We raced down the length of the arena in a thunder of hooves and rattling wheels. Aysulu bent her head against the wind, squinting into the dust. I could not hear the crowds over the noise, but I could just make out the spectators closest to the ground, gripping the rails and leaning out as far as they dared.
Pace by pace, our chariot was gaining ground. Jahan and Alaric traded blows ahead of us, their staffs knocking together with a force that could break bones. We slipped between the Lion and Wolf’s chariot and the wall and caught up to Jin and Heishiro.
I awoke with the sun, and I heard the sound of someone moving quietly outside my door, stoking the fire and boiling water. Khalim still slept, a tangle of long brown limbs stretched out on the narrow bed beside me. He slept easy, his breathing deep and even. For the moment, no dreams troubled him.
I do not remember if I dreamt, but now that I was awake, guilt plagued me. Had I made a terrible mistake? Maybe it would have been wiser to keep my distance, so that whatever was to come, I could believe at least I had not made things worse. But it was already too late for that—it had been well before the previous evening.
As they left the industrial district, Reva split off to head through the back alleys toward the slums, and Aysulu and Garvesh went on to the noble quarter. It was almost fully dark, with only the faintest glow of the setting sun casting light on the hills beyond the city walls. Phyreios itself did not sleep during the festival, and already it was lit up in an array of torches and lanterns that outshone the glittering stars above.
Aysulu kicked her horse forward, nocking an arrow to her bow. I followed, keeping Khalim and Garvesh behind me. The salamander looked at us with one eye, small and shiny like a glass bead, and then turned its head to examine us with the other. Steam poured from its nostrils.
It was customary, I learned, for the entire team to face their beast, even those who had no skill for combat. Khalim’s value to us in this fight was obvious, but I was less sure about Garvesh.
He soon proved his worth. “I have read of these creatures,” he said, peering out around my shoulder. “They live in caves—it will be nearly blind in daylight. And watch for its tail! That will trip you as sure as its breath will burn you.”
The contest of oratory was a quiet reprieve from the activity of the day. When it concluded, there was a rush to find something to eat and to heal those who had been injured in the duels. A greater test of strength and skill was coming. Aysulu slipped out to fetch her horse from the Darela estate, accompanied by a few of the house guards, who wore surcoats of sapphire blue. She returned, horse in tow, as the crowd applauded the last speaker.
I waited until Khalim woke on his own to get up. When I came back with food for the team, he was pacing the length of the bench restlessly.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“There are others who are hurt,” he said. “I should help them.”
From where I stood, I could see the high seats where the Seven observed the games. They shone in the sunlight, their skin and their draped garments shimmering as though woven of metal, their faces serene and unmoving. At the center sat Andam the emperor and Shanzia his consort, father and mother to all of Phyreios. Watching them there in all of their finery, I felt I understood their haughty assurance that they could command all within their borders, including the worm under the mountain.
They had already once been wrong, however. I was certain that during the night they believed Khalim to be dead, but he had overcome. Now, of course, they knew the truth: he yet lived, and he was mostly unharmed, his magic having overcome the Serpents’ poison. If they still wished him ill, they would have to try harder. I had slain two Serpents, myself, and Aysulu had taken the third. I would only have to be faster and more vigilant the next time.
The arbiter called me forth to the ring. Were the Ascended watching me, studying my performance in this contest to find the means by which I could be bested? There was nothing to be done about it but to win the contest and the approval of the citizens, and make certain that the Sword of Heaven was awarded either to our team or to an ally.
I must have fallen asleep, for my next memory is of the early morning sunlight streaming through the narrow window of Khalim’s room. My neck ached from sleeping upright, and my tongue was dry in my mouth. Someone was walking quietly around the common room, careful not to disturb those who still slept.
I pulled myself to my feet and turned to Khalim. His eyes remained closed, though his breathing had grown uneven, and I could not tell whether he had awoken. Had the medicine Garvesh had mixed for him done its work? There was no way for me to tell; I had no skill for medicine.
Whoever you are, I prayed to Khalim’s god, though I knew not if he could hear me, you must not let him die.
As we left the ceremony, Aysulu caught sight of Jin and his companions, and congratulated them on being named champions. I had purchased some of the Cerean spirits the night before, hoping to celebrate, but my plans had been thwarted by Reva calling the meeting. It was of no matter: we had much more to celebrate now, as both our teams would have a chance at the Sword of Heaven over the next two days. We extended an invitation to meet us at our safe house for drinks, and the disciples of the Dragon Temple gladly accepted.
“You all know why we are here,” Reva proclaimed, and the empty walls of the warehouse echoed her words back to her. “We are here to free Phyreios from the tyranny of the Seven Ascended. The festival has given us a chance to act. I need to know that all of you are with me.”
I awoke just before sunrise, and after only a short while I abandoned my futile attempts to sleep again. It was for the best that I would not compete this day, as I had not rested well. My thoughts were churning like the icy mountain streams in the land of my birth, fed by snow-melt in the spring. I feared that the banks of my mind would be flooded if I remained by myself in the quiet. I rose and left my room to light the fire. In these dry climes, the early mornings were cold, even in the summer.
A fellow competitor, Rhea of the Golden Road team, had been attacked and nearly killed by a man in a mask. Reva had assured us that we would be safe during the Cerean Tournament; that it was forbidden to attack any of the contestants and that fairness in the games was sacred. She had been counting on that principle to keep Khalim safe, so that he and his god would not be at risk from the Ascended even after he made his presence known in the contest of magic. Now all the people of Phyreios knew his face and his name and what he could do.
Could I keep him safe? I was unable to protect Fearghus, all those months ago.
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