It took less than a minute for Alucard to land the first blow on Rul’s shoulder. It took more than five for Rul to land the second on Alucard’s shin. Tos-an-Mir seemed content to let the two men strike each other from the books, until Alucard landed an icy blow to the back of her knees, and then she joined the fray.
The air in the royal booth was suffocating. Rhy was silent, slumped tiredly in the shadow of the balcony’s awning, while Kell stood vigilantly beside the king, whose gaze never wavered from the match.
Below, Tos-an-Mir moved like a gold-masked shadow, dancing on the air, while Rul loped and lunged in his predatory lupine way. Alucard still moved with a noble’s poise, even as his elements arced and crashed around him in a storm. The sounds of the fight were lost beneath the swell of cheers, but every point was marked by an explosion of light, a burst of brightness that only drove the crowd to a higher pitch.
And then, mercifully, the tension in the royal booth began to ease. The mood lightened, like the air after a storm, and Kell felt dizzy with relief. Attendants brought tea. Prince Col made a joke, and Maxim laughed. The queen complimented Lord Sol-in-Ar’s magician.
By the end of the hour, Rul was out of plates, sitting on the stone floor looking dazed while Alucard and Tos-an-Mir danced around each other, crashing together like swords before breaking apart. And then, slowly but surely, Alucard Emery began to lose. Kell felt his spirits lift, though Rhy knocked his shoulder when he went so far as to cheer for one of Tos-an-Mir’s hits. He rallied, closing the gap, and they fell into a stalemate.
At last, she got behind Alucard and under his guard. She moved to shatter the last of the his plates with a knifelike gust, but at the last instant, he twisted out of its path and a lash of water split her final piece of armor.
And just like that, it was over.
Alucard Emery had officially won.
Kell let out a groan as the stadium erupted into noise, raining down cheers and roses and silver pennants, and filling the air with a name.
“Alucard! Alucard! Alucard!”
And even though Rhy had the good taste not to whoop and shout like the rest of the crowd, Kell could see him beaming proudly as he stepped forward to formally announce the victor of the Essen Tasch.
Sanct, thought Kell. Emery was about to become even more insufferable.
Lord Sol-in-Ar addressed Tos-an-Mir and the crowd in Faroan, Princess Cora praised Rul and the gathered Veskans, and at last Prince Rhy dismissed the stands with promise of parties and closing ceremonies, the rest of the day a cause for celebration.
The king smiled and even clapped Kell on the back as the Maresh family made their way back to the palace, a train of cheerful subjects in their wake.
And as they climbed the palace stairs, and stepped inside the flower-strewn hall, it seemed as if everything would be all right.
And then Kell saw the queen hold Rhy back on the landing with a word, a question, and by the time he turned back to see why they’d stopped, the doors were swinging shut, blocking out the morning light and the sounds of the city. In the dim foyer, Kell caught the glint of metal as the king shed the illusion of kindness and said only two words, not even directed at Kell, but at the six guards that were circling loosely.
Two words that made Kell wish he’d never come back.
“Arrest him.”
VII
Lila lifted her glass with the rest of the Night Spire as they toasted their captain.
The crew was gathered around on table and chair in the Wandering Road, and it was like they were back on the ship after a good night’s take, laughing and drinking and telling stories before she and the captain retreated below.
Alucard Emery was bruised, bloody, and undoubtedly exhausted, but that didn’t stop him from celebrating. He was standing atop a table in the center of the room, buying drinks and giving speeches about birds and dragons, Lila didn’t really know, she’d stopped listening. Her head was still pounding and her bones ached with every motion. Tieren had given her something to soothe the pain and restore her strength, insisting as well on a diet of solid food and real sleep. Both of which seemed about as likely as getting out of London without a price on her head. She’d taken the tonic, made vague promises about the rest.
“Balance,” he’d instructed, pressing the vial into her hand, “is not solely about magic. Some of it is simply common sense. The body is a vessel. If it’s not handled carefully, it will crack. Everyone has limits. Even you, Miss Bard.”
He’d turned to go, but she’d called him back.
“Tieren.” She had to know, before she gave up another life. “You told me once that you saw something in me. Power.”
“I did.”
“What is it?” she’d asked. “What am I?”
Tieren had given her one of his long, level looks. “You are asking whether or not I believe you to be an Antari.”
Lila had nodded.
“That I cannot answer,” said Tieren simply. “I do not know.”
“I thought you were supposed to be wise,” she’d grumbled.
“Whoever told you that?” But then his face turned sober. “You are something, Delilah Bard. As to what, I cannot say. But one way or another, I imagine we’ll find out.”
Somewhere a glass shattered, and Lila’s attention snapped back to the tavern, and Alucard up on the table.
“Hey, Captain,” called out Vasry. “I have a question! What are you planning to do with all those winnings?”
“Buy a better crew,” said Alucard, the sapphire winking again at his brow.