“Will you stay for a while?”
She leaned her head on his shoulder and watched the stars cross the sky until he fell asleep. And then she stayed a little bit longer just to pretend that the boy, who was going to leave to become the king of Akram, and the half-elven girl, who was going to escape to anywhere else, belonged together.
THIRTY-FOUR
IT WAS LESS than an hour before the next round of competition started. Javan followed Sajda out of his cell and into the stairwell that led to the arena. He was down to two allies in the arena. Nadim had been killed in the last combat round, and Gadi’s leg had been injured so badly, he was unable to compete.
Every prisoner Javan passed fell silent, but this time instead of enmity, he saw anger in their faces. At first he thought they were angry with him, but when Kali and Intizara joined him on the staircase between levels nine and eight, Kali said, “Have you heard about the warden’s treachery?”
Javan shook his head, nervous energy careening around inside him as if he’d swallowed lightning. What new threat was coming for him now?
“She announced to all of level five that any of them who killed you during combat today would immediately be released from Maqbara.” Kali’s voice was rough with anger. “We overheard several of them talking about it during breakfast.”
“Just level five?” Sajda asked, her quiet voice giving nothing away, but Javan knew what she was thinking. She’d told him the false prince had made that offer for any prisoner, not just the ones who were the most experienced and had the most points in the arena. He’d already prepared a strategy that kept Kali and Intizara at his back at all times.
Maybe by only offering the bounty to level five, she thought it would cause less of an uproar among the prisoners and be less likely to reach the ears of the bettors.
Maybe she was superbly confident in Hashim and his friends.
It didn’t matter. He had a strategy in place. He’d been praying all morning that it would work.
“Who’s next?” Intizara demanded, her eyes darting toward the bottom of the stairs. “What’s to stop the warden from using Hashim to kill anyone she pleases?”
“The whole prison is in an uproar,” Kali said. “She’s interfering with the rules of the tournament. None of us are safe.”
“None of you were safe to begin with,” Sajda grumbled. Kali and Intizara fell silent, giving each other uneasy looks.
“Don’t mind her,” Javan said. “She can’t help being overly optimistic about those she likes.”
“I don’t like them,” Sajda said as they reached the arena floor, where the small group of competitors was standing by the gate closest to the stalls.
Javan gave her the look he usually reserved for the moments when he wanted to goad her into sparring with him, and she sighed. “Fine. I like them a little. But only because they haven’t tried to kill you.”
They arrived at the arena to see Tarek put the final weapon in place and cover it with a black cloth. Once again, weapons were hidden so that each competitor had to gamble on where their favorites might lie.
Javan, Kali, and Intizara weren’t gambling. He knew exactly where each weapon was located. Before Maqbara, he would have felt dishonorable for having an advantage over the other competitors. Now, as he faced the remaining twenty-three combatants, many who were allied with Hashim and favored by the warden, he was grateful for any competitive edge he could find.
Tarek left the arena, grabbed a small satchel that hung on a hook beside the first stall, and moved to Javan’s group. Handing the satchel to Javan, he said, “Eat. You need your wits about you today, son.”
Javan’s stomach growled as he opened the bag and found an apple, a thick crust of bread with lentil spread, and three sugar dates. “Where did you find sugar dates?” he asked, his mouth watering. The last time he’d had these, he’d been walking through the outdoor market in Makan Almalik with his mother firmly holding his hand, her bright voice exclaiming over every pretty sash, jeweled headdress, and confectionery item she saw.
Grief slashed at him, a deep throb of pain that stole his breath for a moment. He kept his eyes on the food in front of him and waited for the ache to settle as Tarek said, “Did a favor for the cook. Figured you could use a treat after all you’ve been through.”
“Thank you.” He turned away from the others, took a bite of the apple, and sent a swift prayer to Yl’ Haliq that the hurt would subside so he could concentrate. Missing his mother had been part of the fabric of his life for years. It seemed unfair that the loss could still sneak up on him without warning. Especially when thinking of her absence made the injustice of being thrown in prison instead of welcomed home by his father feel like the scab on a wound he just couldn’t seem to leave alone.
“Are you all right?” Sajda was at his side, her voice quiet.
Was he all right? He was a prince trapped in a prison about to face terrifying creatures and lethal competitors for the amusement of the people he’d once belonged to; and if he survived, he was still going to be hunted by his enemies.
He picked up a sugar date, its sticky-sweet coating covering his fingertips.
“My mother used to give me these as treats when we’d go on outings together. I still miss her.”
She was silent, and he was suddenly, excruciatingly aware that her mother hadn’t taken her on outings for sugar dates and fancy sashes. Her mother had put her on an auction block and walked away.
He turned to her and offered the sugar date. “I’m sorry. My words were careless.”
She had her stone-cold exterior firmly in place, but her voice was kind as she said, “You don’t have to hesitate to share things with me. I’m glad your mother was good to you. Now hurry up and eat because your stomach needs to settle before you compete. I’m going to check on the beasts. You remember how to kill them? We’ve got everything you need with your weapons. You can’t make a single mistake today.”
“I remember.”
“Don’t die.”
“I won’t,” he said and prayed he could keep his promise.
He finished his meal and joined Kali and Intizara to go over their strategy—form a loose triangle at the edge of the arena, one to kill a creature, two to fend off other prisoners. They’d take turns on kills unless they were inundated by the monsters Sajda was releasing.
The list of monsters and their point values went up on the wall opposite the stalls as the audience arrived in a cloud of bright sashes, jeweled hands, and the scent of cinnamon, peppermint, and fresh air.
Javan paced, swinging his arms, and forcing himself to breathe evenly as the nervous, precompetition energy tumbled through him.
Fear out.
Courage in.
He glanced at the list of monsters and his chest tightened. He was going to need every last bit of courage he possessed.
CLAWFOOT BEETLE—10 POINTS
TWO-HEADED SERPENT—15 POINTS
GARMR—25 POINTS
REILIGARDA—50 POINTS