Page 78 of Bloodguard

Her eyes are bright and hopeful, her smile tremulous.

She tugs the hood of my cloak down, covering the top half of my face completely. “It’s more dangerous for you than for me.”

I debate reminding her that there is no escaping the danger ahead. I need to become a Bloodguard. She needs to become queen. Instead, I say, “It’s fine. It’ll be dark soon.”

“This way,” she whispers.

Her smooth hand wraps around mine, and then she’s tugging me ahead, through the steep, upward-sloping alley on the north side of the city, closer to the castle.

Maeve continues to keep her head down, and I do as well. She leads us through a small gate and into a garden, where vines of starberries the size and color of ripe plums twine along the dilapidated posts of a graying fence that’s one strong gust of wind away from falling apart.

Maeve kneels in front of the fence and motions me over. I steal another glance behind me before closing the gate and falling to one knee beside her.

I peer out and down to possibly the very best view of the main street. A fairy with light-green skin zings from side to side above the crowd, her shimmering wings fluttering with the escalating frenzy of the stragglers trying to find a good view.

“Sweet bread, fresh sweet bread!” she yells. Her accent, faded from her years in Arrow, reminds me of Sullivan. Her homeland must be Witoria. I make a fist when that familiar sense of grief threatens to pull me in. He should still be here, strategizing with me to take these evil games down. But he’s not. I’ll need to figure out things on my own in order to prevail the next time my feet press into that filthy sand in the arena.

Maeve rests her head on my shoulder, and as naturally as I blink, my anxiety fades. I curve an arm around her, relaxing my clenching fist, and sweep a kiss along the top of her head. With her, loneliness fades and the grief lessens.

“Ale,” the light voices of sprites carrying mugs call out. They zip down the street opposite and then back, their strength far surpassing their tiny bodies. “Some ale to enjoy during the parade,” they say in unison.

We’re high enough to easily see everything through the wide slats in the fence. But it’s almost impossible for anyone to see us, even without the camouflage the berries and vines provide. Beings from all walks of life take up every inch of space along the sidewalks and rooftops below. Given the garden rests almost at the peak of this hill, we’re well above the winged sprites flying below.

I have a good view of what’s coming, and I’m fairly comfortable. There’s just one last thing I missed. Maeve squeaks as I yank her into my lap, her back resting against my chest. I tug her earlobe with my teeth. “Shh,” I say. “The show’s about to begin.”

Her back bounces against me when she laughs, and while I can’t see her, I can picture her smile.

“How in Old Erth did you ever find this place?” I ask.

Maeve angles her neck so I can see her face, but she’s no longer smiling. “The house with the white door used to be Neela’s home when she was little. Her family couldn’t afford it, so they lost it. She used to bring Giselle and me here as children. I think she missed living here, but I also think she wanted to show us how easy it is to gain and lose in Arrow.”

I nod.

Many fortunes are made—and lost—in the arena.

Maeve motions around. “Father built this garden for her in honor of her family. It was something her mother always wanted. And he purchased her home so that she’d never lose it again.” Tears find their way into Maeve’s voice. But like always, she forces them away. “As queen, I’ll make sure everyone can have a home.” She turns to see my expression. “You think I’m foolish, don’t you?”

“No.” Optimistic, perhaps, but never foolish.

“There are ways to create opportunities. It isn’t simple, but itispossible. Investing in our communities benefits all of Arrow.” She waves a hand, and I sense her frustration. “I’ve shown Vitor the programs I want to implement. When I’m queen, I won’t have to ask or plead to initiate my plans.” She takes a deep breath. “I won’t have to try and convince my peers to do the right thing.”

I only nod. She has ideals and hope, and though I suspect she recognizes she won’t always win and her plans won’t always yield the results she seeks, Maeve will not give up the fight. Of that much, I’m certain.

When those dreadful drums begin, I clutch her hand harder than I intend.

“Leith?”

“Sorry,” I mumble.

She pats my hand. “As queen, I’ll end these games.”

She felt my tension, and again she eased it.

Cheers erupt along the winding road, closest to the edge of town, and they grow as the procession commences.

The celebration of the phoenix has begun.

The purples and blues of twilight have barely begun to crawl across the horizon when the first eruption of magic paints the sky in a mix of green, gold, orange, and red. Oh, what lengths Vitor and his minions must have gone through to put on this farce of a show.

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