FIFTEEN
They hadn’t talked about what had happened. Two days later and Nic and Jo had gone back into their regular schedule, working on Frankie and piecing weapons together. Nic didn’t bring it up and neither did Jo, both somehow afraid to broach the subject. It was as if they were both afraid of the outcome should the other bring it up, as if it were a bomb they could just ignore until it blew up, but Jo knew that eventually, it really would explode, and they’d have no choice. For now, she was content to pretend nothing had happened, that they were just two people working on a car for the Race Games.
They’d managed to get three of the larger weapons affixed and connected to Frankie. Because their car wasn’t as high tech as many of the others, some of the weapons were apparent on the car, unable to be hidden in special compartments. As it was, there was a rather large gun affixed to the hood, ready to decimate enemies if needed. Some of the smaller weapons had already been added, easy enough to wire up and put in the car. It was some of the other large ones taken from junkyard cars that were getting on Jo’s nerves.
“Why can’t this piece of shit just work?” she growled, trying again to tighten down bolts, but the weapon wasn’t forming to Frankie’s frame. It simply wasn’t made for this car.
“Can we cut it to fit?” Nic asked, frowning at the weapon. “Maybe if we—”
“There’s no extra metal on the gun,” Jo answered, trying to hold onto her patience. Nic wasn’t as adept at mechanics and computers as she was so it wasn’t fair to snap at him. Still, it took everything in her and a grind of her teeth not to growl. “We can’t just trim off metal.”
Nic frowned and studied it. “Maybe a mounting plate of some sort? Expand it?”
Jo blinked. That was actually a good idea. “Maybe. We’ll need more sheet metal. Perhaps if we—”
“Inspection,” someone called, a stranger, and Nic and Jo immediately sprung from their spots on the other side of the car, both in defense mode. Nic had a sizable wrench in his hand. Jo’s fingers tipped into claws in case battle was about to happen.
But on the other side of the car, they found a rather short elf with glasses on the end of his nose. Old, but still not fully showing his age.
“What did you say?” Jo asked, frowning.
“I said, I’m here for an inspection. You are Nicolas Olcan and Johanna Adalwolf, are you not?”
“Inspection for what?” Nic dropped the wrench and crossed his arms.
“Rule Number Three Hundred B states that all vehicles entered in the Race Games are subject to inspection and must sport certain assets in order to be approved. I’m here to complete that inspection.” His eyes immediately went to Frankie and he harumphed at the mishmashed parts. “I assume there will be some issues with this junk.”
“That rule is never enforced and was reversed nearly twenty years ago,” Jo pointed out. “The goblins enter every race with a barely functioning car.”
“Not my concern,” the elf said. “I’m just doing my job.”
“When did it become your job to harass the wolf team?” Nic growled, glaring at the elf. “There’s never been in person inspections before and like Jo said, it’s been reversed in the rule book.”
“It’s always been there,” he tried.
“Bullshit,” Nic growled, taking a step forward. Jo had to hold his arm so he didn’t make an even bigger mistake.
“The reversal has been reversed for this race,” the elf continued, unconcerned with Nic’s threatening stance. “The rule is back in effect as of yesterday.”
“Now you can’t even keep your story straight. This is some backwards bullshit to try to keep us out of the race.” Nic bared his teeth, angry, but Jo just shook her head, knowing it was pointless. This was just another hurdle.
“Complete your inspection then,” Jo ordered. “And hurry up. We have work to do.”
The elf circled the car, scratching on his notepad in elvish, a language neither Nic nor Jo knew how to read. It only got on their nerves as the scratch of the pencil on the paper grew louder when he looked under the hood.
“Fail,” the elf declared after he completed his look around.
“What?” Nic growled.
Jo frowned. “Why?”
“There are no magical elements within the engine. As it’s a requirement in the reinstated rule, your car is not fit to race.” He wrote on his notepad and ripped off the paper, handing it to them as if they could read the language.
“That’s not even in the rules,” Nic spit.
In answer, the elf held up a rulebook, newly printed, and tossed it to them. “Turn to page seventeen.”
Nic flipped it open and leaned into Jo so they could both read it. Sure enough, there in the second paragraph, a new rule about the engine needing to have some supernatural element in it was written. It was clearly directed at the wolves, one of the teams who rarely ever added such things to their engine, and though Jo wanted to rip the elves into shreds, she nodded her head.
“There it is, indeed.”
“So you’re going to give the goblins shit, too, right?” Nic snarled. “Oh wait, this is all rigged to keep the wolves from racing, not anyone else.”
He sniffed. “You have forty-eight hours to fix the problem, or you don’t race.” And then the small elf turned and left without a backward glance.
The race wasn’t for a couple of weeks still, but needing to fix the problem in forty-eight hours was going to be hard. The money was low. They didn’t have the parts handy, and it would take too long to get them out there.
“We’re never going to get those parts or the money for them,” Nic said, mimicking her thoughts. “This doesn’t make any sense. The race isn’t for a couple of weeks.”
“It’s the corruption,” Jo agreed, frowning. Sighing, she pulled out her phone. “Guess there’s only one thing to do.”
Jo dialed the phone number programmed into her phone and waited until the bright fae answered on the second ring.
“Hello, Jo!”
“Hey Cricket,” Jo murmured. “We’d like to agree to the deal after all, but we have an issue.”
Jo could feel Cricket’s smile through the phone. “Oh, I can help with anything you need,” she said.