“You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“No, I’m embarrassing you,” said Jin, straightening. “There’s a difference.”

Alucard offered him a seat, but Jin declined, perching instead on the shoulder of Alucard’s own chair, light as a feather. “What have I missed?”

“Nothing, yet.”

Jin looked around. “Going to be a strange one.”

“Oh?”

“Air of mystery around it all this year.”

“Is that an element joke?”

“Hah,” said Jin, “I didn’t even think about that.”

“I thought you kept a list of wind jokes,” teased Alucard. “I certainly do, just for you. I’ve broken them down into chills, gales, steam….”

“Just like your sails,” jabbed Jin, hopping down from the chair. “So full of air. But I’m serious,” he said, leaning in. “I haven’t even seen half the competition. Hidden away for effect perhaps. And the pomp surrounding everything! I was at Faro three years back, and you know how much they like their gold, but it was a pauper’s haunt compared to this affair. I’m telling you, the air of spectacle’s run away with it. Blame the prince. Always had a flare for drama.”

“Says the man floating three inches off the ground.”

Lila looked down, and started slightly when she saw that Jinnar was, in fact, hovering. Not constantly, but every time he moved, he took a fraction too long to settle, as if gravity didn’t have the same hold on him as it did on everyone else. Or maybe, as if something else were lifting him up.

“Yes, well,” Jin said with a shrug, “I suppose I’ll fit in splendidly. As will you,” he added, flicking the silver feather on Alucard’s hat. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I should make the rounds and the welcomes. I’ll be back.”

And with that, he was gone. Lila turned to Alucard, bemused. “Is he always like that?”

“Jinnar? He’s always been a bit … enthusiastic. But don’t let his childish humor fool you. He is the best wind mage I’ve ever met.”

“He was levitating,” said Lila. She’d seen plenty of magicians doing magic. But Jinnar was magic.

“Jinnar belongs to a particular school of magic, one that believes not only in using an element, but in becoming one with it.” Alucard scratched his head. “It’s like when children are learning to play renna and they have to carry the ball with them everywhere, to get comfortable with it. Well, Jin never set the ball down.”

Lila watched the wind mage flit around the room, greeting Kisimyr and Losen, as well as the girl in blue. And then he stopped to perch on the edge of a couch, and began talking to a man she hadn’t noticed yet. Or rather, she had noticed him, but she’d taken him for the cast-off member of someone else’s entourage, dressed as he was in a simple black coat with an iridescent pin shaped like an S at his throat. He’d made his way through the gathering earlier, hugging the edges of the room and clutching a glass of white ale. The actions held more discomfort than stealth, and he’d eventually retreated to a couch to sip his drink in peace.

Now Lila squinted through the smoke and shadow-filled room as Jin shook his hand. The man’s skin was fair, his hair dark—darker than Lila’s—and shorter, but his bones were sharp. How tall is he? she wondered, sizing up the cut of his shoulders, the length of his arms. A touch of cool air brushed her cheek, and she blinked, realizing Jin had returned.

He was sitting again on the back of Alucard’s chair, having appeared without so much as a greeting.

“Well,” asked Alucard, tipping his head back, “is everyone here?”

“Nearly.” Jinnar pulled the competition roster from his pocket. “No sign of Brost. Or the Kamerov fellow. Or Zenisra.”

“Praise the saints,” muttered Alucard at this last name.

Jin chuckled. “You make more enemies than most make bedfellows.”

The sapphire in Alucard’s brow twinkled. “Oh, I make plenty of those, too.” He nodded at the man on the couch. “And the shadow?”

“Tall, dark, and quiet? Name’s Stasion Elsor. Nice enough fellow. Shy, I think.”

Stasion Elsor, thought Lila, turning the name over on her tongue.

“Or smart enough to keep his cards close to his chest.”

“Maybe,” said Jin. “Anyhow, he’s a first-timer, comes from Besa Nal, on the coast.”

“My man Stross hails from that region.”

“Yes, well, hopefully Stasion’s stage manner is stronger than his tavern one.”

“It’s not always about putting on a show,” chided Alucard.

Jin cackled. “You’re one to talk, Emery.” With that, he dismounted the chair, and blew away.

Alucard got to his feet. He looked at the drink in his hand, as if he wasn’t sure how it had gotten there. Then he finished it in a single swallow. “I suppose I better say my hellos,” he said, setting down the empty glass. “I’ll be back.”

Lila nodded absently, her attention already returning to the man on the couch. Only he wasn’t there anymore. She searched the room, eyes landing on the door just in time to see Stasion Elsor vanishing through it. Lila finished her own drink, and shoved herself up to her feet.

“Where are you going?” asked Stross.

She flashed him a sharp-edged smile and turned up the collar of her coat. “To find some trouble.”