

“Belethea, mother of mountains and skies…” Foster whispered beside her. “Protect us,” Ezren finished with him. “Get set.” Just run. “Go!”

If I make a judgment call, will you follow me? She glanced at him, his irises reflecting the navy of the twisting clouds above. Foster: Anywhere.

Foster seized her by the wrist and pulled her to safety. “Are you all right?” And oddly, Ezren began to laugh. “Blime! Totally blime!” He looked at her with curious eyes edged with a smile. “You must be out of your mind.” “And it’s wonderful.”

Whatever mercy or softness in her had already been crushed out by the long miles, and the dregs of her adrenaline resurged as she pursued her assailant.

“The only rule out here is the first to the finish line wins. That’s it. Everything else is just entertainment and creds.”

“Team Sterling/Hart checking in, healthy status, current place: third.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” He patted her leg. “Yes. You know I’ll always wake you up on time.”

Ezren could’ve reasoned that she fell asleep in the maelstrom because she trusted Foster with every cell of her being. Which was true. More than that, though, she was really just too tired to keep her eyes open even if she wanted to. But she knew if anyone could get them through the jaws of a hellish sea, it would be Foster Sterling.

The elevator dinged, and they stepped inside. If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Foster might’ve laughed at the mundane sounds of the elevator while they decided the fate of planets amid the raging churn belt.

The BRR was a hugely physical race, but the mind always gave up before the body, and he couldn’t let her do that. Not when they’d come this far.

She shifted from one foot to the other. “Low blow.” But the corner of her mouth twitched up, and Foster straightened with the small victory.

This is a speed bump, Ezren, not the end. You just have to believe it.”

“Do you believe in us?” she whispered. His heart twisted with an almost painful love.

He leaned down, kissing her forehead and then her lips. “I have never believed in anyone more than I believe in you.”

Foster’s stormy gaze bore into hers, sincere and confident. “Of course you’re feeling weak. But that’s okay. That’s normal, and they’re feeling it too. This is going to be two tired-ass teams slugging it out. And of all the people I’ve met, you are by far the best at functioning on no sleep.”

There’s a theory that the terranium itself is what creates all the energy in the churn belt. That if you removed the terranium, Belethea would have survivable storms like everywhere else.”

“He’s Belethean,” Ezren whispered, still dumbstruck. “How could he do this?

“They’re driving up the price to bring more attention to the event. This isn’t about national honor, or tradition, or humanity versus the elements…” His face darkened. “It’s about money.”

“Chaffing suns.” Foster knelt in front of her. “You’re telling me, after we worked our asses off for months, for fodding years, that the girl who never gives up is throwing in the towel because some asschaff is trying to rig the game?”

“Not after you charged into my life with all that talk of fixing the world and helping Belethea.” He stabbed a finger into her knee. “Not after you brought our team, and the city, and the whole fodding planet back to life.” His face softened a touch. “Not after you made me believe in you. I won’t let you stop believing in yourself.” He squeezed her leg, his gaze warm and earnest. “I won’t let you give up that easy, Ezren Hart. You deserve more than that. And so does Belethea.”

“I wanted to have a voice to tell people about Belethea and the progress we were making. Of the possibilities of the technology. I wanted them to see that it wasn’t just a dream. That it was worth the price.”

“They’ll listen to you, Ezren. With this kind of proof, I know they will.” Foster straightened and offered his hand to help her up. “Trust me, you’re a hard person to ignore.”

He’d always been able to best Talmadge on the legs and wheels, but the fodder never let him forget that he would always get his ass handed to him in the brawl. He was bigger and older, but Foster refused to believe that he was in any way smarter.

Because even though an underdog might be outmatched in every way, they could still fight harder, fight longer, want it more—and nine times out of ten, that could make all the difference.

Her body strained with the obvious effort of maintaining consciousness through the all-encompassing agony. Foster winced, nearly feeling the pain with her. Suns, he’d been in her spot before. He knew how bad it was. And yet, he would’ve given anything to bear this for her—to swap places with her.

A narrow wind-tunnel-like canyon that made the heart of the churn belt survivable… but also had a terrible way of crushing all the royalers together into the worst scraps.

Suns, it was way easier to be hurt than to watch the person you loved hurting.

Foster had to keep his jaw from swinging open at her inhuman strength. Suns, she was beautiful. He really did love her.

He took her good hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Last leg. We can do this.”

Here at the center of the belt, the storm never ended. It forever swirled in a torrent of destruction fueled by the unparalleled energy venting up from the sub-surface terranium.

Foster stiffened and grabbed Ezren, pulling her behind him.

Belethea is first and foremost in my heart. She is wild and free, emotional and open, powerful and godly.”

After this, he promised himself, he was getting out of the royale game. If he survived that long.

Despite all of her close calls and the hundreds of times she’d been battered on the surface, she’d never been scared of a storm before.

He turned his body to shelter her from the storm’s pelting debris. “You okay?”

She flattened herself against the mauve dirt, and Foster followed suit, pressing his body against hers as the wind tried to tear him away from her. The pain in Ezren’s arm rattled her bones, but it was nothing compared to the terror-induced adrenaline washing through her.

Foster gave her a brief squeeze. “Have I told you how much you impress me?”

Dressed only in a sports bra and compression shorts, her skin had already turned an angry red, and a bruised ring started to swell around her throat, but she was free. “Ezren! Are you okay?” His breath came fast as he wrapped her in his arms, trying to protect her from the shards of debris raining down on them.

Every muscle screaming in pain, beyond exhaustion, and his heart pumping with rage and desperation. He had to get Ezren safe.

“And Sterling/Hart and Brook/Talmadge have finished with a bang!”

Then a high shriek that sounded suspiciously like Sylvia pierced through the rumbling crowd. “Foster Sterling is proposing!”

Foster’s right hand spasmed with a jolt of pain. Everything was falling apart around them. They’d won, hadn’t they? How had it come to this?