I tried to organize my thoughts.

The rings were rigged.

They placed a warrior fierce enough in the center so that no one would question when he won repeatedly, but he was using magic to predict what would happen. The regular attendees all knew it—it was clear now who was involved by the way they’d lined the back walls, relaxed with drinks in hand, not a care in the fated realm aside from waiting for their winnings.

Was there something in the drinks to stop other Starsearchers from picking up on what the fighter could read? It was possible. Illegal, but possible. Stifle their magic so they were none the wiser.

“Vale!” a voice I recognized shouted, and it was honey over my aching mind. Sweet and warm and comforting, but it took me a moment to place it beyond that bone-deep level of rightness.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” he growled.

Concern. Always concern, even when he tried to hide it. That was how I knew it was Cypherion. My warrior.

“I didn’t do anything,” Harlen argued. “She got weak and sick and asked me to bring her somewhere.”

A hand brushed across my forehead; Cypherion’s voice was soft now. “Stargirl,” he said, and I loved that he was using that name again. “Is it the sessions? Whatever’s in the air?”

I nodded, squeezing my eyes tighter. I couldn’t let the reading take over. But those voices pressed against my mind again, tendrils of starfire begging to show me all its secrets. My chest was full—it was hard to draw breath.

“Give her space,” Harlen started.

But Cypherion whirled on him. “Who the fuck are you anyway?”

“Me? Who are you? You’re not a Starsearcher, that’s for damn sure, no matter what clothes you wear.”

My disguise for him was not as good as I thought. Pity.

A swarm of stars swirled behind my eyes, luring me in.

“It doesn’t matter who I am,” Cypherion spat, and all I could focus on was the rough tone of his voice. He really thinks that. He truly thinks he does not matter. My thoughts were jumbled—I was forgetting what was important right now beyond remembering that.

I blinked against my shattering vision, wanting to tell him he was wrong.

“You’re right, it doesn’t,” Harlen spat. No, my mind echoed. “I’m her best friend. Or,” he stuttered, “or I was.”

Regret and defense twisted his words.

“Not anymore,” Cypherion argued. “Make yourself useful and get her water.”

That tinkling sound again. Beads. The curtain leading to the back room. That piece of understanding about where I was calmed my racing breath.

“Cypherion,” I exhaled, finally stealing back control of my muscles enough to wrap my hand around his wrist. He hadn’t moved from cradling my head, and I pried my eyes open to find him kneeling beside me. The shadows were too dim and the incense too thick for me to properly see his face.

“You’re here?”

“I’m here.” It was relief deepening his voice, tangled with fear. “I’m here, Stargirl.”

Strong arms swept beneath my legs and back, and I was cradled against a warm, bare chest. It was gentler than when I’d been moved before.

“Did you win?” I forced out to distract myself from the swarm of incense again. The once-alluring scents tangled around me, coaxing me to succumb to the pressure in my chest and head.

Cypherion huffed a laugh. “I sure did, Stargirl. Promised you I would.” A shiver shot down my body, uncontrollable and violent. “Fight it,” he whispered. “Fight it off, Vale, and we’ll get out of here. I’ll get you out of here. Just stay with me.”

He started to stand, but we couldn’t?—

“We need,” I gasped. “We need the reading. You won it.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll come back for it.” I could practically hear the grinding of his jaw.