Page 109 of The Only Way Out Is Up

“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…”

THIRTY-FOUR

Two days later, we stand outside the arena once again for the second fight of the third round.

The first fight, this morning, is something I would have deeply liked to see. Quech had soundly beaten his second-round opponent yesterday, and this morning he’d been scheduled to start off the third round against an experienced master by the name of Entop. According to Ky, scuttlebutt gave Entop a better-than-even chance; he and his monstrous slab of a runic Finjit have won several lesser tournaments.

Observing those two would have been invaluable, since I’ll have to fight the victor if I win this match. Unfortunately, repairs and upgrades to Star have taken longer than I anticipated, and without several hours’ more work this morning he wouldn’t have been ready for the match. Ky will try to round up a report of the fight, but as we arrive there’s audible muttering from the crowd and a general air of discontent.

Ky gives me her usual “Okay okay okay” and a sharp blow to the shoulder, then departs for the stands. Niami is already waiting with Bitey in front of the judge’s platform, and she runs over to greet me, smiling broadly.

“Taj! Are you looking forward to this as much as I am?”

I debate asking whether existential terror counts as “looking forward,” but ultimately I just give a shrug.

“Watching Star’s last fight was amazing. The way it went sort of shoom and then Clatter came in gdoom and Star went fwoop! Absolutely crazy.”

[Assessment: finally, someone who truly appreciates me.]

“Thanks,” I tell her. “Yours was… very impressive, too.”

“Eh.” She waves a hand modestly. “Never should have gone that long. That crab’s a one-trick… crab.”

“Have you been here since this morning?”

“Yeah.” Her grin falters. “You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Entop’s dead.”

“Quech?”

She nods seriously. “He went for Entop personally. Everyone was expecting that, and Entop kept out of his way, but he lost track of Vripiai and got flattened ‘accidentally.’” Niami snorts. “Not that even Devon Dreikin believes that. Finjit was barely scratched. The Anyms are furious, they’ve been shouting to anyone who’ll listen that Devon is cheating his way through the tournament.”

“Shit.” Another runic master dead at that lunatic’s hands. “Is anybody likely to do anything about it?”