Iluze had won the last Decemvirate, meaning the newest Illusionist challenger would have the most buzz surrounding them. They had difficult shoes to fill, as the reigning champion, but also wielded the most powerful magic.
I searched the crowd and saw a bright flash emanating from behind me. Jerking my head around, I let out a choked gasp as the flames from the decorative lantern at my back jumped to the sleeve of my thick sweater. I rapidly beat at my arm to smother the fire, glancing up to see Nox’s bewildered expression.
“What in the world are you doing?” he asked.
My jaw dropped as I pulled on the end of my sleeve, getting ready to rip the entire thing off. The flames wouldn’t go out, and the heat was beginning to sear my skin. “What am Idoing? Seriously? I’m trying to put out this fire!”
A snicker sounded from the left. “He can’t see it, but please, don’t stop taking off your clothes on my account,” the new voice said.
In the blink of an eye, the flames disappeared from my sleeve, the fabric not evenscorched or smoking.
It wasn’t real.
Fates. I hated Illusionists.
Closing my eyes, I clenched my jaw and slowly turned on my heel. When I opened them, I was staring into the face of the young man I’d seen earlier in the crowd, the one with close-cropped black hair who’d seemed amused by the idea of brutality among the challengers. His square jaw flexed, his full lips pulling up in a smug smirk. A circular ring piercing his bottom lip glittered in the firelight from the perfectly intact lantern. Anger licked at my skin like the false flames I’d felt moments ago. Looking around, I expected to see a guard or someone coming to confront him for attacking me, but we were too far to the side for anyone to notice.
“You two are getting cozy awfully fast, aren’t you?” he asked, motioning between Nox and myself. His voice was low, with a hint of haughtiness that set my teeth on edge. “Is spreading your legs for fellow challengers a new tactic?”
Illusionists were such arrogant bastards. I schooled my features into a look of apathy, picking a loose thread from the opening in my satchel of herbs. “Are you offering?”
His dark eyes flashed. “For you, Feywood, I’d consider it. If only to save you from having to ride that piece of Drakorum?—”
Before he could finish his sentence, my fingers closed around crushed henbane petals in my pouch. I quickly placed one on my tongue and muttered, “Phyxie.”
The man clutched his throat at my curse, his eyes bulging as the breath lifted from his lungs.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name,” I said sweetly as I took a step toward him. I counted the seconds in my head, making sure I had enough time to banish the curse. His nostrils flared and his forehead creased in panic, one hand still around his throat while the other reached for me angrily.
Itsked. “Do they teach you manners in Iluze? Asknicely.”
His knees dipped and he grabbed at the wall, his fingers digging into the marble for purchase. A few moreseconds…
“Finiscere,” I said, feeling the spell banish from the air. The Illusionist fell to the ground, taking deep, gasping breaths.
Now,thatgot people’s attention. From the right came two guards, glaring at me with their hands on the hilts of their swords.
“I don’t need a new tactic,Illusionist,” I spat down at him. “I’m doing just fine on my own.”
I turned my back on him and faced the converging guards. “I can see my way out,” I said with a mock bow, then grabbed a flute of red wine, drained the glass, and marched out the entrance doors.
11
Leo
The bartender slammed three glasses of ale on the table, sending the warm, golden liquid sloshing over the sides and pooling onto the wood. Horace, Chaz, and Lark all grabbed one.
“Drinking on the job?” I asked the latter as I leaned back in my chair, hood lowered over my head.
“It’s my last night of freedom,” Lark reminded me. Spirals of dark curls came loose from her tight bun. “You know how it will get when the Decemvirate starts tomorrow.”
“Yeah, Leo, let her have her fun,” Horace said, stroking his beard with interest, his beady eyes roaming over her rounded curves as she took a large drink of ale.
Setting the glass down, she pursed her lips at him. “My eyes are up here, Blondie.”
I hid a smirk. “Horace, I thought you said the guards had extra rounds now because of the tournament. Shouldn’t you be at the palace?”
“Not till tomorrow, technically.” He chuckled and took a sip, then held his glass out to Lark. “And the one you told me to keep an eye on? She’s feisty. You picked well.”
