by R. K. Thorne
Lara hid in a far corner of the stadium and prayed to both goddesses that she was reading Nyalin right from this distance—and that her father wouldn’t spot her. Andius was sitting beside him, and if Da saw her, Andius would follow his gaze. And who knew what the snake might do if he realized she’d arrived?
Especially since the clanblade was tucked in her bag at her hip. If he demanded she be searched, it would all be over.
She’d wrapped a scarf over her hair and mouth, and thank the Twins it was cold enough to wear a cloak. With the hood up. If anything, she probably looked too covered and a little suspicious this way, but people weren’t going to easily recognize her.
The shadow bubble Nyalin blew off his palm was as dark as the night. It drifted lazily, floating down to a satisfying pop in the appropriate bowl. Shadow sphere—they had mastered it well. Another two points.
He also managed to demonstrate the base Water Float and Bloom spells, solid single points. The lock he made for the sphere of control magic was a thing of sheer beauty.
The boy had so much talent it made her ache.
She pondered what he’d said about the emperor as they worked, but feeding him energy was natural. Easy, even. So Pavan had admitted there was a lock and that he’d known about it all along. Did that mean he’d known her and Da’s efforts to help Nyalin would fail? Had the emperor intentionally wasted their time? Or had he hoped they would break it?
Or had she conveniently given him the illusion of attempting to help Nyalin without ever actually doing so? Maybe a man who controlled an empire didn’t need young upstart rebels with fine pedigrees like Nyalin challenging him. That hardly seemed like Pavan, but it was hard to know what to think anymore.
Nyalin cast a second-level ward from the sphere of caution, and she beamed like a proud parent behind her scarf. They’d practiced that one long and hard. Thank goodness it’d paid off.
He nailed a first-level healing spell too, stitching shut a mock wound that awaited just such a treatment to quite a bit of applause. She had to glance at Da at that one, but his face was turned so she couldn’t see his reaction. Or Andius’s.
In the end, every sphere had been addressed, each bowl touched by some bit of Nyalin’s—and hers and Yeska’s—magic. The place pretty much reeked of blackberries.
She sighed in relief. No penalties. That was huge. They’d done all they could.
The crowd’s applause was much more vigorous than it had been for the last few contestants, and it swelled when Cerivil stood. He held out his arms wide, embracing them, and gradually they quieted.
“The first round of our Contest is complete. And what a magnificent showing we’ve seen. First and foremost, a swordmage warrior of our clan should have a mastery of magic. That mastery should be both broad—and deep. And this is why we begin with these basic demonstrations.
“But there is more to a clan leader than the mechanical casting of spells. Is there not?” An agreeing murmur answered him. “A clan leader must be brave. Bold. Able to defend his clan, his family, himself. Able to smite enemies of the clan should the need arise.” He pounded one fist into an open palm, and the crowd roared its approval. He waited till it settled. “We will test that ability to fight—both with the aid of magic and without it. But first, the scores.”
The crowd stamped and shouted to spit it out already.
Cerivil cleared his throat. “In the lead, with twenty-eight points of skill demonstrated, is honored clansman Andius naLevin moShra.”
A bit of a cheer went up. Andius stood beside Cerivil and waved, spinning to gaze adoringly at his crowd. Her heart flipped when he almost looked right at her. She ducked closer to the stairwell that led out of the stadium and into the street.
“In second place is Faytou naLevin moShra with twenty-six points.”
Faytou waved at the crowd from the jumble of young men that stood in the stadium’s entryway arch. That was where most contenders who weren’t as arrogant as Andius remained. She scanned the group, searching for Nyalin.
“And in third, we have Miros naZalay moNiiseu, with twenty-three points.”
Lara caught her breath. If her accounting was right, Nyalin had twenty-two. He was just behind the leaders. If only she could spot him, see if his expression told her the same thing.
“A great showing for the clan. We shall now begin the second phase of our great clan’s tournament. And after that, the feast will begin in the main hall.” Cerivil paused as the crowd’s excited murmurs swelled and subsided. “The second phase is of course the obstacle course. We have a last minute change, however.” The murmurs swelled again as many frowned, especially as Cerivil’s face grew especially grim. “One of our contenders has provided some proof of last-minute attempts to cheat at the course. So we have changed the venue to keep the contest fair and the playing field level.”
Lara swallowed. Damn. Separation was something they’d considered, practiced for, but it was basically their worst-case scenario. Well, that and being found out. Damn all that time wasted learning the original course—it had been built and waiting in the stadiums next door. Everyone had had the chance to practice that one. Whatever the new one would be… Could it actually be the opposite? Maybe Andius had bribed them to change it to a course only he had gotten to practice?
“Observers may wait at the beginning of the course in the Garden of Dala’s Fountain, or near the end of the course at Yakanuk’s on the square. Now, contestants please follow me. To the catacombs.”
Her eyes picked just that moment to find Nyalin’s in the swarm of contestants, and their gazes locked. His expression was somber, and she bit her lip, although he certainly couldn’t see it. He nodded slightly.
She nodded back. But a split second later, a chill went through her, a sense of being watched not just by Nyalin.
Andius. Andius had spotted her. And was climbing the stairs.
She ran for the street like her life depended on it. It probably did.
He tried not to worry at the way Lara had fled like a hunted doe. She was probably just getting a head start to the course, hoping to meet him there.
But his gut said something else was wrong.
There was nothing he could do to figure that out, though. All the contestants were funneled en masse out of the stadium. They were on the opposite side of where Lara would have reached the street. Officials marched them down the street, left, then another quick right, and he lost hope. There was no way she could have followed fast enough to know where they were.
I know where you are, said Yeska.
That’s comforting.
I can tell her, but she’s a bit busy at the moment.
Is she okay?
Yes. Just fine, worry not. I can give you magic too, you know. But if I come too close, they might see me.
Is that bad?
I am never sure.
They reached the mouth of the catacombs and stopped.
“You will enter in three groups.” The eagle-eyed woman was back, officiating this time. “Listen for your name to be called for your group. The time delay will be subtracted from your final time.” Behind her a table was covered with an impressive array of hourglasses and a myriad of labels.
As the names were read off, someone angled out of the crowd in front of him and grinned.
“Faytou!” Nyalin exclaimed. “Great score you had in the first round.”
“Thanks, you didn’t do so bad yourself. Blew everybody away.”
Nyalin shook his head. “Not as good as you. I’m just doing what I can.”
“One sec.” Faytou held up a finger and paused as his name was called. Nyalin’s hadn’t been yet; they finished the first group and headed into group two. “Too bad we won’t be in the same heat, huh? We could have worked together or something.” His eyes twinkled. He said it lightly, but he definitely meant it.
Nyalin shrugged. “We may still see each other on the inside. Think you have a shot of winning this thing?”
Some of Fayt
ou’s mirth faded. “I might have a chance at this course, but not in the third round. I’m half his size, and I always preferred books to blades. That’s where Andius can beat me, no matter what he does in these other rounds.”
“You never know. You might surprise yourself.” He would much rather Faytou end up with Lara than Andius. He’d hate it, certainly, but it’d be easier if Lara wouldn’t suffer. If Faytou was kind. If they were happy… Hmm, maybe he was kidding himself.
He’d had no idea Faytou was so powerful, although his friend was always excelling in the morning classes. He really shouldn’t have been surprised.
They waited together, listening to the names. Nyalin was in the third group. Lara had to be far away now. He shook his head. This wouldn’t be good. If it were sheer physical prowess to get them through the catacombs, Nyalin might have a chance, but Cerivil and his books had said this test was specifically about using magic.
He cleared his throat, searching for something to talk about to keep his mind off his rattled nerves. “Nervous about the new course?”
Faytou smirked a little. “Nah, not too worried.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Why are you laughing like that?”
Faytou grinned and leaned in closer to whisper. “Because my brother bribed the workers building the original course. Had secret passages built in just for him.”
His eyes widened. “You asked for the course change?”
Faytou’s eyes crinkled as he grinned. “I asked for a fair race.”
They quieted to listen to an older man explain the proper path through the catacombs to the exit. “Only those who remember this well will get through quickly enough. Also beware. We have set traps to test what you’re made of in every sphere. Flames must be doused, earth shifted, darkness lit. And others. Good luck. Those in the first group, come to the front and prepare.”
More than half the young men surged forward, which of course didn’t make any sense. Were they cheating or just stupid? Some ended up hanging back though at the last second, and the first group clustered up as they disappeared at a run down the stairs into the darkness, all battling for a position in the narrow tunnel.
When his group came, Nyalin didn’t bother. In the second group, one man had gone down in the surging crowd and taken quite a few hard hits before anyone let him stand again. The last thing he wanted was a head injury right now. So he hung back.
And besides. He couldn’t make it if he needed magic that only Lara had to get past obstacles. Could the dragon really give him any? The sword hanging on his hip felt useless and quiet.
Unless—
Could he teleport?
At his first chance, he tucked himself into a corner, gathered as much energy as he could—with Yeska’s support—and pulled himself into the afterlife. This time he slipped in like a calm bath in an easy, cool pond.
This part of their mirror world was the same, although doused in shades of green. The structure of the catacombs was there in its entirety. Fascinating. Was it because they were homes for the dead? Nyalin raced backward, out of the tunnels, up the stairs. When he reached the flat grassland that seemed to cover most of this afterworld, he raced along, the grass whipping at his legs all too real. Let the other entrance to the catacombs be there too—
It was. He had to nudge aside some overgrown grass and pry open a heavy wooden doorway, but it was there all right. And on the steps sat Lara’s brother.
“Where have you been?” Nyalin said slowly, praying to both goddesses his real body wasn’t somewhere saying just this same thing in front of a Contest official.
Myandrin grinned. “I could say the same of you.”
“Hanging out with your sister.”
His face softened. “Tell her I said hello, will you?”
“As soon as I can find a way to bring all this up.”
The spirit grinned. “The demon is here, you know.”
Nyalin glanced sharply to his right.
“Not here, in this world. In yours. He’s with a necromancer that’s bound him. They’ve been watching you compete.”
“Well. That’s great news.”
“Watch out in the third phase. They’re helping Andius.”
“Of course they are.”
Myandrin smiled. “You really like her, don’t you?”
Nyalin frowned. “Uh… why would you say that?”
“Aren’t you competing to marry her as we speak?”
How many had missed that obvious implication? “You’re insightful, for a ghost.”
“Treat her right. Or I’ll haunt you.” Myandrin winked.
“Can you do that?”
“Aren’t I already? I’m sure I can figure something out while you’re in my world at least.”
“You’re not going to need to.”
“That’s what I want to hear. Now—you better get going. Turn in a record time.”
“Yeah, for a cheater.”
“This is magic too. Seems legitimate to me.”
Nyalin shrugged, starting down the steps past Myandrin. Then he turned back. “Wait—any tips for me? Weaknesses Andius has? I won’t have magic to help me in the third round.”
“Well, he will, so you might want to keep up that cheating streak. Because he is. I don’t know what the demon’s planning, but they want him to win. But yeah—I fought him for eight years, I know a thing or two.” He paused, thinking. “He has only one rhythm. He changes up the exact moves, but he always favors that certain timing. Learn it, and you can predict his attacks. Predictable. And a little overconfident too.”
Nyalin’s lips thinned. “Imagine that.”
“I know. Luck to you.” Myandrin waved.
He bowed. “Luck to you as well.” And for the first time, the greeting of the Bone Clan felt natural, at home on his lips.
He descended into the darkness. Three flights down, he crept back into the tombs and found an isolated spot.
He jumped back into the real world, icy reality splashing over him like the great river waterfalls. His breath caught as he realized that just in front of him were the backs of a woman’s knees. A woman dressed in the azure swinging robes of the emperor.
Struggling to keep his breath calm, he scanned the space. Did he have enough energy for a Throw Sound? What if it sent him crossing back over, for who knew how long? If he could just distract her…
A cracked piece of wall plaster lay on the floor by his foot. Of course—there was always the mundane way. He picked up a shard and tossed it as far as he could past her feet and into the far doorway. He held his breath.
She tilted her head but didn’t move.
He groped around, found a smaller one, threw.
Finally, she shuffled over, and while she stood in the doorway, he lunged back into the last tunnel, hoping to both goddesses he wouldn’t get caught.
Pressing himself against the quiet stone, he listened and calmed his panting breath. There were no other competitors nearby. The woman shuffled back to her original spot.
Here went nothing.
He turned and jogged forward, as if coming out of the course.
“Excellent! Our first contender!” She grinned. A dozen other officials and members of the Bone Clan rushed in at her call.
Whispers flew.
“So fast.”
“Powerful magic indeed—”
“Truly gifted.”
“Nyalin moLinali takes first place!” It was the eagle-eyed woman, and to his surprise, she was smiling. “The first contender receives fifty points and a seat at the head of the table for the feast. But don’t drink too much. You’ve got to be ready for the final phase tomorrow. Total score for Nyalin moLinali: seventy-two points. This will be very close!”
Whispers followed him as he escaped the mouth of the catacombs. Andius had to be there, down in the catacombs, still going, if Nyalin had come in first.
That meant he had better get out of here—and fast
—unless he wanted to face Andius.
Yeska’s voice growled in his mind. Lara says to meet her at the horse statue. She knows where you can hide.
He knew the one, and he set off for it at a jog. The crowd loved his enthusiasm and cheered even louder as he raced away.
Hide. Right. Neither of them would be safe in their own rooms, especially with Andius looking for the dagger. And her. And probably him too. They were supposed to be still buried in that root cellar.
As he loped along, the streets were quiet, and his body hummed with well-spent effort. The evening wind ruffled his hair, and he let himself savor that for right now—just for now—he was in the lead.
Chapter 16
Feast
Lara opened the door at the quiet knock. She’d practically chewed her lip raw with worry. When Nyalin’s frame filled the doorway, she threw her arms around him.
Subtle, girl. Really subtle. He doesn’t want to kiss you, remember? Allies at war—and that’s all.
But he didn’t push her away this time, and in fact, he squeezed her closer even as he angled her to the side and pushed the door shut behind them. He smelled of sweat and blackberries—as always—and dust.
“You made it,” she murmured against his shoulder. “You survived. I was so worried. Who knew what Andius would do if he found you down there in the catacombs? In that free-for-all. It’s chaos.”
He frowned. “Well, there’s always tomorrow.”
She leaned back to scrutinize his face. “You got by him? The traps? The tests?”
His smile was laughing. “You could say that.”
“What is it?”
“Remember how we got out of that cell in the root cellar?”
“Yes.”
“Tried that again. Bit farther this time.”
“Really?” She burst out laughing. “Brilliant!” A throat cleared behind her, and her face flushed. “Oh—sorry. Nyalin, this is Pyaris. One of my dearest childhood friends. This is her home.”
Nyalin bowed almost more quickly than Pyaris did, and she felt a little flicker of gratitude for that.
“It’s a pleasure to actually meet you this time.” Pyaris’s grin was white and brilliant against ebony skin.