by F. F. John
“Please note that due to his bravery, Scion Vesta was the actual winner of this competition. Unfortunately for him, the rules of the competition worked against him. Had he won the first challenge, he would have accrued enough points to be in the lead. Still, a round of applause for Scion Vesta.”
Erhart fidgeted with his hands the whole time Portan was speaking about him. His jerky movements suggested an insecurity that I’ve never noticed until now. I’ve seen him at events and he’s always been quiet. This obvious discomfort at having the attention on him is contrary to the confidence and determination he showed in the shell when killing skuliki and working with the other participants.
As he tips forward for his wreath, I remember the alarm he displayed right before the skuliki appeared. He’d been so terrified, he’d frozen in place and even Invier couldn’t get him to move. That has to be the source of his current attitude. It’s a shame, though because he won this challenge and should be proud. Few of us, myself included, could have dealt with that experience as bravely as he did.
When he lifts his head, his eyes jump around, never settling on mine. They are small and placed far too closely to a hooked nose and tiny mouth, making him look … mousy.
Pivoting to return to Portan, I catch a wide grin from Invier and I smile back. With him winning this second challenge, he could become the Paladin after all. There are four more competitions and if I can find a way to get him to the finish line, we’ll be together. That way, I won’t end up with anyone other than him.
Placing a golden wreath on his brown hair, I kiss him. What was supposed to be a peck on the cheek becomes one on the lips as he moves his head at the wrong time. The crowd loves it. As do I. The familiar scent of coconuts makes me wish he could wrap me in his arms. Springing away from him, our eyes lock and his are filled with a longing that makes my heart thump.
“Scion Floran did not abandon his teammates and even put himself at risk to protect Scion Talum. This is the type of courage and bravery the hostess seeks in her future partner.” Applause rings out in the auditorium and Portan continues, “This win is, therefore, well-deserved.”
Father is on the auditorium floor shaking the hands of each contestant, whispering a word or two in their ears. When he gets to Invier, his expression is severe. He shakes his hand but doesn’t speak a word to him.
“We thank you all for attending this, the second competition in Scioness Reffour’s Pursual. Do get home safely.” And with that, Portan brings the day’s event to a conclusion and I can’t wait to get somewhere private so I can talk to Bel.
I want to ask her if she noticed Father’s snub of Invier. The image keeps replaying in my mind, leaving a ball of worry in the pit of my stomach. Perhaps he’s discovered what I’m doing and has made his own plans to thwart them. Or maybe, Invier having won the first two competitions is making him nervous about the prospect of a low-ranked scion as a son-in-law.
Father shakes hands with Titane Zaina Damil, who’s talking excitedly. She must have enjoyed watching the competition. He, on the other hand, looks anything but interested in what she’s saying. In fact, he’s watching the participants leave the auditorium and I suspect his eyes are on one person in particular.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Invier
All the participants ride the elevator up to the lounge. It’s the same room in which we had our orientation the first night here. A table loaded with food await us. As the aromas fill my nose, my stomach grumbles urging me to fill a plate. Erhart dashes toward the bean pie, dishing a third of it onto his plate. That’s all I’ve seen him eat over the last two days.
While the food table is crowded, I place my wreath on one of the other tables. Unlike swift-moving Erhart, my movements are much more careful. Given what I know of phantom pains, I’m careful not to trigger any in my back. The memory of my back being pierced during the competition makes me shudder.
My thoughts are interrupted when Seth flings his wreath onto the table where it clatters, tipping from side to side until it finally rests in place.
“Felicitations.” He smiles and jovially claps me on the back. “Thanks for having my back in there.”
Highlights from the recent competition flash by on a large, wooden-framed screen to our right. Currently, it’s the image of me dragging James as his body deteriorates. I move my gaze to my golden wreath. That moment may not have been real, but the terror it created within me was anything but manufactured.
“Yeah, felicitations to you, Invier. You deserved to win.” Erhart walks over, his plate burdened with bean pie and breadfruit chips, the sight of which make my mouth water.
“Goodness, why are you sucking up to that loser, Erhart?” James asks from the food table with a sneer. “Oh, I forgot,” he says as he joins Mehrdad and Ika at their table. “You’re a loser too.”
Erhart bows his head and wanders over to the empty table to my right. Putting his plate down, he crumples into a chair and digs into his pie. What remains of the Idiot Coalition snicker among themselves as they settle into their meals.
“The two people you just called losers did better than you.” There’s a cruel edge that makes Adela’s words - simple as they may seem - charged. “In fact, Floran ranked higher than all three of you both times and today, Vesta showed himself as a powerful opponent.” She traipses to our table and lowers her plate. “You! Loser!” She calls to Erhart. “Come sit over here.”
Erhart gives her a shy look.
“Come on over, Erhart, you’re the one who figured out how to kill those things.” I turn to Seth. “What did Portan call them?”
“Skuliki,” he replies, making his way to the food table.
Mehrdad scoffs loudly as Erhart moves over to join us and my anger flares within me. I don’t understand how he can be so condescending. He’s was nothing but a selfish, coward during the competition. Yet, he thinks he can pick on Erhart, myself or anyone else?
“You’re not in a position to be rude, Mehrdad,” I say and his left eye twitches.
“You aren’t jealous, Cyra?” Adela pops a plump cherry tomato into her mouth and swallows it with merely one chew. “Are you?”
Chewing his food slowly, he scrutinizes her. She meets his gaze, fearless. Does Adela know about his violent tendencies? She must. Another thought comes to mind. Has she been goading him to attack her and violate Pursual rules?
Mehrdad brings the tense moment to an end, waving his fork at her. “It’s hard to be jealous of someone who won on a technicality.” He dismisses her, going on to put more food in his mouth.
“And you lost because you were a coward,” I say and his eyes flash in my direction.
Ika’s head pivots between the two of us. “Bet he wouldn’t fare so well in the Lesser Lands.” He puts down his glass. “They don’t give out points for being compassionate over there.”
The Lesser Lands. While I’ve never visited, mom has always described it as a perilous wilderness where highborn individuals shouldn’t frequent. I’ve always wondered why the place is called “the Lesser Lands” as if it’s one solitary geographical body. When I’d made that point to Song years ago, she’d told me to get out more and read fewer books. “‘Only you would worry about a silly thing like that.’”
Something in the atmosphere shifts. At my table, Seth fusses with the remnants of his pie. Erhart does the same as if he knows something about the Lesser Lands I don’t. Adela takes a sip of her drink, settling her gaze on the Idiot Coalition’s table.
“What a cheap shot, Ika,” she says. “Even for you. We all know the Lesser Lands can be a tough place, but to try to scare Floran? That’s pathetic, especially coming from you, a well-known momma’s boy.”
“Cheap shots?” Ika’s face twists but his indignation soon morphs into disdain when he says, “I forgot, you’re a girl. You might be scared of the Lesser Lands too.”
Adela raises one neat brow at him and says, “I am Scioness Adela of Nome Seltan, I do not scare easily. Besides, you
peed in your pants when the skuliki cornered you.”
She points at the screen where he stands surrounded by the coiled skuliki. Its spikes poised to attack. Sludge drivels down the worm’s sides to the ground, burning the grass away. A shot of Ika’s crotch is replayed, proving Adela correct.
Mehrdad laughs and James joins him, leaving Ika to scowl at them.
“I don’t know why you’re laughing, Mehrdad.”
His laughter cuts short and he bares his teeth at her.
“We all saw you run with your tail between your legs.” She takes another sip and points to the screen, saying, “wonderful, another illustration of your bravery.”
This time, Mehrdad doesn’t ignore her ridiculing. He explodes from his chair, tosses his table aside and crosses the room heading to Adela. I vault into his path and he drives right into my chest with his shoulder. The power with which he barrels into me sends me stumbling into a table, its edge bites into my lower back. Nevertheless, I manage not to collapse against his strength. Yes, I can imagine him hurting someone. Pushing with all my might, he finally tilts backward.
Like an ox, he puffs air through his nostrils bouncing from foot to foot, itching for a brawl. Punching a clenched fist into a flat palm, he yells, “Well then, you.” He points at Adela, “your friend here”—he looks me up and down—“and his lap dog”—he jerks his head at Seth—“can tag along with me to Ghitu in the Lesser Lands. I’m going tonight and we’ll see how well you do there.”
“I’ll be there,” I say without hesitation, my hands fisted at my side.
He turns on his heels and marches out of the lounge. Ika and James stand and leave as well, Ika taking his plate with him. Erhart rises from his seat and follows them.
Erhart following those bakas is the most shocking part of the day so far. “I’m confused,” I say out loud, “why did Erhart go with them?”
She holds a fork inches from her mouth. “He’s been their lackey ever since they were young. I don’t know why.” Her fork finally goes into her mouth and as she chews, a concerned look takes over her face.
“What’s wrong?”
Her puzzled expression evaporates when she says, “Oh, it’s nothing.” She stares off into the distance.
“Forget about Erhart.” Seth rubs the table’s surface as he glares at me. “I’m more concerned that you are considering going to the Lesser Lands. We aren’t to leave the estate during the Pursual. Those that do will be disqualified.”
I remember the games master’s long speech during the orientation. He did, indeed, caution us against leaving. But, would Portan, or Nabo Reffour, disqualify me if I went with the others? Given the applause I received from the crowd, I’d wager Titan Reffour wouldn’t take that gamble. Plus, as the winner of two challenges, that should earn me some latitude with the rules.
Another realization occurs to me. “They can’t disqualify any of us if we all go.”
Adela watches me with a lifted eyebrow that reveals respect. It’s good to have her look at me that way. She even gives me a brief smile—a rarity from her.
Seth looks at her then me. “No way.” He waves his hands to cement his point. “I’m not going anywhere.” He walks to the food table and fills a second plate with fruits. “My mother’s dying wish is for me to be here. I can’t jeopardize that.”
“They wouldn’t kick any of us out, think about it, Seth.” I place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “The crowd wants a competition and Titan Reffour likes the attention.”
“How do you know?” Seth sounds less determined than a few seconds ago.
How do I answer that question? I surely can’t mention that his daughter feeds me information. I don’t know what to say and look around the room for help. Adela looks at me with a knowing smile on her lips.
I head to the food table to avoid her gaze and pretend to search for another tasty morsel to add to my dish. “He loves it when the crowd cheers for him or his family.” I lie through my teeth. “Pay attention next time.”
“I don’t know.” Seth continues to be less committed to staying behind.
“It’ll be fun.” I walk back to the table, having added nothing to my plate. “If we’re going to lead the rankings, we must be willing to show we aren’t afraid in and out of the virt, don’t you think?”
Ending her silence, Adela asks, “Have either of you been to Ghitu or any other part of the Lesser Lands?”
She bites into a thick breadfruit chip and gently lowers what’s left of the wedge. “The Lesser Lands are nefarious. Pick pockets, rapists, and murderers.”
“Who’s trying to scare me, now?” I tease, but there’s false bravado in my voice. “Anyway, what could possibly go wrong? The Lesser Lands is home to society’s rejects, those who fail to apply themselves.”
She stares at her nails. “You know I didn’t need you to stand up for me with Mehrdad, right?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Since you did, I owe you one … and a half,” she says meeting my gaze, “so here’s the half part—keep your wits about you when you’re in the Lesser Lands. You can’t trust anyone.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Belema
When I enter Neith’s closet, the ceiling is a fiery image of a setting sun—a golden orb surrounded by shades of azure, cyan, amber and a trace of lavender. I give myself an internal pat on the back. I convinced her to include a skin in her closet. She didn’t think doing so would reflect the twenty-first-century vibe she was going for. Eventually, she settled on limiting the skin to the ceiling. I, for one, love it.
She doesn’t realize I came in and continues to pace, struggling to select a gown out of five floating in vivid digital bytes in front of her.
“The midnight blue one. What with Loic’s death and all.”
She walks to the suggested frock and makes a swiping gesture towards a floor to ceiling mirror on the wall. “Model,” she commands.
The mirror, no longer displaying the white and silver contours of her large closet, now show an image of my best friend standing in the dress. Neith’s twinnequin rotates in place to give a 360-degree view of the outfit.
“Show me accessory suggestions”
The closet’s programming displays five different options.
“The diamonds,” I say.
“There are three earring-necklace sets made from diamonds.” Her closet’s AI speaks with its unaffected tone and my eyes roll to the ceiling. “Please specify by saying the word ‘Option’ followed by the number that is blinking underneath the image of your choice.”
“Option four,” I tell the closet. Whispering to Neith, I say, “I hate your AI. It’s so bossy.”
She gives me the once-over and says, “Why are you in your cloak? I need you to come to Titane Yetun’s party.”
The Titane throws exhausting affairs that go on for hours. Then, there are her inappropriate jokes that everyone has to laugh at. Even though her nome is ranked fifteenth, it’s control over on-world mining and her penchant for knowing secrets make her an important ally. Or at least, an enemy nobody wants. She’s been known to publicly embarrass people by dropping sordid stories about them or their loved ones.
There’s no way I’d want to attend her function and particularly not tonight. I gulp and attempt to tuck my hair behind my ear, but it’s already in a ponytail. Instead, I pull my hood over my head.
“Well, as you can see”—I wave at my gray uniform—“duty calls and I must answer.”
Neith’s lips pucker into a pout. “Can’t someone else take your place? I’ll be bored without you.”
Sometimes, Neith can be overbearingly needy and demanding. I swallow back the harsh words waiting on my tongue.
“You can’t do this to me, Bel! I’ll only have Dad to keep me company and you know what that’s like …”
She prattles on, whining about having to schmooze with the other guests. Tapping instructions into a screen at her makeup table, she says, “It’s selfish of you to abandon m
e. You are my lady-in-waiting and are supposed to be at my beck and call.”
That loosens my tongue. “You are the only person being selfish right now. I’ve been at your beck and call for practically my whole life, putting your needs and those of my family before mine. I’m allowed to have a life of my own and it doesn’t revolve around you or anyone else!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She flips around to face me, hands on her hips. “I’ve never kept you from doing anything you ever wanted to do. But, you committed to being by my side for the Pursual.”
“Oh, please.” I flick my wrists in her direction. “This party has nothing to do with your Pursual and I will not attend it.” I steady my breath. With everything I have to do this evening, being mad because of Neith and her selfishness will be of no benefit. Not today.