“If I go down, you take this.” He held up a beautiful red sash wrapped around a square of folded parchment. “I’ll wear it under my tunic, next to my heart. Get it to the king. You have the freedom to go up the stairs. You can reach him and give it to him. Tell him I’m his son, and I fulfilled my mother’s muqaddas tus’el.”
“Why don’t I just do that before the competition starts?” she asked. “Then you won’t have to fight at all.”
“Maybe you can. It depends on if the impostor is with him. If he is, I doubt he’ll let anyone get near the king while I’m alive. He has too much to lose. But if I’m dead, or I’ve lost and can’t have an audience with the king, then he might let down his guard.”
“Or I could just smash through his guard, give this to the king, and throw the impostor into the arena.” The rage within her blazed at the thought of hurting the person who’d taken so much from Javan.
“And be revealed as a dark elf? Be accused of killing the prince? The king would never look at what you have in your hands if you committed violence to get it to him.”
“Fine. Now, are you ready to go over the creatures again?”
“We’ve gone over them for days, Sajda. I know them. I know how to kill them. I’m ready to fight. What I’m not ready for is leaving you behind, even for a minute.” The misery on his face had her moving across the cushion that separated them until she could wrap her arms around him and lean her head against his chest.
She didn’t want to be left either. Not for a minute.
But he’d come back.
She’d seen the truth in his heart.
He’d come back because he loved her.
She loved him too—a terrifying, exhilarating revelation she hadn’t found the courage to put into words for him yet.
She had never said “I love you” to anyone. And even though it was true—she loved Javan fiercely and absolutely—saying it felt like dropping the last tiny defense she had. It was standing in front of a windstorm, arms wide open, with nothing to anchor her to the ground. It was jumping from a mountain believing that gravity couldn’t touch her.
It was thrilling. Comforting. Terrifying.
And so she held him close, her magic humming along her skin and into his, and hoped he understood the things she didn’t quite know how to say.
“I love you,” he said softly.
She tipped her head up and brought his face to hers. Pressing her lips to his, she tried to memorize the way his chest rose and fell with every breath. The way his heart beat steadily beneath her hand while his mouth moved gently against hers. Warmth swirled through her, tangling with her magic until she wanted to send it into him and read his heart again. See his truth so she could hold it close after he was gone.
When she pulled away, he tried to follow, but she pressed him back into the couch. “I have to pull the weapons for tomorrow and make sure everything is sharpened and cleaned. You can’t help with that. Prisoners aren’t allowed to touch any of them outside the arena. The warden already checks up on me often when I’m working with the weapons to make sure I don’t steal any for my own use. If you were with me, she’d have reason to punish you badly enough to make sure you’d lose the competition.”
He stood when she did and wrapped his arms around her once more. “No matter what happens tomorrow, I don’t regret being here, Sajda. I love you.”
She leaned into him, and when the answering words lingered on her tongue, she opened her mouth; but the thread that held her together shivered and frayed, and the words dissolved. She left him there and hurried down to the weapons closet. She was focused on thinking through the weapons’ layout she’d drawn up the day before—short swords in the center where Javan could easily find them. Bow and arrow for him on a hook to the west, far away from the gate to give him a chance to aim at the creatures she’d be sending into the arena. Spear on the opposite wall—
“Well, well, if it isn’t the warden’s little monster.” Hashim smiled at her outside the door of the weapons closet, and she pulled up short. A quick glance around confirmed that they were alone in the corridor.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, resting her hand on the wall beside her so she could pull the cold indifference of the stone into herself.
His smile turned vicious. “I finally figured it out. The way the warden calls you monster. The iron cuffs with runes carved in them.” He gestured toward her wrists while everything inside her went still.
“Get out of my way. I have work to do.” Her tone was as hard as the floor beneath her boots.
“I don’t think so.” He leaned against the closet door and tapped a thick, meaty finger against his lips. “It’s so rare to catch you without your aristocratic guard dog that I think I’ll stay and chat.”
“Then I won’t stick around to listen.”
She turned to go but froze as he said, “Elf or fae?”
Magic screamed through her, a blazing heat in her veins, and her wrists ached as the runes glowed. Slowly she turned to face him. “Excuse me?”
“Are you a dark elf or a fae?”
“If I was either one, you’d be in trouble, wouldn’t you?” She bared her teeth at him.
His eyes narrowed. “I felt your magic. Last competition, when you put grave dirt on me. You looked angry with me, and then there was this buzzing in my chest right where our skin touched. When you removed your hand, you’d left a handprint burned into my skin. See?” He pulled his tunic aside, and Sajda’s mouth went dry as she saw the raised pink scar of her hand in the center of his chest.
When she said nothing, he sighed. “I guess it doesn’t really matter which you are. My bet is elf because of how pale your skin is, but either way, I know.”
Magic sliced at her, and she moved closer to him. He lifted his other hand, and she stopped as she saw the thick iron chain he held.
“Where did you get that?” she asked.
“Borrowed it from the last sparring session. No one noticed that I’d taken it from the arena. Guess you’re still distracted by the old man’s death.”
She raised her hands, runes glowing, magic coiling in her palms. “I don’t need these cuffs removed to hurt you, Hashim.”
“I know. But I’m betting if I wrap you in this chain, it will be very difficult to use any of that magic against me. This is a lot of iron.” He hefted the chain.
“And I’m betting I can hurt you before you do that.”
He shrugged. “Maybe, but I’m not alone.”
She turned and found three of his friends closing in slowly behind her, each of them carrying an iron chain.
“You didn’t take four chains from the arena, Hashim.”
“No, I didn’t. I had a little help unlocking the weapons closet.”
“The warden.” Her breath came in quick bursts, and anger warred with panic.
The warden couldn’t harm Javan directly without starting a fire of rumor and anger with her wealthiest bettors. But she could get to Javan by letting Hashim get to Sajda.