“But know this. Someone has killed one of our own, and I will do everything in my power to find this person and make sure that he or she is punished accordingly.” Claudia’s voice rang with steely authority. “I promise it to every person in the Family, just as I promised it to Vance last night.”
Silence fell over the room. No one spoke, and no one moved.
“But until then, we will do our absolute best today, and we will show everyone—everyone—what the Sinclairs are really made of.” Claudia raised her sword high, mimicking the Family crest. “For Vance!”
We all shot to our feet, raised our own swords, and echoed her words. “For Vance!”
And we all meant it—every single Sinclair.
CHAPTER TWENTY
After breakfast, we packed up our gear and went to the fairgrounds.
We got there early, but the stone bleachers were already full, and practically every seat was taken, since this was the last and most popular day of the tournament. I filed into the stadium with the rest of the Sinclairs. Everyone stared at us, with whispers springing up in our wake. Everyone had heard what had happened to Vance, and the other Families were waiting to see how we would react.
Claudia led the way, waving and talking to folks she knew, and acting like nothing was wrong. But she didn’t so much as crack a smile, and anger still burned in her eyes. We all followed her example.
Claudia, Reginald, Mo, and Oscar headed up to the Sinclair box, while Angelo went over to the healers’ tent. Devon, Felix, and I headed toward the chain-link fence to wait for the first match of the day to start. Claudia had arranged for Henry to take Vance’s spot in the tournament, so there were still thirty-two competitors left, and the field would be narrowed to sixteen, then eight, then four. After a break, the action would pick up again this afternoon, and the final four would face off. Once the final match was finished and the winner determined, the tournament would wrap up, and a barbecue dinner and after-party would be held at the lake, just like it had been last night.
Devon, Felix, and I walked past Katia, who was standing with the Volkov guards who were still in the tournament. Katia smiled at me, then deliberately sniffed and turned her back to Felix. Couldn’t blame her for that. I’d seen how much she cared about him, so I knew how much he had hurt her, even though he hadn’t meant to.
Felix winced, but there was nothing he could do or say to make things better with Katia.
Poppy was waiting for us at the fence, and she rushed over the second she saw us. “You guys! I’m so sorry about Vance!”
Devon accepted her condolences on behalf of the Sinclairs. Poppy looked like she wanted to say more, but she realized that we didn’t want to talk about it. So she hugged us all, then went back over to the Ito guards.
Several folks from the other Families also came up and offered their sympathies. Devon nodded and spoke graciously to all of them. So did Felix. But I didn’t talk to anyone. I was too busy staring into their eyes and using my soulsight, trying to figure out which one of them might have killed Vance. But everyone radiated genuine shock and sorrow, instead of secret satisfaction. Nobody that I looked at had anything to do with Vance’s murder.
Blake and Deah were the last ones to come over to us, with Blake swaggering out front and Deah behind him.
Blake stopped in front of Devon. “I’m supposed to come over here and say how sorry I am about Vance and blah, blah, blah. So there you go.”
Devon’s hands curled into fists as though he wanted to punch Blake in the face. “Wow. Thanks for the sympathy.”
Blake snorted. “Whatever. If you ask me, Vance was an idiot for going that far back in the woods. He got what he deserved.”
I stared into his eyes. His brown gaze was cold as usual, but I didn’t feel that certain smugness that would tell me Blake’s words had some deadly, hidden meaning. He might be a grade A jerk, but Blake wasn’t the person who had killed Vance.
But if he hadn’t, who had?
Devon’s hands clenched together even tighter, his knuckles cracking from the pressure, and he took a step forward as though he was going to give in to his urge to punch Blake. But Deah sidled in between them.
“We really are sorry about Vance,” she said. “I didn’t know him, but nobody deserves what he went through.”
Sincerity and sympathy filled her face, and her genuine words were enough to get Devon to loosen his fists.
“Thanks, Deah,” he said. “Good luck today.”
She nodded. “You too. Let’s go, Blake. We need to get ready for our matches.”
Blake sneered at us again, but he let Deah lead him back over to the rest of the Draconis.
Devon waited until they were out of earshot before he turned to me. “Did you see anything when you looked at him?”
I sighed. “Unfortunately, no. I hate to say this, but I don’t think Blake had anything to do with Vance’s murder. Neither has anyone else who’s come up to us today.”
“Then who did it?” Felix asked.
I stared out over the competitors with their cavalier hats and colorful cloaks, the tourist rubes in the bleachers with their cameras and cotton candy, the Family officials high up in the glass boxes.
“I have no idea,” I muttered.
The officials announced that the tournament would start in five minutes, so Felix wished us good luck, left Devon and me at the fence, and headed over to the healers’ tent to join Angelo.
Katia was in the first match of the day. She smiled and waved to the crowd, then stepped up to face her opponent. The official lowered his arm, and the match began.
The Salazar guard raised his weapon and went on the offensive, but Katia slid out of his way too fast to follow. Seriously. One second, she was standing right in front of the guy, and the next, she was behind him, raising her sword. The guard barely managed to whip back around in time to bring up his weapon.
The match went on, with Katia moving faster and faster with every second that passed. It looked like she’d finally gotten her groove back. Or perhaps her anger at Felix and having her heart broken was what was fueling her magic, her quickness, today. Hey, you used what worked.
And it definitely worked for Katia, who was able to draw first blood barely a minute into the match. She grinned and saluted the crowd with her sword, and everyone cheered. Katia skipped over to the Volkov guards, basking in their congratulations as well. She saw me watching her and waved. I smiled and waved back, glad that she was happy.
The day and the matches wore on. Henry lost his match, but everyone gave him a long, loud standing ovation, and there was a moment of silence for Vance. It wasn’t nearly enough, though, and I vowed again to figure out who had killed Vance.
Devon and I both won our first matches, putting us in the field of sixteen, along with Katia. Deah easily won her match as well. Blake also made it through to the round of sixteen, where he faced a familiar foe—Poppy.
A couple of weeks ago, Blake had humiliated and practically assaulted Poppy in front of his friends. He sneered at her the whole time the official was reviewing the rules, hefting the sword in his hands like he wanted to bring it down and split her skull wide open. He probably did. Blake was a sick jerk that way. But Poppy just twirled her two short swords around and around in her hands, ignoring him.
The fight began, and Blake raised his sword and charged at Poppy, trying to overwhelm her right away with his strength Talent. But she stepped up to meet him, used her speed magic to sidestep and trip him as he went by, and neatly sliced both of her swords across his left arm, drawing first blood and knocking him out of the tournament.
Poppy smiled and waved to the crowd, and I clapped, yelled, and whistled as loud as I could. I was glad that she’d finally gotten a little bit of revenge on Blake for the horrible way he’d treated her.
For a moment, Blake just stood there in the center of the ring, a stunned look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe what had happened. That Poppy had beaten him. That he had lost s
o quickly. Then he slowly turned and looked up at the Draconi box, as if he was dreading what he was going to see.
Victor was on his feet, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowed, his lips puckered in displeasure. He didn’t like Blake losing.
I wondered if Victor would call Blake a loser like he had Deah, after she’d lost the obstacle-course round to Katia. Maybe it was mean of me, but I hoped that Victor was even harder on Blake than he had been on Deah.
And I couldn’t help calling out to Blake when he stormed by.
“Aw, too bad you got knocked out of the tournament already, Blake. And by a girl. That must be particularly humiliating for you, seeing as how you’re a high and mighty Draconi and all.”
Blake glared at me, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword as if he wanted to pull it out and skewer me with it. “Ito got lucky, that’s all. The same way that you and Sinclair have gotten lucky so far. Deah will still win the tournament. Just wait and see.”
He gave me another evil glare and stomped off, probably to go up to the Draconi box, now that he was out of the tournament. Good riddance.
Poppy got knocked out in the next round, but Devon, Katia, Deah, and I all won our matches, then the ones after that, making us the final four competitors in the tournament.
It was just after noon when the officials called for a break, saying that the final matches would start at two o’clock sharp. All the folks from the Family boxes came down from on high to mingle with their guards and offer their congratulations to the folks still in the tournament. Claudia, escorted by Reginald, made her way through the crowd, stopping to talk to the other competitors, but Mo made a beeline straight for me.
“Keep up the good work, kid,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “I’ve been placing a lot of bets on you. Everyone thinks that Deah is going to win, but we know better, don’t we?”
He winked, and I had to laugh.
“Don’t count your money just yet, Mo,” I said. “Deah’s a good fighter. So are Devon and Katia. Any one of us could win.”
He waved his hand, causing the diamond signet ring on one finger to flash in the sunlight. “Bah. This tournament is yours to lose, kid. Just like it was your mom’s before you.”
Startled, I looked at him. “What? Mom competed in the tournament too?”
Mo nodded. “When she was your age. She won it too. A couple of years in a row, including the summer she left town.”
Before all the bad stuff had gone down with my dad. Before Victor had sent Luke out to be killed by that nest of copper crushers. Before my mom and dad could leave the Families and Cloudburst Falls behind like they’d been planning. That’s what Mo really meant.
My mom had never hidden her past from me. She’d told me about working for the Sinclairs, meeting and falling in love with my dad, even the problems she’d had with Victor and the other Families. But I’d never known that she’d won the Tournament of Blades—and not just once.
“I didn’t know that,” I said in a soft voice. “She never told me about competing in the tournament.”
Mo stared out over the stadium, his eyes dark and distant with memories. “This is where Serena and Luke actually met. They had to fight each other in the last round. Serena had knocked Victor out of the tournament to get to the final round, and it was winner take all between her and your dad. It was one of the best matches I’ve ever seen, but your mom finally drew first blood. And Luke was a good sport about it too. He and your mom started talking, and, well, things happened from there between them.”
“Why didn’t she ever tell me any of this?”
He shrugged. “She didn’t like dwelling on the past, especially when it came to your dad. You know that.”
No, she hadn’t. My mom hadn’t hidden her past from me, but she hadn’t been very chatty about it either. Even when we’d come back to Cloudburst Falls every summer, I’d had to beg and beg her to tell me stories of what the town had been like when she was a kid, of all the things she’d seen and done, of all the plans that she and my dad had had for the future.
Plans that had never happened, thanks to Victor.
Mo squeezed my shoulder, sensing how much this meant to me, but I couldn’t help wondering what else my mom hadn’t told me. Sure, her winning the Tournament of Blades wasn’t exactly an important secret, but what other things might she have kept from me—
“There you are!” a voice called out. “Darling, you were fabulous!”
Mo and I looked over. Seleste Draconi had come down from the Family box and was racing toward Deah, her arms outstretched, ready to hug her the second Deah was in range. Seleste was wearing another one of her long, flowing dresses, this one in a sapphire blue that made her look more beautiful than ever. Her hair gleamed like polished gold in the sun, although her eyes were the same unnaturally bright blue that I remembered from the cemetery.
Almost like . . . monster eyes.
That’s what Seleste’s eyes reminded me of. All the bright, glowing, jewel-toned eyes of the monsters as they crept through the shadows at night.
Everyone stared at Seleste as she drew Deah close, kissed both her cheeks, and then hugged her tight. An embarrassed blush flamed in Deah’s cheeks, but she was smiling wide, and she hugged Seleste right back.
Jealousy pinched my heart. My mom would have done the same thing, would have hugged me just like that, if she’d still been alive.
But she wasn’t, and Victor and Blake were to blame for that.
Deah hugged her mom back for a few more seconds before stepping out of her arms. “Thanks, Mom.” She shot a nervous look at Victor, who had walked over and joined them. “But shouldn’t you be up in the Family box resting? You know how the sun and the heat can get to you.”
Victor sighed. “Your mother insisted on coming down and congratulating you in person, even though I told her that she could have just texted you.”
“Well, that was nice of her.” Deah brightened for a moment, but the expression wilted under her father’s stern glare. “Wasn’t it?”
Victor didn’t respond. Instead, he studied the other competitors, the same sort of sneer on his face that was always on Blake’s. “Well,” he said. “If this is your competition, there’s absolutely no excuse for you to lose the tournament.”
His voice dripped with disgust, telling everyone within earshot his low opinion of the remaining competitors. But even worse was the sharp, pointed look he gave Deah, and all the malice shimmering in his golden eyes. It was a clear warning that she would win the tournament or else something very unpleasant might happen—to her.
“Yes, sir,” Deah said in a faint voice.
Victor must have sensed my staring at him because he turned and looked in my direction. My gaze locked with his, and my soulsight immediately flared to life, letting me feel the absolute ice of his emotions and all his hatred for everyone around him—including his own wife.
In that instant, I realized that Victor barely tolerated Seleste and all her odd behavior, and only kept her around because her visions of the future were useful. The second she stopped being useful . . . well, I was willing to bet that Seleste would end up just like my parents—dead.
I shivered. I could easily imagine Victor tearing Seleste’s Talent for seeing the future out of her. Part of me was surprised he hadn’t done it already. Or perhaps he only wanted the information from the visions and had no desire to actually experience them for himself. Not if it meant being like Seleste.
Seleste noticed Victor staring at me, and she brightened and headed in my direction. Mo grabbed my shoulder again, his fingers digging into my skin in a clear warning.
“No matter what she says, act like you don’t know what she’s talking about,” he muttered.
“Why?”
“Just do it, kid,” Mo hissed.
Seleste marched over and grabbed my hands. “Darling! There you are! It’s so good to see you again!” she beamed at me, squeezing my hands tight in hers.
&n
bsp; With her strength Talent, it felt like she was on the verge of cracking my bones. I winced, and she loosened her hold.
“Oops. Sorry. I don’t know my own strength sometimes.” She winked at me. “Just making sure that you were real. Sometimes, I have to do that, you know. I’m sure you remember that about me.”
“Um, okay.”
It seemed that she had mistaken me for my mom again, so it wasn’t hard to pretend to be confused. But why did she keep doing that? It wasn’t as if Seleste had actually known my mom . . . had she?
I frowned, but I didn’t have time to focus on the thought, not with Deah glaring daggers at me, and Victor and Blake striding over, scowls fixed on both of their faces.
Seleste kept staring at me, but Victor stopped and looked at Mo, his lips puckering in thought.
“Um, who are you?” I asked Seleste, keeping up the charade that I had never met her before.
Just like that, her sunny smile vanished, and utter misery filled her face. “You know exactly who I am. I’m Seleste, your best friend. Don’t you remember me?”
I looked at Mo for help. This time, I wasn’t faking it.
“Hello, Seleste,” he said in a soft, gentle voice. “I think you’re a little confused. I don’t think you’ve ever met Lila before. Lila Merriweather.”
He put a little extra emphasis on my fake last name. I didn’t know why, but it worked, and I could almost see the proverbial light bulb snap on above Seleste’s head.
She looked at him, then me, then back at him. “Oh. I guess you’re right. My mistake.”
She shrugged, then turned, looped her arms through Victor’s and Blake’s, and started skipping away with them. At least, she tried to. They weren’t having any of the skipping, but they let her drag them off into the crowd. Then again, they didn’t have much choice, with her strength magic pulling them along.
Deah stayed behind, though, and she turned her hot glare to me the second her father and brother were out of earshot. “Who does my mom keep confusing you with?”
Before I could think of some lie, Mo answered her. “Lila’s mother,” he said, still staring after Seleste. “Her name was Serena.”
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