Tycho scowls. “If we go tearing out of here, that scraverwillhear it. We don’t need him chasing us.” He pauses. “We’ll leave quietly and make a plan. I wish we’d had one more minute to hear what they were planning. We might have to split up and send word in both directions.”
“Have you seen him before?” I say. “Xov—”
“Don’tsay his name.” He casts a glance over his shoulder, as if the scraver might have followed us into the crowds. “I have no idea how much he can hear.” He winces a little. “I’m trying to stay calm so my magic doesn’t flare.”
“That was a smart trick, in the woods.” I hesitate. “Do you think she might have recognized us?”
He considers that for a minute. “No one came after us— and there were definitely enough of them to cause trouble. I never spoke with her directly, and I only ever saw her once. I doubt she’d expect either of us to behere.” He bumps me with his shoulder. “And you’re walking.”
That’s true. “So maybe we’re safe.”
He hooks an arm around my neck, exactly the way I did to him earlier. It lights a fire in my gut that reminds me of the way he tugged me against the tree. “And together,” he whispers.
My heart does a flip in my chest. Again, I wish we could find a room and forget everything we’re supposed to be doing.
But then Leo appears in the crowd. His eyes are searching every face, his expression tight and drawn.
Tycho spots him the instant I do. “Leo,” he calls sharply.
I expect the young soldier to look relieved when he spots us, but instead, concern washes across his expression. He cuts through the people to join us.
“I’ve been looking for you all over,” he says.
“What’s wrong?” says Tycho.
“It’s Mal and Sephran.”
“Are they in trouble?”
“No.” Leo grimaces. “For a while, they were fine, but then we couldn’t find you, so we headed for the stables, and they couldn’t decide what to do, so then they—”
“Leo! What’s happeningnow?”
“They’re fighting.”
Tycho sighs, then swears under his breath. “Show me.”
We hear Sephran and Malin before we see them— and considering the noise of the tourney, that’s saying something. They’re on the far side of the stables, and I have no idea how long they’ve been fighting, but they’re rolling in the dirt, fists swinging.
“At least they’re not in the middle of the crowd,” Tycho says, sighing. He strides forward. “Mal,” he growls. “We need to get out of here. We don’t have time for this.”
Malin shoves Sephran onto his back, then draws a fist to punch him. “Oh, he’s had it coming fordays—”
Tycho grabs hold of his arm before Malin can swing, and they grapple for a minute.
“Let him do it!” Sephran snaps. “Just let him—”
“Shutup,” Tycho says. He drags Malin back, and Leo rushes forward to help him. Together they’re able to drag him off Sephran.
“I’m fine!” Mal snarls. “I’mfine. Let me go.”
Suddenly free, Sephran finds his feet. “No. Hold him so I can finish this.” He strides forward, fist swinging.
“Stop,” I say. “Sephran,stop.” I surge forward to block him, but on my false foot, I’m not as fast as the others were. He’s midswing, and I go for his arm, the way Tycho just did to Malin.
But I’m too slow— or maybe he’s too fast. Instead of slamming a fist into Malin, his arm slams right into my throat.
Stars explode in my vision. The pain is sudden and shocking. I don’trealize I’m falling until I hit the ground. I hear them shouting my name, but I don’t know who it is. Tycho? Sephran? I can’t quite focus.
