Chapter 4 #2
Gripping the stem of the glass, I squeeze too tight, snapping it in two. His eyes trail to it then lift back to meet mine as I murmur. ‘Even a splinter, or as you put it, a thorn in your side can end a life, captain.’
He blinks quickly, fear plain on his features before he can hide it, then walks away. I watch his back grimly as he greets people as he goes, before he’s swallowed by the crowd.
‘Who was that?’ Kell hisses.
I shove the broken glass on the table and turn to appraise the ballroom. ‘A man I would very much like to drown.’ Then I turn to Kell and smile. ‘But he made a good point. We need an edge, and we don’t know who the other contenders are yet. We need more information.’
‘True.’
‘How’s your footwork?’
Within minutes, we’re clumsily spinning across the ballroom dance floor, eyeing the crowd.
It works, because as soon as the song has finished, we’re both approached by other partners who want to rub shoulders with a competitor.
The young man who asks me to dance has a shock of ginger hair that sticks straight up from his forehead, and wolfish teeth.
He takes the lead, and all I have to do is try not to step on his feet as the band strikes up.
‘Are you a contender?’ I ask as we step sideways to the left, swaying to the side before continuing the same pattern to the right.
He laughs. ‘No, my territory wouldn’t send me. I’ve no special talent, cunning or brute strength. I’m an ambassador.’
‘And which is your territory?’ I ask as he spins me round, then pulls me back in.
‘Stanvard,’ he says. ‘You represent Arnhem, don’t you? And your friend too.’
‘How can you tell?’
His bark of laughter is harsh in my ear. ‘They want to show you off. Everyone taking part in the Trials. You all look like trophies.’
My eyes widen and I sweep my gaze across the near crowd, then the other dancers. He’s right. There’s one other dressed like Kell and I, a young man with a shaved head, wearing a deep green and purple tunic in the same style as ours, thick set with grey eyes and ruddy skin. ‘Trophies?’
‘There’ll be bets placed after tonight. But don’t be fooled: this isn’t just some spectacle to delight and entertain the masses,’ he says as we step gingerly in a huge circle, all round the dance floor.
‘Strategies will be formed, alliances made, trade deals struck – all based on your performance. Everyone is watching you. Seeing who they believe will fail the first Trial, who will triumph. Who the real competition will be. The continent is changing, alliances breaking and reforming. This is about power and control.’
I suppress a shudder. ‘And who’s your money on?’
He blinks at me in surprise. ‘Stanvard’s competitors, of course.
You’ll see them tonight, wearing our colours: ruby red and rich brown.
The earth, the mines of Valstra, the bloodshed to bring prosperity to Stanvard.
What we bring to the continent is immeasurable wealth, and our competitors will remind everyone of our value. ’
‘What a charming sentiment.’
He stops as the music ends and nods his head.
‘A word of advice? Steer clear of the Skylan contenders. A territory defending that many borders whose only worth is the sea route they control? That’s a dangerous territory to cross.
They produce nothing and the mine owners are tired of their levies.
Not to mention the other territories that have their eye on that route … ’
I frown. ‘Which territories?’
But he’s gone before I can ask any more and I realise I didn’t even get his name.
Pinpricks of unease spread over my skin and I feel as if I’ve had my first brush with the true reason for the Trials.
If that man is an ambassador for Stanvard, his interests lie in securing deals and favourable trading terms for the metals mined in Valstra.
And it sounds as though he does not consider Skylan an ally.
Interesting. If anything, it makes me more keen to meet the contenders from that territory.
‘What did you learn?’ Kell asks, and we slink to the edge of the ballroom. ‘Mine was a dowager from Leicena. She said her territory’s representatives will win.’
‘Hmm.’ I brush a finger back and forth across my lips as I pick out the individuals dressed like Kell and I, just in different colours.
Before realising I’m doing it, I begin scanning for Agnes again, then blink quickly to hide my disappointment and fear over her not being here tonight.
‘Mine said he’d bet on Stanvard winning, his own territory.
Stanvardian contenders are dressed in brown and red. ’
‘I see them.’ Kell points as two tall girls with long dark hair, huge eyes and brown skin, who appear to be sisters, amble up to the food, sniffing each dish. ‘Mine said to watch out for Skylan.’
‘Interesting,’ I murmur. ‘So did mine. Do you think—’
But my words are cut off by a roar that shakes the entire room.
Glasses shatter and cries of surprise echo through the ballroom as a sound like beaten air comes from outside, growing louder.
I look at Kell and we move to the nearest window, peering into the dark.
The guards cannot contain everyone as they spill out on to the terrace, and Kell and I slip in among the moving crowd. I gasp.
Above us, two huge winged shapes soar down, aiming straight for the court. My heart lodges in my throat as the majestic creatures land effortlessly on the lawns beneath the terrace, shaking the ground. The scent of ash wafts over us.
‘Drakes,’ we hear a man say. ‘Firedrakes from the Spines.’
I swallow, watching as a girl jumps down from the back of one, the drake’s midnight scales glinting.
She’s wearing fur, hair braided like mine but white-blonde like Pearl’s, the girl I first met aboard Phantom, a member of Merryam’s crew and her partner.
For a moment, I picture Pearl, my friend, and it jolts me.
But this girl is taller, her hair almost fading into the icy pallor of her skin, and she carries an axe across her back.
The boy who jumps down from the other, a dark-green-scaled drake is dressed similarly, with the same coloured hair, which is shaved on both sides, strands running up over his skull and tied at the back.
When they both step forward, it’s clear they’re even wearing scales under the fur, like armour.
They’re at least a foot taller than Kell and I, armed to the teeth with knives slung across their chests and, as they gaze around, the girl bares her teeth.
Several of the guests stumble back, a wave of gossip gushing over us.
‘… won the last Trials.’
‘Lost her brother recently …’
‘Fire breathers, have to be. What a power play.’
I’m suddenly aware of a girl standing by my side, eyeing the competitors and their drakes with apparent delight. Then she looks over at me and raises one eyebrow. ‘Do you think they actually rode drakeback all the way from the Spines,’ she says, ‘or is it so we all quake in our little boots?’
‘You think they mean to intimidate us?’ I ask her, intrigued.
She shrugs, throwing a berry up high in the air before catching it in her mouth.
She’s unremarkable in every way, snub-nosed with a dusting of freckles, brown hair that’s too plain to be considered pretty and eyes that are neither brown nor green but somewhere in the middle.
It’s the crooked twist in her lips, the dart of her gaze, that has me marking her as more than she first appears.
Or wishes to appear.
‘I think this is turning out to be far more diverting than Heath let on, quite honestly. The contenders from the Spines have revealed their hand a tad early, though, in my opinion.’ She turns to look at me squarely, thrusting out her hand. ‘Sember Lockswift.’
I smile despite myself, holding out my own to shake hers. ‘Mira Boscawen.’
‘Excellent. Now, don’t take offence, but I believe we are rivals. And Heath gets very gloomy if he doesn’t come in first. Not even second will do. It’s the royal in him. He can’t help it.’
‘Skylan,’ Kell hisses in my ear, eyeing her warily.
Sember shrugs one shoulder and it’s only then I realise what she’s wearing.
A deep, leaf-green gown, the colour symbolising the green mountains and forests of the central territory.
The one bordered on all sides but one. ‘Afraid so. I promise not every rumour about us is true, though. Only the very worst ones. The rest you can ignore. We spread them ourselves.’
She’s off before I can reply, whisking so deftly through the crowd that she’s gone between blinks. And yet, before she disappears, she looks back over her shoulder at us both, and it almost seems like an invitation to follow.
Kell sighs. ‘Well, at least we know who is representing Skylan. Prince Heath himself, the second son, not the heir to the Skylan throne. Not at all intimidating.’
‘The spare. Interesting,’ I murmur, turning my gaze back to the drakes and the contenders from the Spines, a plan unfurling in my mind.
These Trials are about more than the events themselves.
And, if I am to free Agnes and myself, we need more information from the most unlikely sources.
We also need allies in this court. Fleetingly, I imagine having Eli by my side.
His purposeful swagger would cut through this sea of people and I wish, keenly, that he was here with me.
He would know how to navigate these waters; he would know who to trust and who to avoid.
But he’s not, and if I ever want to see him again …
I swallow. I will need to play a dangerous game indeed.
‘For now, Kell, I think we keep what we are both able to do a secret. Let’s learn all we can before revealing anything.
Unless we make allies, it may be the only advantage we have. ’
The ground rumbles ominously. The drake on the right, the green-scaled beauty, is eyeing the crowd in agitation, a growl reverberating deep in its throat, sending shockwaves down into the ground.
The guards surge forward, a guest nearby gasping as she’s shoved aside, her wine glass shattering on the terrace.
The other drake scrapes at the lawn, baring fangs, and that’s when I notice what the Skylan contender is doing.
Sember Lockswift is baiting the drakes.