Ojka adjusted her balance on the balcony’s rail. She’d made it this far by a series of ice steps forged on the palace wall, but the building itself must have been warded against intrusion; the one and only time she’d tried to slip inside through a pair of upstairs doors, she’d been rebuffed, not loudly, or painfully, but forcefully. The spellwork was fresh, the magic strong.

The only way in appeared to be the front doors, but Holland had warned her not to make a scene.

She pulled on the tether in her mind, and felt him take hold of the rope.

I have found him. She didn’t bother explaining. She simply looked. She was the king’s eyes. What she saw, so would he. Shall I force him out?

No, came the king’s voice in her head. It hummed so beautifully in her bones. Kell is stronger than he looks. If you try to force him and fail, he will not come. He must come. Be patient.

Ojka sighed. Very well. But her mind was not at ease, and her king could tell. A soothing calm passed through her with his words, his will.

You are not only my eyes, he said. You are my hands, my mouth, my will. I trust you to behave as I say I would.

I will, she answered. And I will not fail.

III

“You look like hell.”

Alucard’s words rang through her head, the only thing he’d said that morning when she wished him luck.

“You say the sweetest things,” she’d grumbled before escaping into her own tent. But the truth was, Lila felt like hell. She hadn’t been able to find sleep in Elsor’s room, so she’d gone back to the Wandering Road, with its cramped quarters and familiar faces. But every time she closed her eyes, she was back in that damn crate, or on the balcony with Kell—in the end she’d spent most of the night staring up at the candlelight as it played across the ceiling, while Tav and Lenos snored (who knew where Vasry was) and Kell’s words played over and over in her head.

She closed her eyes, felt herself sway slightly.

“Master Elsor, are you well?”

She jerked back to attention. Ister was fitting the last of the armor plates on her leg.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, trying to focus on Alucard’s lessons.

Magic is a conversation.

Be an open door.

Let the waves through.

Right now, she felt like a rocky coastline.

She looked down at her wrist. The skin was already healing where the ropes had cut, but when she turned her hands over, her veins were dark. Not black, like the Dane twins, but not as light as they should be, either. Concern rippled through her, followed swiftly by annoyance.

She was fine.

She would be fine.

She’d come this far.

Delilah Bard was not a quitter.

Kell had beat the Veskan, Rul, by only two points, and lost to her by four. He was out of the running, but Lila could lose by a point and still advance. Besides, Alucard had already won his second match, securing his place in the final three alongside a magician named Tos-an-Mir, one of the famous Faroan twins. If Lila won, she’d finally get a chance to fight him. The prospect made her smile.

“What is that?” asked Ister, nodding down at the shard of pale stone in her hand. Lila had been rubbing it absently. Now she held it up to the tent’s light. If she squinted, she could almost see the edge of Astrid’s mouth, frozen in what could be a laugh, or a scream.

“A reminder,” said Lila, tucking the chipped piece of statue into the coat slung over a cushion. It was a touch morbid, perhaps, but it made Lila feel better, knowing that Astrid was gone, and would stay gone. If there was a kind of magic that could bring back an evil queen turned to stone, she hoped it required a full set of pieces. This way, she could be certain that one was missing.

“Of what?” asked Ister.

Lila took up the dagger hilts and slid them into her forearm plates. “That I’m stronger than my odds,” she said, striding out of the tent.

That I have crossed worlds, and saved cities.

She entered the stadium tunnel.

That I have defeated kings and queens.

She adjusted the helmet and strode out into the arena, awash in the cheers.

That I have survived impossible things.

Rul stood in the center of the floor, a towering shape.

That I am Delilah Bard …

She held out her spheres, her vision blurring for an instant before she let them go.

And I am unstoppable.

* * *

Kell stood on the balcony of his room, the gold ring on the rail between his hands, the sounds of the stadium reverberating through the metal.

The eastern arena floated just beside the palace, its ice dragons bobbing in the river around it, their bellies red. With the help of a looking scope, Kell could see down into the stadium, the two fighters like spots of white against the dark stone floor. Lila in her dark devil’s mask. Rul with the steel face of a canine, his own wild hair jutting out like a ruff. His pennant was a blue wolf against a white ground, but the crowd was awash of silver blades on black.

Hastra stood behind him in the balcony doors, and Staff by the ones in the bedroom.

“You know him, don’t you?” asked Hastra. “Stasion Elsor?”

“I’m not sure,” murmured Kell.

Far below, the arena cheered. The match had started.

Rul favored earth and fire, and the elements swirled around him. He’d brought a handle and hilt into the ring; the earth swirled around the handle, hardening into a rock shield, while the fire formed a curving sword. Lila’s own daggers came to life as they had the day before, one fire and the other ice. For an instant the two stood there, sizing each other up.