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The crowd quiets as the chief attendant moves to the front. “General Xilu will now face the challenger from Thorn Valley. The victor will secure the honor of being our champion to rescue Duke Yuan’s daughter.”

As General Xilu swaggers forward, my fear spikes. I’m trying not to think of his brutal strength and skill but of how tired he must be, impatient for victory. As Jin says, I don’t have to be stronger, just faster… and I’ve been running most of my life.

Jin steps into the grove of trees, moving toward me. “Are you ready?”

No. But I nod.

“My people will retrieve your ring from the treasury today. I hope to have news soon.” He holds out a black mask. “Wear this.”

I slip it on, fastening it around my head. Holes are cut in the material allowing me to see and breathe, yet covering most of my face. I hate it, feeling trapped beneath a second layer of skin. My leather armor is the lightest I can get away with, yet even after wearing it for practice these past days, its weight still strains me. Beneath it, a long sash is wound around my waist as an additional tool.

Jin is looking at me, his brow furrowed. If I fail, he’ll lose his chance at securing the starfire. “Be careful. Don’t risk yourself unnecessarily. Try to goad the general to rashness,” he advises. “Don’t be afraid; I’m with you.”

But the truth is, once I’m on the tower, I’m alone. And only I can help myself.

Jin leaves shortly after. I draw a shaking breath, each moment stretching like an hour, yet going by too quickly. I should make my way forward… but can’t; I’m not that brave.

“Where is the challenger for Thorn Valley?” the chief attendant calls out.

General Xilu stands with his legs apart, arms folded. I force myself to move, leaving the safety of the trees, though my limbs feel frozen over.

Jin rises to his feet at the sight of me. “Our challenger approaches.”

“Your name?” General Xilu demands.

“Our challenger prefers to remain nameless,” Jin replies on my behalf to avoid the risk of another recognizing my voice—at least while the tournament can still be called off. It won’t matter once we’re on the tower. “They will fight in place of Lord Chao, who was attacked and grievously wounded here.” A harsh rebuke rings in his tone.

General Xilu scowls as he peers at me, trying to see beneath my mask. “Does your challenger not speak? Are they ashamed of their name?”

“The general must earn the privilege of my name through unmasking me.” I push my voice down to a low rasp.

“With pleasure, boy,” General Xilu snarls, straightening to his full height. “I’ll tear your face off too.”

His vicious condescension smothers my fear. I flick my gaze over the general’s muscular frame. “Size isn’t all that matters.”

The spectators laugh, the general’s eyes squeezed to slits of coal. He’s out for blood, but I wasn’t being rash. I want to tip the general over the edge… and he’s close.

“Do you know the rules of the challenge?” the chief attendant barks. As Prince Zixin’s loyal servant, he’d want the general to win.

I crane my neck to stare at the highest tier, my limbs stiffening. “Don’t fall?”

“For your own sake. The first contestant to retrieve the jade and return here”—the chief attendant points at the ground—“will be the winner. The only weapons permitted are these daggers, crafted of our finest iron.” He nods at the tray before him, the two blades glittering brightly.

As General Xilu and I each take a weapon, the chief attendant continues, “Should a contestant fall to the ground before retrieving the jade, they will be disqualified and the other declared the victor.”

“What are the other rules?” No killing, I will the chief attendant to say. No bloodshed.

“There are none.” The chief attendant’s smile is wide. “Use any other means necessary to retrieve the jade.”

General Xilu hands his sword to his attendant. He strips off his iron armor, another attendant slipping a leather one over him, similar to mine. His helmet remains, a wise decision to guard his head. He grins, all yellowing teeth and malice, as he jerks his chin toward the nets erected along the base. “It’s a steep drop and these nets won’t hold. It’s not too late to surrender.”

“Take your own advice,” I hurl back, yet my voice quivers. He’s toying with me, as I hoped to do with him—trying to inflict wounds before a step is taken.

He pats one of the poles. “These are as familiar to me as stairs. When I first joined the army, I trained daily on similar towers.”

It isn’t easy to smile, raising my chin. “Then it’s been a very long time since you’ve been on one.”

His mouth twists. “I’ll teach you some manners, boy. Give you the thrashing your mother should have long ago.”