“Headache,” I offered, as if that explained everything. “Do you remember Derek Hartigan? One of Tristan’s friends?”
She folded her arms. “I don’t think so. I was never as close to Tristan as you were.” There was a hint of something sharp in her tone. Was it resentment? I couldn’t tell.
I just nodded along, not wanting to stir up any more negative feelings she might have had. “I didn’t remember him, either, but I guess he remembered me. And I’ve heard of the Hartigan family. I think I’ve read a book by one of them. Anyway, he’s apparently fighting in something called a Survival Match tonight. He said my mother used to compete in them?”
Sera shifted her footing, giving me a quizzical look. “Yeah, she used to love those when she was younger. You didn’t know that?”
I felt a momentary pang of shame. Or maybe that was just the headache again.
Probably shame.
I’d been close with my mother once. Before Tristan’s disappearance, we used to sit and read together. Sometimes, she’d tell me stories about our family history — she seemed equally familiar with the genealogy of both sides — and the legacy I’d need to live up to. At the time, I’d been proud to be descended from war heroes and famous politicians.
She’d scarcely said two words to me since she’d left. Not that I’d put in the effort either, though. That letter I’d written her about Keras was the only communication I’d sent her in at the last couple years. I wrote her more often right after she’d left, but I gave up after a while.
I told myself that it wasn’t my responsibility, that she was the adult, and that she was supposed to be the one taking care of me.
I was starting to realize the situation was more complex than that, but I still didn’t have the will to do anything about it. Not yet.
Getting Tristan back would be the first step toward repairing my family.
I shook my head, dismissing errant thoughts. “She might have mentioned it. Anyway, he invited me to watch, and I figured I’d see if you wanted to come along.”
“How uncharacteristically social of you. I should wear my best, since this is clearly a special occasion.”
“I’m pretty sure our school uniforms are the most formal things we have here.”
“I said best, Corin, not most formal.” Sera gave me the kind of smirk that said she was plotting something. I couldn’t imagine how she hoped to embarrass me with what she was going to wear, but I was sure she’d manage it if I didn’t put a stop to this now.
I held my hands up in surrender. “Normal clothes will be just fine.”
Sera raised a hand to her lips, eyes turning upward in thought. “I suppose, but what if—”
“Normal, Sera. We’re going to look perfectly normal.”
She sighed, folding her hands in front of her. “Fine, fine. You always spoil my fun. I suppose I’ll come and keep you company, since you’re clearly ailing right now and need my support.”
I nodded, sincerely grateful. “Let’s go find this place.”
***
Sera insisted on arriving significantly early, but we managed to get lost long enough that we only arrived slightly early.
Esslemont Arena didn’t look like what I expected. It wasn’t an ancient-style coliseum or sports arena. Instead, it looked a bit more like a vast opera house, with expensive décor and expansive interior.
At the ticket sales counter, I mentioned we were there to see one of the combatants. They sent someone to inform Derek, and he arrived a few minutes later.
“Corin, you made it! And who is this lovely lass? Your lady love, perchance?” He gave me a knowing look. I returned one of existential horror.
“...uh, no. She’s family. Anyway, I know you mentioned you could get me in, but you didn’t say anything about two people, sorry. I can buy us tickets, I just wanted to let you know I’m here.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense, your family is always welcome. I’m sure I can get you both into an excellent box...but I might have a better offer.”
“What sort of better offer?” Sera asked.
Derek glanced at her, then back at me. “How would you like to try fighting in there?”
I blinked. “I’ve never even seen one of these matches. I have no idea what it entails.”
“It’s not that bad, Corin.” Sera nudged me. “You should do it. Assuming he’d get a cut of any winnings?”
“Of course, of course.” Derek looked me up and down. “You already look well-equipped. You’d be doing me a tremendous favor. My partner dropped out at the last minute, you see, and I’m desperate for someone to fill his slot. I can handle the fighting on my own, for the most part... but I’m signed up for pairs, and they won’t let me in without a partner.”
Ah. Now that explained a great deal.
“I’m still not sure I’d be the best person to bring in there, although I truly appreciate the offer. My attunement isn’t really made for direct combat, but...”
“I’ll do it,” Sera interjected.
She turned around, pulling up her shirt to reveal her Summoner Attunement mark on her back.
That wasn’t strictly a scandalous action — she wasn’t showing much skin — but I was a little surprised and embarrassed to see it. Not because of the location, but because I’d assumed that her attunement was on her right hand, underneath the glove she always wore.
In retrospect, the fact that she always used incantations for her spells was a pretty big indication that her attunement mark was over her lungs. That was characteristic of their style.
“Well, well. You’re a Summoner, Miss Cadence? I think that would complement me quite well...in the arena, of course. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced yet. Derek Hartigan.” He extended a hand. She slipped her glove back into place and reached to shake his hand. He bowed and kissed it instead.
Seriously?
I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t help myself. For some people, kissing someone’s hand might have been an old fashioned greeting, but this guy just came across as theatrical.