I nodded to a girl standing nearby. She looked at Nero for permission, and when he nodded, she reached up and set the wheel spinning again with a small grunt. I watched the colors move, measured the slowing turn, and waited until the moment felt right.
“Green,” I called.
My knife landed firmly in the green section.
The crowd cheered again.
“You’ve met your match, Nero,” someone called. “I think she’s better than you are.”
“No, she isn’t,” Nero said, clearly affronted. “She wouldn’t have the nerve to do it with someone strapped in there.”
“Climb on up, and we will test that theory,” I said.
Nero blushed and didn’t move.
I reached into Baron’s coin purse and pulled out a fat gold coin. “A gold coin to anyone who’ll strap themselves in.”
The crowd went silent. Each townsperson glanced eagerly around, everyone wanting to see someone spin on the wheel and no one wanting to be the person who risked it. Several teenage boys shoved each other forward, but none of them stepped close enough to volunteer.
“I will.”
James walked up from the back of the crowd. I was slightly surprised to see him, though I shouldn’t have been. I knew he remained in the area between debriefing Baron and me, and of course he would need somewhere to stay in the village.
I grinned and flipped the coin to him. “Thank you, my good sir.”
The crowd watched with eager silence as I helped strap James into the contraption. He leaned close enough that only I could hear him. “Don’t you dare miss.”
I pulled sharply to tighten one of the leather straps. “Do I ever?”
He gave me a look that suggested this was not the moment to boast.
I backed away. “Spin him.”
The girl, who now looked terrified to be involved at all, reached up and set the wheel in motion again. It spun much more slowly with James’s weight on it, but still quickly enoughthat the throw would not be easy. The crowd held its breath. Even Nero stopped smirking and looked nervous. I watched the wheel decrease in speed then took a deep breath.
“Blue,” I called, and threw.
The thud of the knife was cut short as James let out a long, loud, piercing scream. Panic shot through me so suddenly that I forgot the crowd, Nero, and every scrap of pride I had. I rushed forward to stop the wheel, my stomach dropping so hard I felt sick. What had I done? How had I been so irresponsible and arrogant?
My hands trembled as I fumbled to remove the straps from James’s wrists. His body was shaking horribly, and the scream still rang in my ears. All of my insides threatened to emerge and panic made my vision narrow. I tore one strap loose and heard laughter behind me.
I jerked my head around, furious. What sort of inhumane brutes laughed at a stabbed man? Then my eyes darted over James’s body, searching for the knife handle, for torn fabric, for any sign that I had hit him… and saw nothing.
I paused in unfastening his other wrist strap and looked up at his face. He was laughing. His entire body shook with it, and the knife was embedded exactly where I had aimed it, in the blue wooden section between his left arm and leg.
For a second, relief left me so weak that I could hardly speak. My breath still came in choking, uneven gasps, and my hands had not stopped trembling.
“I hate you,” I told James, and punched his shoulder.
Nero was doubled over, laughing so hard he could hardly breathe.
“You were getting too conceited,” James told me, eyes from tears of laughter. “You deserved it, admit it.”
I frowned then turned the wheel so he was dangling upside down from his bound ankles. Blood rushed to his face at once.
“Hey,” he protested, while the crowd howled.
Every time James tried to curl upward to reach the straps around his ankles, I swatted his hands away.
