“We should go limber up,” I say with relief.

Kalliarkos rises. “This run won’t be as easy. Dusty has already run seven Novice-level trials, and won one in the provinces. Gira—Giraffe is her Fives name—is a ranked Novice, with five victories, like me. She’s good.”

“So am I,” I retort.

He grins.

Tana assigns me to Trees again and Kalliarkos to Rivers. Gira, the tall woman, gets Pillars, and Dusty starts on Traps.

I chalk up at Trees. The conversation whirls in my head: His confiding manner. His dark eyes. He’s so easy to talk to. He listens. All these thoughts slow me down and make me stumble. I have to wall them off and focus.

The start bell sounds.

Anise taught us that when a court is changed quickly, it means the big things remain the same but subtle tricks have been introduced, easy-to-overlook details meant to catch you up. So it proves: on Trees they have shifted one set of posts closer together and removed the handholds to create what is called a “blind shaft.” I have to brace my back on one post and my feet on the other to work my way up. They’ve added an extra rope and beam to complicate Traps, but balance is easy for me. Pillars has a few shifted canvas walls. Rivers is exactly the same only they have greased all the roundels, which I am fortunate enough to notice when the sunlight glints off them. I take the crossing at a speed that is almost but never quite uncontrolled so my feet don’t press for long enough to slip.

I hit the resting platform for Rings at the same time as both Kalliarkos and Gira. I dodge between them and leap at the last possible moment, just before the first ring turns edge on. As I twist to squeeze through sideways my nose scrapes the wood. I jump again. At the sixth leap I throw in a spin and by the last I have enough momentum to launch myself into a tight somersault and still land perfectly.

When I swarm up the ladder to the victory tower Gira lets out a whoop from the base as Kalliarkos trots up behind her. From a post in Trees, Dusty shades his eyes as he spots me at the top.

I climb down.

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“That was splendid!” cries Kalliarkos.

Gira slaps me so hard on the shoulder that I stagger. “Hammer’s Curse, girl. You spun those Rings like a spider on a filament.”

I can’t stop grinning. “Nothing is better than this!”

Kalliarkos bumps me, shoulder to shoulder. “This is where you’re meant to be, Jes. Many successful adversaries support their families off their winnings.”

Gira glances between us but says nothing. I’m still floating on my victory but my smile fades as we reach the forecourt where Tana and Darios are waiting. Lord Thynos ambles up, looking at me in a way that makes me shiver. I’ve drawn too much notice on myself when I should have won in a less showy manner. For all that he pretends to treat Tana and Darios as equals, they give a dip with their chins and step back.

“Now I’m intrigued,” he says. “Tana, set up a new course. Run her against me, Inarsis, and Talon.”

Inarsis is the Commoner man somewhat older than my father whom I saw in the bathhouse. He comes up beside Thynos, chuckling. “The way she flew across those Rings gave me a turn. My old bones can’t match that.”

Only a man who knows he can beat me would make such a joke. He catches my eye and nods, and my courage falters.

Talon is the name of the silent Patron girl. The look she gives me is as friendly as an asp.

“You must want another cup of broth before you run again,” Kalliarkos says as he again nudges my shoulder so companionably that I reflexively thump his shoulder back.

“Go away, Kal.” Lord Thynos waves a hand in dismissal.

Kalliarkos’s chin comes up. Suddenly he looks a lot like a prince surprised that a man whose grandmother is not Princess Berenise feels free to order him around.

“Nephew, you may go.”

Age trumps royal blood. Kalliarkos retreats to the dining shelter, glancing several times over his shoulder. Thynos doesn’t need to give the order to anyone else. They clear off.

He is a good-looking man ten or twelve years older than I am. This year, as an Illustrious, he will run for the champion’s wreath at the King’s Trials at the Royal Fives Court.

He takes a step closer to me. “I’ve finally figured it out. You’re the brown girl, the one who lost on purpose to Kal. You can’t hide your flair. It’s striking and attractive.”

He doesn’t mean attractive as a hopeful lover would use the word. He means it as an adversary considering the skills of a competitor. Victory matters, but flair seduces the crowd.

He takes hold of my chin and turns my head to one side and then the other, gripping so hard that my jaw aches. “What in the hells does Gar want with you?”




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