Eira inhaled the smell of dust and fresh paint sharply, as though the sound had actually thickened the air, making it harder to breathe. The sunlight struck her face, stinging hercheeks. She emerged into the heart of the coliseum, blinking, dazed by the sudden assault on her senses.
Flower petals rained from above. They were thrown from the risers that stretched the crowd up at least a hundred rows tall. Tiny flags bearing the colors of every nation shimmered like the scales of fish swimming through the sea of people. The symbols and colors were mirrored on the pennons that lined the top of the coliseum.
Ahead of them to the north, directly opposite the entry for the competitors, was a platform. It split the rows of spectators from the upper edge of the dusty arena they marched through up to the very top of the coliseum. Eira couldn’t make out the faces of those seated from her distance at the far side. But she knew thrones when she saw them.
Overhead the royalty were five large tubes, each filled a quarter way with a different colored sand. At the top of each tube was a flag corresponding with a nation. Gold sand was for the Solaris Empire, gray for the Queendom of Meru, green for the Republic of Qwint, red for the Kingdom of Draconi, and blue for the Twilight Kingdom.
They marched around the perimeter of the arena. Men and women, dressed in finery, sat in the lower rungs, just above them. These were no doubt the most sought-after seats—close enough to see the blood, sweat, and every spark of magic. Some tossed flowers and coins to favored competitors. Eira wondered if Solaris actually received fewer tokens of favor, or if that was all her imagination.
What wasn’t her imagination was the few elfin who sneered at her. They stuck out more than those cheering. A trickle of sweat ran down the back of her neck. Even though the games hadn’t begun, she was already on alert. An attack could come from anywhere, at any time, and she had to be ready. Ulvarthhad already made a show at the ball last night…it wasn’t far-fetched to think he would strike now when all eyes were on them.
From the corner of her eye, she could see Cullen, smiling and waving. He had both hands high in the air, beaming from ear to ear. The world felt like it slowed. Even the music held its breath. Horns gave way to strings, soaring as high as the birds far above them. She saw every wave of his hair as it glistened in the sunlight in painstaking detail. The jewels and gold that adorned him sparkled, and he shone with strength and power and wonder. And then, amid the chaos of it all, he turned to her.
His smile only grew. His cheeks were flushed as if she had been recently kissing him. Every muscle and bone in her was pulled in opposing directions, to the point of sweet pain.
“Can you believe we’re here?” he asked. She didn’t hear him as much as she read his lips. Eira could only shake her head. Words failed her. “It’s magnificent.” His hand dropped, slipping into hers, giving her fingers a single squeeze before releasing.You’re magnificent, the movement seemed to say.
He turned back to the crowd and, just like that, before she had a chance to say or do anything, the moment was gone. The noise and eyes of all those assembled were back upon her. Eira worked to get her guard up once more.
She couldn’t let Cullen disarm her that easily. Not when it was more important than ever to stay alert. Eira quickly tore her eyes from him and focused on the royals, on scanning the coliseum for any Pillars she recognized, Alyss and Noelle behind them,anythingbut him.
They rounded the arena and the parade turned sharply left to march down the very center. The procession came to a stop to thunderous applause and a climax of music and tambourines. As everything reached its peak, explosions rang out.
It sounded like cannon fire and Eira flinched, looking for an attack. There was a chorus of sharp gasps,oohsandaahsasthe sky overhead was transformed into a rainbow of sparkling color. Dozens of explosions continued to thunder, rattling the foundations of the coliseum, sending the sparking balls higher and higher. Lightspinning danced between the explosions, connecting them. Lacy beasts, spun from light, jumped from magic disk to disk, soundlessly roaring before disappearing in the next burst.
“It’s like the constellations come to life,” Cullen said in awe at her side. “How can they do that?”
“Lightspinners can make illusions, not unlike Waterrunners.” The initial panic at the sound abating, Eira allowed herself to enjoy the spectacle a moment. Levit was right: she had come so far and fought so hard to be here. Perhaps one of the greatest acts of defiance against Ulvarth—short of actually finding and killing him—would be to enjoy herself. He had tried to smother her in an endless void once and failed. She wouldn’t let him succeed again.
The music reached its end, the final note fading alongside the remnants of the shimmering display. Lumeria stood along with four others. Eira recognized the sun crown, glinting off Emperor Solaris’s brow, though the empress was not at his side, which was odd to Eira. The two were so rarely seen apart. Arwin stood in the place for the Twilight Kingdom; Eira knew she was a daughter of the king, but she had made it a point to stress how that didn’t mean she was any sort of princess, or in the line of succession. Which made Eira wonder if the draconi who stood was actually the king, or just another appointed representative—same for the graying and elderly man who remained seated in the box with the colors of the Republic of Qwint.
“Why aren’t all the leaders here?” Eira asked no one in particular.
“My father told me in the carriage that only about half the dignitaries had arrived,” Cullen whispered back. “Apparently there were logistical issues.”
“Logistical issues?” Eira repeated, her mind already going to the Pillars.
“Our emperor and empress traveled on separate ships to avoid the possibility of attack on both sovereigns at once and one was caught in some weather—though nothing serious. I hear there have also been some shifts in the leadership of the Republic of Qwint leading to debate on who should be here—something about apublicelection?” The words were strange. Eira resisted asking. She knew how he came across that information and didn’t want to pry. “Not to mention every state must ensure that they have a sufficient power structure in place so there’s someone in charge when the real leaders leave. Those structures can take time to set up and some states didn’t want to remove their leaders until absolutely necessary as a result.”
“I see…” It all made sense, and sounded benign enough. But with the Pillars still at large, there was always the risk of a more sinister explanation for absent nobility.
Taavin was among the elfin contingent. He made his way to the center staircase of the royals’ box. He had changed from the simple clothes Eira had seen him in earlier. Now he wore layers upon layers of heavy fabrics that made up gray robes, trimmed in purple and gold. They were fitting of his position as the Voice of Yargen—leader of the Faithful and head of the religion that held as much power on Meru as the queen herself. He held out his hands and turned his eyes skyward.
A hush fell over the crowd.
Half of the gathered spectators lowered their faces and raised their hands as well. Eira noticed that two of the Meru competitors did the same. Olivin wasn’t among the two, but he and one of the other male competitors lowered theirheads reverently. Even though she had never been particularly religious, Eira could feel the weight of the moment.
“What’s happening?” Alyss asked her with a whisper.
“Some kind of rite of Yargen, I assume.” Eira was rummaging through her memories of things she’d read about Meru and couldn’t come up with anything specific for opening ceremonies or buildings. But there had never been a tournament like this before, either.
Taavin’s lips moved swiftly. Light spun forth from him. Circles wrapped upon circles, connected with dots and circles, and combining to form shapes that Eira didn’t recognize. She’d tried to memorize Lightspinning by the glyph’s shapes in the texts she’d read, but these were new and different. Perhaps a special magic unique to the Voice of Yargen. The magic rose up to the opening of the coliseum, high above.
He lifted his palms and the glyphs broke apart, light cascading down to them like fireflies. Eira held out her hand. The magic was absorbed into her skin and, for a brief moment, her senses felt sharper and powers stronger—what she would imagine a real blessing to feel like. Was the goddess real? Part of her had always doubted that gods and goddesses were anything more than excuses for the wicked and power-hungry to exert control. But this feeling of power…
The crowd erupted into cheers as the light faded and Taavin took his seat behind Lumeria and next to Vi. The latter leaned over, saying something to him. A smile crossed his lips. Eira could see their hands subtly slip into each other’s, shoulders touching in a quiet and simple display of intimacy and affection. One that only made her heart hurt yet again. Thankfully, the queen standing offered her another distraction.
“Our loyal subjects,” Lumeria said. Her usually quiet voice was magically enhanced, and it boomed from every corner of the coliseum. “We welcome you to the first annual Tournament ofFive Kingdoms!” She waited for the applause to die down before continuing, “This treaty was a mere dream a few years ago—an apt proposal that, together, we would be stronger physically, economically, and culturally than apart. The promises we will make here is the first step toward that dream. By unifying economically, with one simple trade system, our goods and cultures and peoples will flow easier between our borders and deepen our relationships. We must give credit to the originator and primary organizer of this agreement—the Crown Princess of the Solaris Empire, Vi Solaris.”
