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“Choose air,” she told him with as much determination as possible.
“If any of this is true and I can only have one, then it should be fire.”
“Air,” she repeated.
Her pulse weakened. She could feel herself barely holding on. But she needed to tell him the last part. She needed to tell him about the knife.
“Princeling…”
He rolled his eyes. “You should rest. Something more irritating than normal has happened to your head.” He rose to his feet. “I have a tournament to get to, and if I’m late, I won’t be able to compete.”
“Wait,” she whispered. Then slightly louder. “Fordham, please.”
He stopped for a brief second at the sound of his full name. But then he strode out of the room.
Gods, no. She needed to…
She knew what she needed, but the exhaustion and magic depravation took her first. And the darkness claimed her.
* * *
Kerrigan awoke in the dark on a hard pallet. She cracked open her eyes and looked around the room in confusion. She blinked to adjust to the dim light coming in from the cracked doorway and slowly rose up to an elbow, fighting back dizziness. This wasn’t her room. It wasn’t the Wastes.
She tried to clear her mind. And then they snapped back open. Her vision.
“Scales!”
It all came back to her in a rush. The strangely accurate vision that had been so unlike the ones she’d had in the past. This almost seemed clear. Fordham was going to go into arena for the first task. He had to choose an element. It was like in the Dragon Ring, which meant he had to choose air. She always used air because people underestimated her, and that gave her an advantage.
She didn’t know why or even how the tournament was the same as what she’d been fighting in the Wastes, but it didn’t matter. Either she was being watched or someone else from the Society frequented the Wastes and had taken the idea from there.
But at this moment, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the knife.
Kerrigan hoisted herself to her feet, ignoring the dizzy spell that threatened to topple her back onto Fordham’s bed. She flushed at that thought, and then quickly dismissed it. Everything ached as she ambled back down the competitor hallway, into the main hall, and continued toward the arena.
She had no way of knowing how long she had been out or if her absence was noted. Her first day on the job, and she was already slacking. She would have laughed if it didn’t hurt her ribs.
Finally, she came out to the back side of the arena. She heard cheers within. They’d already started. Scales!
“Kerrigan!” a man snapped.
She cringed. “Hello, Master Callian.”
Master Callian was a tall, imposing man with light-brown skin and a finely kept beard that he took much joy in. He worked in the greenhouse on the eastern side of the mountain. She had disrupted his work one too many times. Possibly maybe even confiscated some of his herbs for recreational use. He wasn’t a fan.
“I am certain this is not where you are supposed to be,” Callian said.
“No, sir,” she said amicably. “I’ve been assigned to Master Bastian’s care for the length of the tournament, and I have to get inside.”
He humphed. “Well, perhaps Bastian can teach you some manners.” He wrenched a side door open and gestured for her to enter. “You’re lucky. I am a secondary administrator to the tournament.”
She wouldn’t call that lucky, but she was glad she hadn’t had to find a way to sneak in. She didn’t know the competitors’ box like she did the House of Dragons’ area.
“Thank you, sir,” she said quickly and then hastened inside.
Half of the competitors were standing around, watching the arena. A few of them looked in her direction when she entered with Callian on her heels, but they made no comment. Most of them looked bruised or banged up but were healing. None of them were Fordham.
Kerrigan’s gaze swung to the arena and the sun blazing overhead. Gods, it was past high noon. She’d been out for hours. She’d missed almost everything. Her eyes sought out Fordham in the arena, but then she was gently pushed forward.
“Come along, Kerrigan,” Callian said.
She followed behind him, and he sat her down next to another young girl she’d never seen before. She was taller than Kerrigan with creamy, fair skin and ashy-blonde hair. She didn’t look up when Kerrigan plopped down next to her.
“You can help Valia keep score and run the finals up to the top box after each match. You know where the top box is?”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now, work. Stay quiet and out of trouble.”
She pretended to button her mouth, and Callian glared harder before disappearing back the way he’d come.
“Hi, I’m Kerrigan,” she said, extending her hand to Valia. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”
