Page 98 of The Only Way Out Is Up

“Thanks.” She blinks and gives a little shiver, seeming to come back to herself. “I think Saree’s been terribly bored with only fixing uniforms and such to attend to. You know she started on this the minute we arrived? It’s something my mother once wore, apparently, but you wouldn’t know it.” When she raises her hands, the bracelets click softly against the silver wire. “You really like it?”

“Yeah.” She scarcely seems human. If the moon was a girl, she’d look like this. “It’s, um, pretty.”

“You’re not doing so badly yourself,” Ky says. “Who would have thought you’d scrub up so well?”

“Not me, that’s for sure.”

Ky barks a laugh; I feel a little relieved, like I needed evidence she’s still the same person under the glitter. She gives me another look up and down and nods appreciatively.

“Well. Carriage is waiting. Shall we?”

“What about Star? Will he be safe here?”

“Absolutely. Even Dreikin wouldn’t dare.”

I’m not sure I trust anyone on Hod to play by the rules, but there’s nothing to be done about it. I send Star a pulse of reassurance. We’ll be back soon.

[Sternly: you’d better. You crazy kids have a strict curfew.]

Same goes for you, I send with a smile. I don’t want to hear you got drunk and trashed the place.

[Guilty: who, me?]

The Dreikin estate is a few kilometers inward and anti of Ky’s place, so we clip-clop in the runic carriage over the narrow roads and look out at the endless gardens and forests. Worker runics trundle along, trimming and weeding. The lights overhead are darkening for evening.

“Your goal for tonight is to learn as much as possible about the other fighters without giving too much away,” Ky tells me. “And to get close to Alzimyth, if you can.”

“You’re not going to be with me?”

“Not until dinner. It’ll be easier if we split up. There’s some conversations I need to have.”

“With whom?”

“Council families. Allies of my father’s. It’s a long story.” She glances at me. “Even if you win, there’s going to be a lot of work to do.”

I suppress the panic rising in my chest. “Fine. I’ll try not to be embarrassing.”

“If it helps, expectations for you are very low. They think people from the undercity are barely human. Don’t show your ass or shit on the tables and you’ll be ahead of the game.”

We ride in silence for a few moments.

“Did you ever think that?”

“Think what?”

“That we were barely human.”

Ky frowns thoughtfully. “Father always said that people are just people, wherever they come from. We’re all just as shitty as each other.”

“He sounds like quite an optimist.”

“I think the two of you would have gotten along.” She takes a deep breath and points out the window. “There’s Dreikin’s place. We’re here.”

Ky’s home, large as it is, still feels like a house, a single building meant for people to live in. This is something else entirely. Instead of one structure, it’s a half dozen, each the size of the Tranto residence and all arranged around a massive central courtyard and garden. A fountain several times the size of our bakery sprays dozens of jets into the air in an ever-shifting pattern illuminated by colored sigwork lights. Huge glass doors open from the largest building onto a broad veranda overlooking the greenery, while a single room that could have housed Venci’s whole fighting pit is set with large round tables around a dance floor with a recessed pit for a dozen musicians. There are hundreds of people here already, in the finest costumes Hod can produce. I’m already feeling pressure in my chest by the time we reach the door.

“You’ll be fine,” Ky whispers, somehow sensing my nerves. “Just follow my lead.”

Whispers follow us as she sweeps in, and she is suddenly the focus of all eyes. It’s not just that she’s the most beautiful girl in the room, though she is; the elite of Hod society has been waiting for her. The lost daughter returned, and who knows what will happen next. It’s high entertainment. The guests chatter among themselves, but no one actually steps up to talk to Ky until Devon Dreikin himself comes forward. He gives a bow, graceful in spite of his bulk, and tiny bells attached to his thick braids chime softly.