Page 14 of Crowning of the Sword

The beautiful water sprite was sitting opposite. She gave Ember a bright smile and Ember smiled tentatively back, wondering if that was the end of their initial mutual animosity. After all, if Cole was telling the truth and Lissa had just been a fling, then Lissa had no real reason to dislike Ember. Besides, Ember was human, and probably the least important one in the room. Definitely the least interesting, she thought, eyeing Broude’s wings with a certain covetous air. They were the most beautiful things she’d ever seen. Again, she wondered what Lily’s wings had looked like and again felt a deep pain for the girl.

“Ashe’s team is down there.” Cole gestured toward several others at the far end who were sending unfriendly looks down the table toward him. “I won’t introduce you. They’re all savages, really.”

Ashe was among them, dressed in the dark military style uniform she’d seen him in earlier, but he didn’t take any notice of her; his team was his sole focus. In contrast to the opulence of the room, and of the brightly dressed fae around him, he appeared sombre, grave, the dark shadow to their sunshine.

Ember leaned toward Cole and murmured, “And who is that at the end?”

She had seen him as soon as she’d entered the room, and after one glance, she’d looked away, not wanting to attract his attention. If Ashe was daunting, this … creature … was positively frightening. He was an older man, cowled and hooded in dark red robes. But it was his eyes that alarmed Ember the most. They looked much older than he was, with crepey lids and red pupils peering out from clouded irises. They were eyes that had seen too much pain and had enjoyed every moment. Behind him stood several other fae, also dressed in dark red, silent and foreboding.

Cole lowered his voice too, and an expression came over his face, one she’d never seen on Cole before, one of almost fearful respect. “That’s the Adjudicator and his jury. Do yourself a favour, would you, Ember? Stay out of his way.”

If even Cole was fearful of this fae, then now Ember was terrified. She scraped her chair back a little so that the pretty female fae next to her blocked the Adjudicator’s view and was careful not to turn in his direction at all, although she could feel his gaze occasionally pass over her, like an icy breeze through a broken window.

Silent servants poured wine and served tiny tasting meals in little bowls. Soft music played through the air. Every so often, a couple would leave the table and dance together, careless of anyone watching as they kissed and caressed, sending a hot flush to Ember’s cheeks. One of the male fae had unfastened his partner’s silky blouse and was stroking her bare breasts, making her sigh with a cat-like satisfaction. When the song finished, they returned to the table, she casually buttoning her top as if nothing untoward had happened, him with a dangerous glint in his eye that promised something untoward was definitely going to happen after dinner.

Cole noticed Ember watching, and she jumped as he slid a hand on her knee under the table. “Are you enjoying your meal?”

“Y-yes,” she replied, with a catch to her breath, as his hand found the side split in her dress and touched her bare skin. A delicious shiver worked through her as his hand slowly drifted up her leg and around to the tender inner thigh. He smiled at her, his darkening gaze focused on her lips, and gave a little growl of satisfaction, as if he knew exactly how much she liked his touch. His fingers trailed higher, and she couldn’t help opening her legs a little, welcoming him, and wondering what she would do if he unbuttoned her shirt like the other fae had done earlier, caressed her breasts in front of everyone, leaned over to kiss her nipples…

“You’d better be careful, Your Highness,” came a familiar smooth voice, interrupting Ember’s fevered train of thought, killing it dead. “You wouldn’t want to break your little toy.”

Ember’s hackles rose at that and she fixed Lissa with a hard look. “I’m tougher than I look.”

Cole gave a delighted chuckle, and he squeezed her knee in approval before his hand slid away altogether, leaving Ember feeling strangely cold.

Lissa held up her wineglass in a mock toast and said, “I hear rumours Dansa has been making overtures to the scyllas. What are the rules on bribery?”

Cole shrugged. “None. Dansa may promise what he wishes. It’s the follow-through he may find difficult, if he’s dead.”

He and Lissa turned to look up the table toward Ashe’s team, and one of them, a lithe fae with a greenish hue, turned and smiled, showing off pointed teeth.

“Ugh,” said Lissa. “He’s so obvious.”

What was obvious to her was much less so to Ember, and she sat quietly as the talk turned to tactics and strategy. To her surprise, the centaur, Swirl, after his initial aloof dismissal of her, turned out to be rather nice, and explained a few of the rules of the tournament to her.

“Some of it is like a type of relay, run on time. The losing team of each game has their time count against them in the next. It becomes harder and harder for the losing team to catch up, which gives a clear winner, you see?”

“Some of it is like a relay? What’s the other part?”

“A fight to the death,” said Swirl.

Ember gave him an assessing glance to check if he was joking, but his face was serious. “And if there are three games - air, water and earth, then I’m guessing you’re …”

She was about to say earth, but Swirl nodded gravely. “Air. Yes, I am as light as a feather, with a brain to match.” He cast a sideways look at Broude, who had been too busy tearing apart the meat on his plate to pay much attention.

“Huh?” Broude said, when he finally noticed Swirl smirking at him, making those nearby burst into delighted laughter.

As if their levity had alerted the Adjudicator, he rose to his feet. The music stilled and everyone in the room went quiet. Servants backed away from the table and arranged themselves along the wall, their foreheads pressed to the wooden panels as though they weren’t even worthy of looking at him. Belatedly, Ember replaced her fork on her plate and the chime of metal resonated in the silence.

The Adjudicator’s voice was a scratchy whisper, a desert wind through bones bleached white, and yet Ember didn’t have to strain to hear him. His voice was everywhere, resonating through the hall.

“The tournament is a reminder of the tragedy that can befall any of the kingdoms when the balance of power becomes corrupt and ungovernable. Let the fate of the Shields serve as a warning. The penance of containment shall forever be the legacy of the Swords. The games shall decide.”

His voice trailed away. There wasn’t a sound to be heard, as if everyone at the table was holding their breath, and then he announced, “Lives are sacrosanct until the tournament - here and on Earth.”

He gave Ashe and Cole a hard look. Ashe looked blandly back, as if he were completely unaware of the Adjudicator’s meaning, while Cole looked as though he was suppressing a smile.

“The tournament will commence in two months.”

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