“Thank you,” she whispered, watching the mark trace its way through her eye, across her brow and cheek. “Thank you.”

It took her several long seconds to get to her feet, but she forced herself up as Holland returned the horrible collar to its silver bowl, the gloves melting from his fingers into shadow around the metal.

“Your Majesty,” said Ojka, hating the quiver in her voice. “Who is the collar for?”

Holland brought his fingers to his heart, his expression unreadable.

“An old friend.”

If that is for a friend, she thought, what does Holland do to enemies?

“Go,” he said, returning to his throne. “Recover your strength. You’re going to need it.”

I

When Lila woke up the next day, it took her a moment to remember where she was, and, more importantly, why everything hurt.

She remembered retreating to Elsor’s room the night before, resisting the urge to collapse onto his bed still fully dressed. She’d somehow gotten back into her own clothes, her own room at the Wandering Road, though she didn’t remember much of the journey. It was now well into morning. Lila couldn’t recall the last time she’d slept so long, or so deeply. Wasn’t sleep supposed to make you feel rested? She only felt exhausted.

Her boot was trapped beneath something that turned out to be Alucard’s cat. Lila didn’t know how the creature had gotten into her room. She didn’t care. And the cat didn’t seem to care about her either. She barely moved when Lila dragged her foot free, and sat up.

Every part of her protested.

It wasn’t just the wear and tear of the match—she’d gotten in some bad fights before, but nothing felt like this. The only thing that even came close was the aftermath of the black stone. The talisman’s repercussions had been hollowing and sudden, where this was subtle but deep. Proof that magic wasn’t an inexhaustible resource.

Lila dragged herself off the cot, stifling a grunt of pain, grateful that the room was empty. She tugged off her clothes as gingerly as possible, wincing at the bruises that had started to blossom across her ribs. The thought of fighting again today made her cringe, and yet some part of her thrilled at the idea. Admittedly, it was a very small part of her.

Dangerous.

Reckless.

Foolish.

Mad.

The words were beginning to feel more like badges of pride than blows.

Downstairs, the main room was sparsely populated, but she spotted Alucard at a table along the wall. She crossed the room, boots scuffing until she reached him and sank into a chair.

He was looking over a paper, and he didn’t look up when she put her head down on the table with a soft thud.

“Not much of a morning person?”

She grumbled something unkind. He poured her a cup of rich black tea, spices weaving through the steam.

“Such a useless time of day,” she said, dragging herself upright and taking the cup. “Can’t sleep. Can’t steal.”

“There is more to life.”

“Like what?”

“Like eating. And drinking. And dancing. You missed quite a ball last night.”

She groaned at the thought. It was too early to imagine herself as Stasion Elsor performing in an arena, let alone in a palace. “Do they celebrate every night?”

“Believe it or not, some people actually come to the tournament just for the parties.”

“Doesn’t it get tiresome, all that …” She waved her hand, as if the whole thing could be summed up with a single gesture. In truth, Lila had only been to one ball in her entire life, and that night had started with a demon’s mask and a glorious new coat, and ended with both covered in a prince’s blood and the stony remains of a foreign queen.

Alucard shrugged, offering her some kind of pastry. “I can think of less pleasant ways to pass a night.”

She took the bread-thing and nibbled on the corner. “I keep forgetting you’re a part of that world.”

His look cooled. “I’m not.”

The breakfast was reviving; her vision started to focus, and as it did, her attention narrowed on the paper in his hands. It was a copy of the bracket, the eighteen victors now paired off into nine new sets. She’d been so tired, she hadn’t even checked.

“What does the field look like today?”

“Well, I have the luxury of going up against one of my oldest friends, not to mention the best wind magician I’ve ever met—”

“Jinnar?” asked Lila, suddenly interested. That would be quite a match.

Alucard nodded grimly, “And you’ve only got to face …” He trailed his finger across the page. “…Ver-as-Is.”

“What do you know about him?” she asked.

Alucard’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, have you mistaken me for a comrade? The last time I checked we were on opposite sides of the bracket.”

“Come on, Captain. If I die in this, you’ll have to find yourself a new thief.”

The words were out before she remembered she’d already lost her place aboard the Night Spire. She tried a second time. “My witty banter is one of a kind. You know you’ll miss it when I’m gone.” Again, it was the wrong thing to say, and a heavy silence settled in its wake. “Fine,” she said, exasperated. “Two more questions, two more answers, in exchange for whatever you know.”

Alucard’s lips quirked. He folded the roster and set it aside, lacing his fingers with exaggerated patience. “When did you first come to our London?”