“Miss Bard, what trouble have you gotten into now?” Before she could answer, he went on, “But that isn’t the right question, is it? Judging by your appearance, the right question would be, where is Master Elsor?”
Lila cracked a smile. “He’s alive and well,” she said. “Well, he’s alive. Or at least he was, the last time I checked.” The priest let out a short exhale. “He’s fine, Master Tieren. But he won’t be able to make the Essen Tasch, so I’ll be filling in.”
There was another brief sigh, heavy with disapproval.
“You’re the one who encouraged me,” challenged Lila.
“I told you to tend your waking power, not cheat your way into an international tournament.”
“You told me that I had magic in me. Now you don’t think I have what it takes?”
“I don’t know what you have, Lila. And neither do you. And while I’m glad to hear that your stay in our world has so far been fruitful, what you need is time and practice and a good deal of discipline.”
“Have a little faith, Master Tieren. Some people believe that necessity is the key to flourishing.”
“Those people are fools. And you have a dangerous disregard for your own life, and the lives of others.”
“So I’ve been told.” She cheated another step back. She was in the doorway now. “Are you going to try to stop me?”
He shot her a hard blue look. “Could I?”
“You could try. Arrest me. Expose me. We can make a show of it. But I don’t think that’s what you want. The real Stasion Elsor is on his way to Delonar, and won’t be back in time to compete. Besides, this tournament, it’s important, isn’t it?” She drew a finger down the doorframe. “For diplomatic relations. There are people here from Vesk and Faro. What do you think they’d do if they knew where I really came from? What would that say about the doors between worlds? What would that say about me? It gets messy rather fast, doesn’t it, Master Tieren? But more than that, I think you’re curious to see what a Grey London girl can do.”
Tieren fixed her with his gaze. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re too sharp for your own good?”
“Too sharp. Too loud. Too reckless. I’ve heard it all. It’s a wonder I’m still alive.”
“Indeed.”
Lila’s hand fell from the door. “Don’t tell Kell.”
“Oh, trust me, child, that’s the last thing I’ll do. When you get caught, I plan on feigning ignorance about all of this.” He lowered his voice, and added, mostly to himself, “This tournament will be the death of me.” And then he cleared his throat. “Does he know you’re here?”
Lila bit her lip. “Not yet.”
“Do you plan to tell him?”
Lila looked to the Rose Hall beyond the priest. She did, didn’t she? So what was stopping her? The uncertainty? So long as she knew and he didn’t, she was in control. The moment he found out, the balance would shift. Besides, if Kell found out she was competing—if he found out what she’d done to compete—she’d never see the inside of an arena. Hell, she’d probably never see anything again but the inside of a cell, and even if she wasn’t arrested, she’d certainly never hear the end of it.
She stepped out onto the landing, Tieren in her wake.
“How are they?” she asked, looking out at the city.
“The princes? They seem well enough. And yet …” Tieren sounded genuinely concerned.
“What is it?” she prompted.
“Things have not been the same since the Black Night. Prince Rhy is himself, and yet he isn’t. He takes to the streets less often, and garners more trouble when he does.”
“And Kell?”
Tieren hesitated. “Some think him responsible for the shadow that crossed our city.”
“That’s not fair,” snapped Lila. “We saved the city.”
Tieren gave a shrug as if to say, such is the nature of fear and doubt. They breed too easily. Kell and Rhy had seemed happy on that balcony, but she could see it, the fraying edges of the disguise. The darkness just beyond.
“You better go,” said the Aven Essen. “Tomorrow will be … well, it will be something.”
“Will you cheer for me?” she asked, forcing herself to keep her voice light.
“I’ll pray you don’t get yourself killed.”
Lila smirked and started down the steps. She was halfway to the street when she heard someone say, “Wait.”
But it wasn’t Tieren. The voice was younger, one she hadn’t heard in four months. Sharp and low, with a touch of strain, as if he were out of breath, or holding back.
Kell.
She hesitated on the stairs, head bowed, fingers aching where they gripped the helmet. She was about to turn around, but he spoke again, calling a name. It wasn’t hers.
“Tieren,” said Kell. “Please wait.”
Lila swallowed, her back to the head priest and the black-eyed prince.
It took all of her strength to start walking again.
And when she did, she didn’t look back.
*
“What is it, Master Kell?” asked Tieren.