I curl my hands into fists at my sides to stop their visible shaking. “We’ll need one more person. The Agon Games only takes teams of six.”
“Piers,” Carver says. “You haven’t seen it, but he can fight.”
My instincts rebel. I don’t want my life in Piers’s hands. He may be a decent warrior, despite his scholarly tendencies, but he may also be tempted to throw me under a Cyclops or straight into a Harpy’s nest. I don’t think he’d do it, but any hesitation in the arena could cost us too much.
I shake my head. “He’s not due back for two weeks. The Games start in one. We should have already left to register and scope out the competition. We don’t have any time to lose.”
“There’s an advantage to arriving at the last minute,” Griffin says, astounding me that he’s truly considering this. “The other teams can’t get a feel for us, either. I’ll send my fastest rider for Piers. He’ll meet us there.”
Disquiet churns in my gut. Justified or not, I don’t want Piers on the sand with us.
“I’ll go.”
I turn to Aetos and find him watching me closely. Huge. Skilled. Fire. Flight. He survived the Ice Plains. He vanquished a Mare of Thrace. For most teams, he’d be an enormous asset.
Desma stares at him in shock, her face going so ashen even her lips turn white. There’s something beyond fear in her eyes, beyond panic. It’s utter desperation.
But even without her pale face and petrified eyes making a knot tighten below my breasts, I’d turn Aetos down. Our best survival strategy isn’t to gain a hulking Magoi; it’s to be wholly underestimated.
“You know how the Games work,” I say mainly to Aetos. “The spectators get rowdy when it’s over too fast. The weaker we seem, the better chance we have of facing a weaker team in the first round. The Gameskeepers need to make sure the fights are interesting, and that they last, even if it means pitting favorites against each other in the early rounds. Without you, we’re Hoi Polloi and one Magoi woman with no combat magic. With you, we’d be in a different category altogether.”
“After the first round, they’d take your measure anyway,” Aetos argues. “We all know they shuffle the grid. That’s why it’s never announced.”
“Maybe. But that’s one less round that’s a real danger to us. If we go into this anonymous and underestimated, I can practically guarantee we’ll walk through the first round. That means less injury and fatigue going into the second fight, and even the third.” There’s rarely a fourth. There aren’t that many people willing to risk everything for glory and gold.
Aetos stands, his anvil-like fists clenching at his sides. “Do you really expect me not to fight with you? Not to protect you?”
“I expect you to listen to me,” I answer.
“And I expect you to make wise decisions not based on sentiment,” Aetos growls back.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to scoff and say, “When have I ever been wise?” but I can’t do that anymore. I can never do that again.
“Cat’s reasoning is sound,” Griffin says. “The weaker we appear on paper, the easier our first round will be.”
“The weaker you appear on paper, the weaker you are,” Aetos snaps. “What’s the point of surviving the first round if you have no hope in the second?”
“Because it’s a ruse,” I say. “We are strong.”
“And you’d be stronger with me!” Aetos snarls.
Desma squeezes her eyes shut. “I’m pregnant.”
“What?” I cry.
“What?” Aetos roars.
She stares at her feet, not saying another word.
Aetos wraps his arms around her, lifts her up, and then holds her at his eye level until Desma finally looks at him again. When their eyes meet, he grins. It’s the biggest, widest, happiest smile I’ve ever seen on his blue face. “I love you.” He kisses her soundly.
Desma smiles back, rainbow tears glittering in her eyes. “I love you, too.”
Aetos lets her feet touch the ground again, and Desma leans in to him, the top of her head just reaching the bottom of his chest. He strokes her hair, his great, strong hands gentle on her. “But I’m still going.”
Desma’s face crashes like an avalanche, turning just as white.
“No, you’re not.” I cross my arms. I hate responsibility. Leadership is the pits. Disappointing the people you love is inevitable, and who knew it would start so soon?
Aetos faces off with me, keeping hold of Desma’s hand and swallowing it in his enormous grip. “You’re smart, Cat, but you never think. Turning down my offer is shortsighted. Stupid even.”
I lift my brows. “Please, tell me how you really feel.”
“I don’t want to die in some blood-soaked arena. But even if I do, it’s not just about you, or me, or any of us anymore.”
I stare at him. People keep saying that. It’s like a Giant beating me over the head with a club. All. The. Time. “Since when do you care about the greater good?” Aetos cares deeply for about a dozen people. As far as I know, his emotional ties end there.
His shoulders turn rock-hard, like a bull getting ready to charge. “Since I realized there might be a greater good. Last night, the man who took over Sinta put a crown on your head. Today, you told us who you are. I know where this is going. I’ll help you get there.”
Aetos’s glacial-blue eyes bore into mine. Queen of Thalyria they seem to say. His trust and belief in me are staggering. I haven’t even stepped up. Not really. I don’t deserve that gift. I can’t imagine how I’ll live up to it.
I hold his gaze, my own eyes hardening. “I want another woman on the team. Hoi Polloi. We’ll walk through our first combat that way.”
Aetos makes a derisive sound. “And after?”
Griffin moves closer to my side. “That’s when we’ll show them what we’re really made of, and what Cat’s magic can do.”
I look at him, my nerves in a tangle. It’s not just my own life on the line here. “I thought you didn’t want me anywhere near the arena.”
Lines bracket Griffin’s mouth. His eyes fill with shadows. “I don’t. I don’t want any of us there. But it’s a good plan. If you think we can do this, then I believe you.”
Panic licks through me. I don’t want to be the one making these decisions now. Part of me was actually hoping Griffin would talk me out of it, or even manhandle me into giving up the idea. Part of me still is.
“Then you agree with me on this?” I ask, not even sure I agree with myself.
Griffin doesn’t answer right away. He looks torn. Then, “Objectively, it’s a smart move.”
I glance at Nerissa and Anatole and wish I hadn’t. I’m about to drag two of their children into a bloodbath, and they know it. Piers’s accusations come flooding back. Jocasta looks like she’s seen a ghost. Kaia’s eyes are huge. Egeria seems like she might vomit.
I can’t blame her. I feel that way myself.
Swallowing hard, I turn back to Griffin, trying to banish my doubts along with the acidic sting in my throat. “And ruling well is about doing what’s best for the most people?” I ask.
His nostrils flare. He nods once, looking rather enraged by his own principles.
“Then we’ll go,” I say more confidently than I feel.
“On one condition,” Griffin says, his eyes landing on Selena. “We take the best healer there is with us.”
Selena inclines her head. With the slight angling of her delicate chin, she agrees to come.
“I’m going, too,” Jocasta says briskly, standing. “I’m very good with herbs and dressing wounds.”
“No way,” Carver growls. “Not a chance in the Underworld.”
Jocasta glares at him. Her eyes spark a brilliant blue. “It’s not your decision.”
“Fine!” Carver pivots in his chair to face his parents. “Father?”
“Griffin…” Carver all but snarls, turning to his older brother.
“She can come,” Griffin says.
“What?” I’m not sure who shouts louder—Flynn, Kato, or Carver.
Jocasta’s triumphant smile lights her entire face, returning some of the color to it. “Thank you, Griffin, although it’s no longer your decision, either.” Her final words and her eyes land on me.
Good Gods, is she saying it’s mine?
“She needs a guard,” Flynn grates.
“I second that!” I say far too loudly.
“Cassandra,” Kato suggests. “I saw her today, so Piers didn’t take her with him.”
I’ve met Cassandra. Quick, tall, strong, pretty in an unassuming way. She’s Piers’s number two.
“Cassandra should be your sixth teammate,” Jocasta says. “She’s fast and smart. An expert with a blade and a bow.”
A curt nod from Griffin, who knows Cassandra better than I do. “A good idea. If she accepts.”
“Then who will guard Jo when we’re not there?” Flynn asks. He’s turning red. It’s hard to tell where his face ends and his hair begins.
Selena’s voice is like a splash of cool water in the rapidly heating room. “I will.”
Flynn’s head whips around. “No offense, but I don’t know you.”
Selena’s eyes brighten to a striking, luminous blue. The power that suddenly roars around her makes my hair stand up at the roots and vibrate. A shiver ripples down my body, coursing from my head to my toes.
“Do not question me.” Her words aren’t liquid calm anymore. They rumble like a mammoth waterfall.
Flynn stands, blindly undeterred. Or recklessly determined. Wide and muscled, he seems to take up half the room. I’m not sure he’ll back down, and I don’t know whether to block him or to stand in front of Selena. Not that I could even begin to hold back Selena. It would be like trying to cage a hurricane in the palm of my hand. The magic in her eyes is immeasurable, and not a soul in the room moves.
Jocasta finally puts a neat end to the thickening tension by walking straight through it. Flynn follows her with his eyes, his mouth a grim line.
At the door, Jocasta throws the entire room a defiant look, sapphire fire in her eyes. “I have tonics to prepare. When do we leave?”
“Dawn,” Griffin replies stiffly.
Jocasta nods and then sweeps from the room, the hem of her dress snapping around the doorframe.
Flynn stares after her. His jaw could cut marble. Everyone looks uncomfortable. I know I am. Then Aetos starts arguing with me again, which makes Desma miserable.
I grit my teeth, the start of a headache coming on. I want to grab Griffin’s hand and make a break for it. I’ll jump through the window if I have to. Except I can’t. Gah!
Deep breath in. Long breath out. The Gods are telling me I’m some sort of new Origin, which apparently means it’s my job to give Thalyria a fresh start. Griffin crowned me with the symbols of the three realms, joining them together on one circle that perfectly fit my head. If I’m supposed to be not just a queen but the Queen, I’d better start acting like it.
My voice rings out, surprisingly firm. “Flynn, sit down. Aetos, I said no. Kato, Carver—find Cassandra and bring her here. We might have some convincing to do.”
Flynn sits. Aetos clamps his mouth shut. Kato and Carver get up and go. Huh.
The pride in Griffin’s unwavering gray gaze makes me feel a little dizzy and alarmingly warm inside. I shift restlessly until Vasili catches my eye. His thick mustache lifts with the hint of a paternal smile, and I remember how all those years ago, he found me starving and drifting through the dusty southern grasslands. He took me to Selena, half carrying me in his arms.
He lifts the blunt end of a knife to his forehead now in a silent salute, but his eyes are troubled, like he fears he might be drinking in his last sight of me.
CHAPTER 28
Cassandra is exactly what I hoped for—good at following orders. I need practice giving them, so that works out well for everyone. She’s also exceptional at reconnaissance. All lean muscle and agility, she moves like a shadow and blends into walls. When she asks questions, people answer. Not because she threatens, but because of a rather disarming smile that includes a healthy set of teeth and a dimple in her right cheek. Piers found her in Mylos three years ago guarding the main temple housing the knowledge scrolls. I don’t know how she ended up being his right hand, but he was smart to hold on to her. Piers may be a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.
“Three teams are camped outside the city.” Cassandra draws a map in the dirt and marks the spots to the north and northeast. “They’re each missing a team member, which makes me think they’re hiding creatures in the woods.”
My stomach performs a nervous flip. “Any idea what?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “They could have magic, or just brute force.”
“Don’t forget venom,” Kato adds dryly.
Cassandra nods. “There are eight teams in all. The remaining five, including us, are all housed in the arena. We’re in the middle of the living quarters, with two teams on our left, and two on our right.”
As soon as a team registers for the Agon Games, they’re offered a “suite” in the bowels of the arena, which consists of two rooms with cots, a fully stocked apothecary area, a small privy, and a private bath. The only light comes from torches and oil lamps. The floors are dirt, the ceilings high. Monster-accommodating high. On the eve of the Games, every combatant has to be in the underground rooms, Giants and all. Most participants never leave the arena again.
“Physically, we’re on par. Maybe even better.” Cassandra’s eyes stray to Kato. Of course. She’s female. “But there’s no telling what’s beneath the surface. The teams are heavily Fisan, which probably means more Magoi than Hoi Polloi. I’ve only seen one other woman in the hallways around the suites, but others could be staying in their rooms. I also learned from a talkative Gameskeeper that we’re the only Sintan team—with the exception of the Origin.”
I force myself not to grimace. When Cassandra agreed to risk her life, it was only fair to tell her why. She immediately started calling me the Origin and Griffin the Alpha. And not Alpha Sinta, just Alpha, which is a statement in itself.
“You did well.” Griffin nods his approval, his mien somber. “Anything else?”
Cassandra shakes her head, making her shoulder-length hair bounce. It’s shorter, but curly and brown like mine. “They’re lying as low as we are. No one wants to show their hand.”
Lying low is an understatement. Only Cassandra has left the suite since we got here. The next time I show my face, it’ll be covered in cosmetics, just like it was when we arrived. People come from all over to see the Games, many of them Magoi or Magoi nobles. I can’t risk anyone recognizing me until we’re inside Castle Tarva with a knife to Galen Tarva’s throat. And preferably to Acantha’s, too.
Flynn squats and uses his finger to draw a tournament bracket in the dirt. “Eight teams. That means three rounds, one less than in the last Games.”
I nod. “And sometimes teams kill each other off completely. We might get a pass into the final round.” I sound disturbingly eager about the possibility of twelve people slaughtering each other.
Well, better than slaughtering us.
“Unlikely,” Kato says, studying the rudimentary grid.
Carver winks at me. “But we can always hope.”
Flynn sweeps his bracket from the ground and then rises, brushing the dirt from his hands. “Too bad we can’t watch the other rounds. Get an idea of what we’re up against.”
As of tonight, all the team
s will be inside. As of tomorrow morning, we’ll all be under lock and key and only let out when it’s our turn to fight.
Carver throws a lean, muscled arm around my shoulders, ignoring Griffin’s narrow-eyed stare. “If Cat’s strategy worked, we’ve made ourselves out as weak enough to avoid the more terrifying teams in the first round.”
“Hopefully.” I frown. “Although weak is a misnomer. There are no weak teams in the Agon Games unless six people want to collectively commit suicide. But they’ll look for teams that don’t have an obvious advantage, like magical creatures or a known Magoi. Well-matched teams put on a better show. Pit Hoi Polloi against Magoi and creatures, and it’s over too fast. The spectators want gore, and they want it to last. Apparently, that’s more fun.”
“So where does that put us?” Carver asks.
And that’s the crystal ball question. Too bad those things don’t work. “It’s hard to say without more knowledge of the other teams. Probably not with creatures in the first round, but I doubt there’s a single team without at least one Magoi with offensive magic.”
“Except for us.” Kato glances at me. “In a manner of speaking.”
I shrug out from under Carver’s heavy arm. He ruffles my hair as I go, setting loose the shorter strands I’d managed to tame into my braid for once.
“I was absolutely truthful when I told the head scribe my magic is defensive.” If I still had my Dragon’s Breath, I would have had to say offensive and list all my individual abilities. I would also have had no problem winning these Games; there would have been very little show, and my team wouldn’t have had to lift a finger.
Once more, I can thank Mother for the colossal shafting and, in a roundabout way, putting myself and everyone I love into mortal danger. Again.
“Can they eliminate us on a technicality when they see you turn the magic around?” Kato asks.
“I don’t see how. The magic won’t come from me. My defense is to grab it and then turn it back on the other team.”
Breath of Fire Page 28
