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The creature is beautiful, with golden, jewel-like eyes and scales that cast dancing rainbows. Esme is beautiful too. Rooted to the floor with her hands on the crystal, she may as well be a statue.

Then the guardians convulse and scream.

I wince, resisting the urge to cover my ears. I imagine the jarring dissonance is akin to what people rubbing the rims of a hundred crystal goblets simultaneously could create.

Esme gasps, staring at her hands as if they betrayed her. “They rejected me!”

Shouts echo down the corridors. Thudding footsteps follow right behind them.

My earth sense explodes with information. Dozens of guards race toward us. More guards pour out of the palace. We have maybe ten seconds before this courtyard becomes an archery range with guards using us as target practice. My heartbeat kicks up in anticipation. “Run. Now.”

We sprint down the corridor. Behind us, more shouts ring out, warning about thieves and intruders.

Vibrations in the stone inform me that guards are blocking the previous route we used. Pointing, I signal Esme to take the next left. Part of me fears that I’ll need to carry her like I did when we encountered the bandits, but while her eyes widen, she doesn’t slow, managing instead to hold herself together. She skids around the turn, then we veer right, barely keeping ahead of our pursuers.

The flagstones give way to grass, and after three more strides, we enter the cover of the tournament grounds.

At night, the grounds are a maze of canvas and rope. We weave between my competitors’ tents and past official pavilions with their banners hanging limp in the still air.

Between Esme’s Light Walking and my earth magic, we can travel silently no matter how fast we run. We reach our tent without being detected, and Esme ducks inside first. I follow, letting the flap fall closed behind us.

While listening for any signs of pursuit, we pant to catch our breath. Though it appears we’ve escaped scot-free, the tension in the air only increases.

I drag a hand down my face and through my stubble. We failed. That means tomorrow, I face the Onyx Knight. I stand a much better chance taking on all the palace guards at once.

Esme breaks first. “That was⁠—”

“A disaster.” I peek through the tent opening and check the grounds again. “A complete disaster.”

She sinks onto the edge of her bedroll, her face in her hands.

The guards might search for a while, but they never got a good look at us, and the Everhand remains safe. The only sign of tampering was the locks screaming. If I know palace guards, and I know hundreds of them, they’ll stop soon and go back to their stations, explaining it away as a false alarm. Doing anything else proves they screwed up by chasing nonexistent swamp gas.

I spin back toward Esme, letting the tent flap fall closed again.

She drops her hands from her face and watches me with defeated eyes, the corners of her mouth drooping tiredly. “You’ll have to fight the Onyx Knight tomorrow. It’s the only way now.”

No point in pretending. “Yes.”

She pales even more. “You’ll die.”

“Probably not.” I consider the rumors about him killing his opponents with a single strike. We haven’t seen him do so at this tournament yet. “Maybe not.”

Esme clambers to her feet. “Agnar⁠—”

I don’t want to hear whatever she was about to say. “As you said, it’s the only way. You know it. I know it. We tried the subtle approach. It failed. So now, we do this the hard way.”

She scoffs. “The hard way. Fighting a monster who’s been killing people for longer than you’ve been alive is the hard way.”

I shrug, aiming for casual so she won’t fret all night. “I’ve fought worse.”

“Have you?” Her voice cracks. “Have you really? Because from where I’m standing, the Onyx Knight is the worst thing I’ve seen. He's been killing people for longer than you’ve been alive. If you die, I’ll never forgive you.”

I almost laugh at the absurdity of that last statement. “I could never live with you angry at me.” If I’m going to die tomorrow, I may as well laugh tonight.

She buries her face in her hands again, as if I can’t see the tears dripping off her chin. Poor girl. It was her part that got messed up. I’m certain she’s blaming herself, but I don’t blame her. That could have happened to anyone, and she tried her best.

I tap the top of her head to lighten her mood. “I’ve literally fought the gods. I think I can manage one spooky knight.”