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“Surely you will not back down from mine.”
“I am the referee tonight. It would not be appropriate for me to enter battle.”
“You mean to tell me you will let your children do your work for you?”
Lio gritted his teeth. Thorns, did the mage have a death wish?
“I do not fight with children,” Aunt Lyta said. “I do teach them, however. If you came here for a lesson, that I will give you.”
“I already learned how to fight in a very different school,” Chrysanthos retorted. “Of that, I assure you, I am a master.”
“Then by all means, Honored Master Adelphos. Show us what you know. But you cannot do so with me. This is a cordial fight in honor of a diplomatic occasion. I think it would be in poor taste for me to meet any member of Aithouros’s cult in battle, don’t you?”
The Dexion’s aura was afire. “Very well. It seems none of the real warriors are left to me. In honor of this ‘diplomatic’ occasion, I will teach the ambassador a lesson. Deukalion, will you accept my challenge?”
Before Lio could answer, Mak planted a hand on his chest and held him back.
“Hold your horses.” Mak spoke at Hesperine volume, but his voice was implacable. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“This from my most reckless cousin?” Lio protested.
“I make sure never to be reckless at the same time you are. One of us has to keep a clear head to stop the other from being an ass.”
“I cannot refuse.”
“Yes, you can,” Lyros returned. “We will contrive an honorable excuse.”
“I will not refuse,” Lio said. “Nothischallenge.”
Mak released him, albeit reluctantly. “Just remember what we’ve taught you.”
“And remember the rules,” Lyros warned.
Lio stepped forward and gave Chrysanthos an impeccably diplomatic bow. “It will be my pleasure to answer your challenge.”
Lio sent up a silent prayer for self-discipline. He would have to work very hard indeed not to leave his own Summit in the dust of the gymnasium.
SUNFIRE
The wards on Standheadquarters shut out all sound from the rest of the gymnasium, although the ring was right outside the door. Lio could still feel the crowd waiting on them. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the furor of the mortals and Hesperines, combined in the Blood Union, had made the maps tremble on the walls and the documents shudder in the scroll racks.
Javed set his red fabric healer’s satchel on Aunt Lyta’s desk and passed out bottles of Sunfire.
Lio uncorked his blue bottle and sniffed the concoction. “This doesn’t smell half as bad as thirst suppressant.”
“I don’t trust anything that smells like flowers.” Mak peered into his brown bottle.
“You have nothing to fear,” Javed assured them. “Sunfire is a truly deadly poison, but only in the hands of those with malign intent.”
“Like Gift Collectors,” Kadi supplied, “or heart hunters.”
“Yes, as our guest Master Skleros could attest.” Javed showed a rare scowl, his regret and protectiveness reverberating through the Union. “If I had been more thorough when I confiscated his supplies, he would not have been able to endanger Cassia. He has threatened our own by turning tonic into poison. Tonight, let me make amends by turning poison into an antidote to conflict.”
“Thank you for doing this, Javed,” Lio told him.
Javed nodded. “I have taken every possible precaution to ensure my Sunfire potion achieves the desired effect of guaranteeing fair matches, but without putting any of you in real danger. The concentration is only high enough to affect your capacities, and too low to prove fatal. I have also enhanced the solution with beneficial herbs and healing magic to buffer you from any unnecessary, unpleasant effects.”
Worry wore at Lyros’s determined aura, but he did not renew his attempts to persuade Lio there was still an honorable way to avoid Chrysanthos’s challenge.
