Page 49 of Deadly Rival

“Silence!” Skeletor again. “Initiates only speak when addressed in a council meeting.”

Kendrick snaps, “They’re right, and you well know it. He’s only had his Ward for two days.”

“Well then—” Skeletor gets to his feet. “—let's allow the young idiot some grace, shallwe? Ten days.”

The three who want me dead mutter and nod. They don't think I can do it.

Skeletor formalizes it. “I call a motion. Red for bringing the initiation forward to ten days’ time. He succeeds, we go to war. He fails, he goes to Randall Calder in a box.”

Twenty

Sebastian

Ten days? Ten fuckingdays? Even Gabriel had fourteen, and Eve is the nicest person on the planet. I’d been worried about training Ophelia in a month, given our history and her background. But ten days? I might as well chop my own head off and send it to Randall Calder wrapped up like a Christmas present.

Which is exactly what Skeletor wants. Did he and the others plan this beforehand? A way to back Kendrick into a corner? He can veto this vote if my new bestie votes with him, but what then? The vote to go to war right away has already failed. And although I don’t want to admit it, these people have a point.

The Calders can hurt a lot of people in a month. And every single thing they do will be another knife in my gut. Another stone on my conscience.

Ten days. I’m not Jacob, with his years of experience, but I’m good at getting under people’s skin. I’ve spent years making people believe what I want them to. Ophelia needs to believe, with every fiber of her being, that she should behave at the ceremony.

Ten days. If I can do it, then maybe no one else will get hurt by my quest for revenge.

Kendrick reaches for his stone. Before he has the chance to flip it to white, I say, “I can do it.”

This time, no one berates me for speaking. Jacob frowns, but Kendrick studies me, lips tight, as I push on. “I can do it, sir. This makes sense. I don’t want to cause any more damage than I already have.”

I turn to the four who want me dead. “And when Ophelia Calder kneels and kisses my hand, I expect all of you to clap.”

The poison dwarf snorts. “If she does, I’ll kneel and kiss your fucking hand myself.”

“Enough!”

Kendrick’s raised voice is enough to quiet the room. It’s hard to judge his expression. His face is still tight, but there’s something in the way he’s looking at me that might just indicate respect. Or maybe I’m imagining it and he still thinks I’m an idiot.

He picks up his stone. “If you believe you can do it, Sebastian, I won’t stand in your way. Three for red.”

The thud of his stone is followed by five more thuds. A sea of red stares back at me as Kendrick lifts his hammer. “Motion carried.”

He brings it down with a crack.

My four enemies exchange smug glances as Kendrick speaks again. This time, his voice crackles with authority. “And I’m setting a seal on this meeting. Nothing discussed here is to leave these walls. It’s absolutely vital the girl doesn’t learn of this, and if she does, I’ll know one of you—” He glares at each councilman in turn. “— is a traitor. And you’re all well aware of what happens to traitors. Meeting dismissed.”

Their faces sober instantly, and my curiosity kicks into overdrive. What do we do with traitors? Boil them in oil? Stake them out in the sun, covered in honey, for ants to eat? Not that we have those sorts of ants here. Do we? Maybe we’d import them from Australia or somewhere like that.

“Sebastian.” Kendrick’s voice makes me jump yet again, and the poison dwarf notices. He shoots a smirk at me. Screw him. I really need to find out who the hell he is and what I’ve done to piss him off. “I’ll see you and Jacob in my office.”

***

Kendrick’s office is almost soothing after the nightmarish meeting, and I accept the drink he pours me with great relief. Jacob shifts on a spindly chair, and it lets out an ominous creak. If it breaks and sends him sprawling, it’ll almost be funny enough to make up for all the stress. To my great disappointment, though, it holds.

Kendrick wastes no time. “That went as well as could be expected, I suppose. It worked in your favor that Andrews despises Brant and Olwani. Once they opened their mouths, he would have voted against them no matter what. He also loves a fight, though you wouldn’t think it to look at him.”

Andrews must be my white knight. My hero in sensible spectacles.

“But all that aside, you have ten days. How do you intend to make it count? I can help you adjust your training plan for the reduced time you have. Do you have it to hand?”

I don’t, because it doesn’t exist. A familiar feeling unfurls in the pit of my stomach, and my body tenses. Angry, frustrated shame at my own uselessness. I’m back, standing at the teacher'sdesk, trying to explain why I forgot my homework for the third time that week. That I spent half the class jotting ideas for something totally unrelated to the lesson because I just HAD to.

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