Katia was in a rage now, and she whipped her sword back and forth, and back and forth, moving harder and faster than ever before. But Deah matched her move for move.
Finally, Katia made a mistake, the same one Devon had made. She got too close to the edge of the cold spring, and her foot slipped. Katia windmilled her free arm for balance and Deah took advantage, stepping up and slicing her blade across the back of Katia’s sword hand. That small motion pushed Katia over the edge and sent her toppling backward, straight into the water.
Deah stepped back.
Katia came up sputtering. She shoved her wet hair off her face and stared in disbelief at the blood welling up out of the shallow cut on her hand. Her fingers tightened around her sword, making more blood ooze out of the wound, and she scrambled out of the water and surged forward as though she was going to keep on attacking Deah, even though the match was over.
One of the officials quickly stepped in front of Katia, cutting her off, even as another official reached for Deah’s hand and held it up.
“Winner, Deah Draconi!” the official yelled.
The stadium erupted in cheers. Deah glanced up at the Draconi box, giving Seleste and Victor a happy wave. Then she went over to Katia and held out her hand for the other girl to shake, but Katia gave her a disgusted look, whirled around, and stormed out of the stadium.
Deah kept smiling and waving to the crowd. Beside me, Devon, Felix, Poppy, and Oscar were talking about the match, but I only had eyes for Katia.
I slipped away from the others and followed Katia over to the Volkov tent, which was deserted, since everyone had been gathered around the fence, watching the match. Katia slung her sword as hard as she could, and the weapon zipped through the air and stuck in one of the wooden poles holding up the tent, wobbling back and forth.
“Dammit!” she screamed.
Katia went on a rampage—knocking weapons off tables, dashing cups and plates to the ground, and slamming her fists into every single thing she could. I’d heard of ’roid rage before, but Katia was beyond even that. I moved away from the tent entrance, not wanting to embarrass her with the realization that someone was watching her epic meltdown.
Finally, after a couple of minutes, the noise and cursing stopped, and Katia stepped back outside. She saw me standing near the tent. She hesitated a moment, then strode over to me, looking out into the stadium. Deah was still there, smiling, waving, and signing autographs for some of the tourist rubes, as well as members of the other Families. Katia scowled, white-hot rage flaring in her hazel eyes.
“You fought a good match,” I said, trying to cheer her up. “The way you moved out there . . . it was incredible how fast you were.”
She gave me a disgusted look as though I’d just said the stupidest thing ever. “Not fast enough. Not good enough. I’m never fast enough, I’m never good enough. Not with her around.”
She glared at Deah a final time, then stomped off into the fairgrounds. I let her go. Yeah, it sucked to lose, especially to the same person over and over again, but that was life sometimes. Katia seemed to specifically blame Deah because she’d lost, but Deah had clearly been the better fighter. I might not like Deah, but she’d won fair and square, just as I had against Devon.
And there was something else about Katia that was bothering me—some small, nagging detail that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But the more I tried to figure it out, the deeper it sank into my brain.
After a couple of minutes, I gave up and moved on to the next thing—the final round of the Tournament of Blades. I wondered who would win, Deah or me. I looked down at the star carved into the center of my black blade and my star-shaped, sapphire ring.
I thought of my mom then, and I was determined that it was going to be me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I headed back over to the fence to hang out with Devon, Felix, Poppy, and Oscar before the final match. It took me much longer than it should have, since people stopped me every few feet to congratulate me and wish me luck in the final round. One tourist rube with a camera even asked if I would let her take my photo. I didn’t really want to, but I decided to be nice and pose for a picture, even though my smile was more of a snarl.
I had just moved away from the tourist and was blinking away the blinding camera flash when a hand settled on my shoulder.
I spun around to find Seleste Draconi staring at me with her bright, intense eyes—eyes that seemed to look right through me.
“You can’t win today, Serena,” she said in a dreamy voice. “You’re my sister, but you can’t win today.”
I couldn’t have been more shocked than if she’d zapped me with a bolt of lightning.
Sister? Seleste and my mom were sisters?