Thirty-Three
Ky rushes out of the stands to greet me, and I brace myself for another knockdown hug, but this time she pulls up short and just looks at me for a while. I stare back, grinning. She’s blushing a little.
“This is working,” she says eventually. “It’s working.”
“So far, so good,” I agree. “Everyone’s seen the BLASTs now, though. Our next opponent is going to be ready for them.”
She waves this away. “Star can handle them. He’s faster than any of these runics.”
[Addendum: also smarter and more handsome.]
You know she can’t hear you, right?
[Dissatisfaction: you should do something about that.]
I’ve never thought about that, but I probably could. One of those sound-enhancing constructs, maybe—
“Taj?”
I blink. “Sorry. Star’s basking in the praise.”
“Is he?” Ky gives Star a speculative look. “Tell him that if he wins the tournament I’ll buy him… What do runics want, anyway?”
[Request: a harem full of beautiful women.]
What would you possibly do with them?
[Dissatisfaction: you should do something about that, too.]
I’m not even going to think about that one. “He says he’s excited.”
[Outrage: translate accurately, meat creature!]
“Okay.” Ky pats me on the shoulder and glances back at the stands. “Okay okay okay. I’ve got work to do.”
“Work?”
“Palms to grease, smoke to blow up assholes. Politics.” She lets out a breath. “The more you win, the more they’re willing to talk to me. Two more fights, Taj.”
Two more fights and I’ll have everything I ever wanted. A place for my family to be safe.
“Do you need my help with the smoke-blowing?”
She shakes her head. “Watch the next fight. It’s a straight bracket now; the winner will be your opponent the day after tomorrow.”
That’s news to me. I take a look at who’s waiting in front of the judge’s stand.
Closest to me are Niami and (sigh) Bitey, the big tiger sitting back on its haunches like a real cat, huge primary optics gleaming in the sunlamps.
Their opponent is a master I don’t recognize, another young woman in severe gray standing beside a crab-shaped runic laden with heavy armor.
That means my next match definitely won’t be against Quech and Vripiai.
I’m not sure how I feel about that; part of me wants to get that particular fight over with as soon as possible.
This way means there are two chances for him to lose before the finals, but much as that would make my life easier, I can’t bring myself to expect it.
Vripiai is stronger than any of the Hod runics I’ve fought so far, and that’s not counting Quech’s tendency to beat the opposing masters to death.
I wonder how Couvere would have fared if the big man had simply run over and punched him in the face. Not well, I’m guessing.
We need to figure out a plan for Quech, I send to Star. If he’s going to come after me physically, we might have to return the favor.
[Agreement: but later. Pay attention.]
Fair. There’s another fight to deal with before Quech, assuming things work out that way. Who do you think will win this one?
[Certainty: Bitey.]
Why?
[Analysis: it is more…] Star trails off with uncharacteristic hesitancy. [Alive? Real? You do not quite have the word.]
That wasn’t something I’d ever heard from him before.
I want to press him on it, but I’m distracted by an older man in a gold-trimmed suit shouting something in my ear.
It turns out he wants to congratulate me on the fight, and he’s not the only one.
A small stream of well-dressed men and women from the stands have filtered over, eager to shake hands, offer encouraging words, and—presumably—take the measure of this strange barbarian and his handmade runic.
I wish Ky was here to tell me which of these people are actually important and which I can safely ignore.
I make pleasant non-conversation with each, silently willing Hisham and Alzimyth to get on with it.
Eventually my prayers are answered and they announce the second match, Niami and Bitey versus Almira and Cnista.
Once the contestants enter the arena, I have an excuse to get away from my well-wishers and find a good vantage point.
Star crouches awkwardly beside me in the stands, much to the amusement of nearby onlookers.
Bitey is fast and deadly, that much I already knew.
It plays hit-and-run against the crab-thing, leaping in to swipe and dodging away from the other runic’s pincers.
These light attacks don’t do much more than scrape Cnista’s armor, though, and eventually Bitey has to commit, taking a scrape on one flank in exchange for a mighty thwack against the crab’s side.
Cnista folds its limbs in and lets the blow knock it violently around the arena, caroming off the wooden walls without taking much actual damage.
When its momentum is spent, it unfolds again, just as prickly as before.
These Hod runics seem to focus on defense.
[Analysis: agreed. It seems a poor strategy.]
Against an equally armored opponent, you’d end up in a battle of attrition, with the victor being the one who outlasts the other. But the excessive protection becomes a disadvantage against a more versatile enemy like Star.
Or, apparently, Bitey. The tiger adjusts its tactics under Niami’s direction, circling around the slow-moving crab to try to get ahold of it with both paws. Cnista evades, scuttling sideways, until—
[Surprise: did you see that?]
I did. I could have sworn Bitey had missed. But Cnista had scrabbled in place for a moment, long enough for Bitey to get both paws on it, and now the crab can’t seem to break away. Bitey’s jaws close on its flank, long fangs crushing armor with a horrible metallic screech and a fountain of sparks.
Someone taps me on the shoulder, but I don’t want to look away. Another well-wisher, probably. “Thanks, but I’m watching this.”
“It looks just about over to me,” says Gestian. “What do you think?”
Slowly, I turn. He’s sitting in the stands just behind me, still wearing the Dreikin uniform, a disarming smile on his aristocratic features.
“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” he says after a moment of silence. “I’m Gestian Vianor. You’re Taj, I believe?”
“Taj Fara,” I mutter. I glance around for Ky, but she’s nowhere in sight. “What do you want?”
“Oh, I thought we could have a discussion about our mutual interests. I know our relationship has been a bit contentious to date—”
“You tried to kill me.”
He holds up a finger. “Technically I didn’t try to kill you, except inasmuch as you were accompanying our dear Kycilea, and the Yesod thugs I was employing aren’t particularly discriminating.”
“And you did kill Weslai.”
“Again, that was Cavcante.” He raises an eyebrow. “Were you particularly fond of him?”
I can’t say I was fond, exactly, but—“He was helping us.”
“Because he was getting paid, I’m certain. His kind do nothing without a financial motivation.” He clears his throat. “Which brings us to you. I’m curious as to what Ky has offered you.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“She can’t be paying you up front,” Gestian goes on, as if I hadn’t spoken. “Her access to her family resources has been frozen. I suppose she’s paying in promises. Or more than promises?” He leans closer. “Is that it? Is she fucking you?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“She’s not fucking you, then!” he says, sounding delighted.
“Poor boy. She really has you on a string, doesn’t she?
It’s just like her. Even as a child she always knew how to get exactly what she wanted.
I’m guessing that she wants you to win the Ascent for her, and then she’ll make all your dreams come true, eh? ” His eyebrows waggle.
I can feel myself getting angry, and I try to keep it under control. There are eyes on us, I’m sure. “It’s nothing like that.”
“Of course it isn’t.” He shakes his head.
“You are so far out of your depth you might as well be out among the stars. Let’s say you do win, and she’s as good as her word.
How long, exactly, do you think you’ll last up here?
Do you have the first idea about how anything works?
The other Council families will start tearing Ky to pieces at once, and if you’re her man, that means you as well.
I doubt it’ll be even a year before the Trantos are dead and buried for good.
” He gives a theatrical sigh. “Hod is no place for the weak.”
“I don’t think you can call Ky weak.”
“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong.” He holds up a finger.
“I’ve known her a lot longer than you have, you know.
She looks strong, but she’s shot through with flaws.
Give her just a tap in the wrong place and she goes all to pieces.
Poor girl. She always needed a firm hand, but after her mother died her father could never bring himself to provide it.
No, she’ll never last, and when she falls you’ll go with her.
Back down to the undercity, if you’re lucky. ”
The match in the arena is over. Bitey has torn huge chunks out of Cnista, and now stands atop the motionless crab in triumph. Niami, ecstatic, clambers up the tiger’s hindquarters to take a seat on its rear end, waving to the crowd.
“You have a better idea, I take it?” I ask Gestian.
He spreads his hands. “Join the winning side. The Dreikins will guarantee your position, win or lose. We’ll match what she’s giving you. We can even encourage Quech to… take it easy on you, if you like. Another fighting runic on the payroll is always useful.”
There’s a pause.
“I’m curious,” I say slowly, “how much Devon Dreikin offered you.”
Gestian blinks. “I’m sorry?”
“Honorable man like you, it can’t be just money. Is he paying you in promises? Or more than promises?” I lean close to him. “Is that it? Is he fucking you?”
His face has gone very cold. “You,” he grates, “have no idea—”
“Don’t need the details,” I interrupt. “Doesn’t matter. I’m going to win this tournament. And then I’m going Above. It’s the Ascent, that’s what winning gets you, isn’t it?”
“Above?” Gestian gives a startled laugh. “You’re mad. Nobody goes Above.”
“Nobody comes up from the undercity to Hod, either.”
“There’s nothing up there but death. Everyone knows that.”
I give a theatrical shrug. “Then I’ll die having seen the stars. Unlike you.”
“What the fuck does that matter?” Gestian stands, fuming. “Not that you’ll ever get that far. I’ll let Quech know to take good care of you.”
“Tell him I owe him one from the first round,” I say with a lazy smile.
Gestian snorts and stalks away.
Star and I rejoin Ky at the carriage, and I can immediately see that something’s wrong.
She climbs aboard in a barely contained fury and slams the door behind her.
I get in the other side, and we ride away from the arena in silence for a while.
Star skitters behind on his six remaining legs, while Ky’s foot taps in a staccato rhythm.
“They’ve written me off,” she snaps, in response to nothing in particular.
“Sorry?”
“They’ve written me off,” she says again. Tap tap tap. “My so-called friends and allies. They think I’m past saving.”
“They don’t think we can win the tournament?”
She scoffs. “It’s not that, everyone was very impressed with you today.
And we’re all happy to take the du Freis down a peg.
But Devon Dreikin has been making the rounds and telling everybody he’s not just going to roll over and let me take my father’s place, even if you win.
And everyone I talked to is betting that he’ll come out on top in the end, so they don’t dare help me. ”
Ky stomps on her tapping foot with her other boot and grits her teeth. I fight the urge to chuckle, since I value my life.
“Gestian dropped by,” I volunteer. “Tried to get me to switch sides.”
“What?” She looks genuinely alarmed. “What did he promise you? Whatever it is, he’s a fucking liar and—”
“Relax. I turned him down flat.”
“Right.” She lets out a breath, sinking back in her seat. “Of course. It’s not that I doubted you. The Dreikins are just… very rich.” Ky swallows. “So what did he offer, out of curiosity?”
“Uh… money and a handjob from Devon Dreikin, if I’m reading between the lines correctly? We didn’t really talk specifics.”
“Fucking lowball. You should hold out for at least a blow.” Her smile is weak, shaky. “You know they probably can offer you more than I can.”
“Doesn’t matter if I’m not around to claim it. I trust you. It’s that simple. You’ve already saved my life… more times than I’ve kept track.”
A little strength returns to her expression. “Well. And likewise.”
“Besides, who would put their faith in someone who’s already betrayed one master?”
“Devon Dreikin, apparently. Gestian’s becoming his favorite little errand boy.” She grips the hilt of her sword for a moment, then lets go with a conscious effort. “Did you get anything useful from watching Niami’s match?”
“Possibly.” My hands are already itching for my sigils and wire. “The tiger has some kind of BIND sigwork in its paws to keep opponents from getting away. Star relies on not getting hit; if he gets trapped, he’s in big trouble.”
“Do you think you can counter it?”
“Maybe.” My idea is, frankly, insane. But insanity has worked for me so far. “We’ll need to test it…”