Eli stayed crouching at Austin’s side. His eyes were bright and gleaming, unable to tear his gaze from the fighting for even a moment. They were in their third round, winners fighting winners, and exhaustion was now battling determination.
“They think you’re scouting their fighting power for the monarch,” Eli whispered.
“Who?”
A surge of objecting cries drowned out Austin’s question. The pit fighter Oran slammed Reba onto the ground and kicked his wing joint, making a loudthunk.
“Oran’s the winner,” Jaris called quickly, before a second kick could strike the already downed avian. There was an unhappy grumble from a few men as Reba got shakily to his feet, shaking out his wings with a wince. Inx watched Oran closely as he strode, grinning, across the sand.
Eli muttered, “Asshole.” Then leaned closer. “What are you going to give the winner?”
Austin blinked. He didn’t look at Eli, not wanting to give away his surprise. He’d been throwing around his weight without much thought. It hadn’t occurred to him that anyone actuallyexpectedanything from him. And there was quite the crowd now, the entire estate turned out to watch. The thought of all of them looking at him expectantly as the winner was declared and Austin disappointing them…
Austin studied Reba. He’d revived himself and was cheering on the next fighting duo. His eye was swollen from getting elbowed in the temple, and a busted lip had discoloured his shirt with stains of blood. He seemed to be holding his wing at an uncomfortable angle. Inx walked across the sand to Javis and whispered something in the man’s ear.
Austin pitched his voice low. “Give them?”
“A competition should always have a reward.”
Austin dealt out punishments to those nearest him. His presence was universally considered an unwanted, unpleasant thing. And even if he was in Ireland with Cessair’s resources at his disposal, he wouldn’t give someone part of something so tainted as areward.
The match ended. Some adjustment was made, and the next match lot was called: Inx and Oran. The ensuing match made it clear that Inx had been taking it easy on all his opponents thus far. Oran was struck hard, grappled to the ground, and had his ribs fallen upon by sharp knees. Inx drove his chintin-armoured arm beneath Oran’s jaw, snapping half his poisonous spines. A cheer went up.
Inx helped Oran back onto his feet, but the look the men exchanged was far from friendly. Inx retook his position leaning against the porch, Reba sneaking him a grateful, admiring look. Oran limped away.
The stress of what to give the winner loomed greater as the competition neared its climax. His enjoyment evaporated. Uncertainty took its place, making his heart race and his thoughts turn sharp-edged. Austin gritted his teeth, fighting down the feeling. A yet untouched bottle of wine drew his eye to the table.
“Give me that,” Austin ordered, and felt his own eyes widen at the viciousripin voice.
Kada and Eli yelped in surprise. Jaris produced a horrible discordant note on his guitar, and everyone,every single person, covered their ears and flinched away.
A horrible silence followed his unpleasant, harmful voice. The two men who’d been fighting stood shock-still on the sands, the spectators went deathly quiet, and those nearest him didn’t seem to even be breathing. The atmosphere had spoiled so suddenly it felt like violence against Austin’s skin.
His teeth ached.
The urge to leap up and retreat raced through him, but dozens of eyes upon him killed that compulsion mid-formation. Austin wouldn’t let himself look so weak in front of all of these people.
Without meaning to, his top lip curled back. He embraced the snarl. “Leave,” he ordered, expecting their flinches this time. The only way to have spared them was not to speak at all, but sitting there as they all stared was intolerable.
Everyone moved quickly. The Troop and spectators were gone in seconds, the disrupted sand the only evidence of them having been there at all. The porch emptied out even faster.
By the time Austin had drawn in two shaky breaths, he was alone.
Chapter Eleven
Night was falling when Austin hobbled stiffly down the long beach and sank into the ocean. He saw little more than gloom and shadows when he dove, advancing until the weight above him was enough to settle his nerves. Irritability and restless unease were slow to recede, but as he sat in the ocean breathing through his gills, reason crept over instinct and reaction.
He needed to get back to Ireland. The fever had stripped him of the little strength he’d recovered, but it wasn’t as if he had much choice anymore.
This place had been an unexpected respite, but Austin clearly couldn’t control himself enough for it to last. He tried to console himself with the fact that he’d finally met a merman who didn’t despise him on sight. Tristan’s bright, interested gaze stuck in his mind like tar. Austin pulled free of it with effort.
He thought of the place where he’d hidden in the city of monsters months ago. The hay loft above a stable, the smell of beasts, the voices of men. Austin had taken on a nocturnal existence those few weeks, hiding from everyone bar the stable master. In exchange for Austin’s lacklustre stable cleaning, the man left out food for him that was often ignored. He never stopped bringing it, though.
Tristan’s accusation ofstarvingsurfaced in his mind.
He was. He felt it, clawing not in his stomach but in his head, making it ache, fuelling everything in Austin’s mind he wished would go away.
Just as Austin resolved to set out, a shadow blocked out the moonlight. He tilted back his head and peered through the gloom at Tristan swimming by overhead. The merman circled, and Austin sensed rather than saw that he was being studied. Austin looked away first. Just a minute, and he’d set out towards the Tear. He’d figure it out. Somehow.
