“That is none of your concern.”
Bold words, but his eyes tell me he’s guessed the truth: that I have no idea. I’ve been trying to come up with a plan ever since my arrival here, but it is difficult to consider where I will go when I don’t even know where I am. Valtar offers neither criticism nor censure, however. He merely nods. “And why have you told me this?” he asks at length.
I draw a steadying breath. “Because I want your help.”
“My help?” He looks truly taken aback. “Escaping?”
“No,” I answer hastily. “I’ll manage that on my own. But I don’t want you taking any more risks in the forthcoming trials. No daring stunts, no racing headlong to the end, no putting your neck on the line. There’s no point in it, as I am not going to marry the winner anyway. So don’t let any wild ideas of competition and manly prowess drive you to overperform.”
He nods. Not necessarily an agreement, more an acknowledgment.
“Also,” I continue, “I don’t want any more of the champions to die.” Even as I speak, I see again that vision of Bryon’s brutal end. It was so quick and so violent, it doesn’t seem real. But it is real; he is dead. And I won’t have any more of them giving up their lives for an impossible dream. “I want you to help keep them alive.”
“So,” Valtar says slowly, “rather than compete, you want me to…protect my competitors?”
“Yes.”
“And what if I simply inform the king of your intention to escape?”
“You won’t.” I bite my lip. “Will you?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
I shrug. “Black-clad walking enigmas like yourself prefer to keep vital information close to the vest. Is that not true? In case it might prove advantageous later on. Besides,” I add with a small, tentative smile, “I think maybe we’re…friends.”
His scarred eyebrow lifts a fraction. “Friends?”
“Yes, well…” I let my gaze skitter away for a moment before returning to his. “We’refriendlyat the very least. That must count for something.”
He lapses into another of his long, considering silences. Then: “Yes. It must.”
“So, you won’t go telling the king then?”
“I will not.”
“And you will stop taking risks during the trials?”
“I will take only such risks as are necessary.”
Not quite the answer I’m looking for, but I let it slide. “You’ll keep the others alive?”
“Does that include Prince Taigan?”
My lip curls, but when I answer, it’s with absolute earnestness: “I don’t wantanyoneelse to die. Not for my sake.”
“Short of overt interference on my part, I cannot stop them from taking risks of their own.”
“But you’ll do your best, won’t you?”
He thinks on it. I watch a muscle in his jaw tick. Finally, he nods. It isn’t much, but I feel as though a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I reach out compulsively and grip his hand. Unfortunately, it’s the wounded one, and he curses softly. “Oh!” I gasp, trying to pull back. “I’m so sorry!”
But he moves quicker than thought, his other hand catching mine in a firm grip. “It is appropriate to shake on an agreement, is it not?”
I nod. The pressure of his fingers on mine is very warm. Not warm like dragon heat, just Valtar warm. It’s pleasant to stand there for a moment, simply letting him hold my hand. To know that I’m not as completely alone as I believed myself to be. I have an ally. I have, if not a friend, at least a cohort.
Perhaps I will survive this whole ordeal after all.
“Now,” says Valtar, “do you need my assistance getting back into your gown?”
