Chapter 28 #2
Thank all the gods you are such a vicious little weasel, Tarian said affectionately. I have said it before—the fates chose perfectly. That was masterful. I have never seen anything like it. You pulled it off seamlessly.
Silence descended as the reality of what had happened worked through the nobles. Slowly, voices started to murmur. Then a slow clap issued from the dais. The king’s blood-red eyes were alight with humor. He grinned as he spoke.
“As I said, humans are so much fun to play with. You never know how it will go. Take her away.”
Daisy hastily put away her weapons before the guards hoisted her up and set her to walking. She chanced a glance back at Tarian. He sat with a drink and a bemused expression.
Well done, Faelynn said when she rejoined Daisy and the manacles were being refastened. She crouched in front, putting her hands on Daisy’s head. Except for a few very fluid knife strikes and draws, to a casual observer, it looked like dumb luck.
Good. That was the goal.
She nodded, lifting Daisy’s chin to examine her eyes and pulling up her hand to check it over. As soon as the rest of the champions have gone, you’ll get to rest.
Here?
No. You’ll be taken somewhere more comfortable. That is where you can meet the others and gain as much information as you can.
But there was no information to be had. Not for her, at any rate.
The holding area was a large room with rows of cots, one for each champion that had entered the games.
Half would be empty, apparently more than any other game in the history of the court.
Or so one of the guards said absently, complaining that they’d had to make them all up when they wouldn’t all be used.
The toilets were a line of tubs along the far wall, and the wash station was an enclosed, outdoor area with a few washbasins and a bunch of dirt.
Male, female, it didn’t matter. Everyone for themselves.
She tried not to show her embarrassment as she used one of the tubs, or her wary revulsion as one of the males watched with interest. In the wash area, she made sure to face the others, male and female alike.
She didn’t want to catch a surprise knife or dick in the body.
Thankfully, no one ventured near. No one so much as touched her.
Where a stray hand might find another of the champions, everyone actively stayed away from her.
They knew what Tarian would be forced to do if they got intimate, and they weren’t taking any chances.
She’d never been so damn glad for a claim in all her life.
Thank the gods she hadn’t been able to control herself, or that they’d had to prove themselves in the court.
The others weren’t allowed to force each other or fight, but there were no rules where it came to humans. The king had made that perfectly clear.
Food materialized at a table against the wall by the door.
Haunches of meat, cheese, bread, and fruits.
The pitchers were filled with water, and while some of the champions groused that there was no wine, she was thankful she wouldn’t be confronted with going thirsty or trying the equivalent of Faerie alcohol.
Faelynn had said Daisy could trust these meals—they wanted all deaths to be in front of an audience—so she was free to quench her thirst and sate her hunger.
After she’d eaten and drunk only enough to keep her going and not enough that she’d have to use the tub very much, she sat on her cot with her magical knife in her lap.
I’ll need clothes for tomorrow. All they offered was a drape, she thought, hoping Tarian was paying attention.
I am, was his reply, and she could hear the fatigue in his mental voice. The healers are allowed to supply their champions with whatever they need tomorrow, including the weapons Faelynn stored for safekeeping tonight.
Every champion only had one weapon left to them in here, just in case. She’d obviously chosen the magical knife.
What have you been doing? she asked, missing him. Feeling homesick for him in a way that she’d only ever felt for her family.
It felt like lips pressed against hers, his phantom, magical touch. Fulfilling my promises.
Images of a hallway, a door, and a room beyond filled her mind. Of a beautiful man screaming. Of revenge. The princess had mishandled his toy, and he was now breaking all of hers…and breaking them in specular fashion. His vicious brutality would make even Zorn blink rapidly.
Shivers washed over her body.
I never claimed to be a nice boy, remember? Tarian told her. I am a nightmare forged in fire. I am not dark by nature. I am dark by necessity. I wield their shadows like a weapon.
She knew that. She loved that about him. Still, his refined brutality made her belly dance, a confusing blend of nervousness and excitement.
Get some sleep, little dove, he murmured. Tomorrow, your opponent will likely be harder. Stay alive. It won’t be long now.
She wanted to ask for more details. To ask if he’d gotten enough information to find their way out.
He was the one working out the end game in the shadows.
She was the distraction, the reason Tarian couldn’t miss visiting the court and now something for the king to focus on, but she wished she was more of a participant.
She didn’t ask, though. She trusted him. They’d made a pact to work together, and so far, he’d followed her lead blindly. If he wasn’t giving her more information, there had to be a reason.
She just hoped they were close. She didn’t think she had much time before the shit hit the fan.