Page 9 of Surfaces
“Tell them that when they signed up, they bound themselves to compete until the end. They’re welcome to lose the next round, but until then, they’ll suck it up. I’d assign a set of trustworthy guards to them though, so they don’t go blasting vitriol about you to the crowd.”
A brittle chuckle left my throat that felt as sharp and broken as glass. I felt no real humor, only a dull sadness that accompanied my thought. I should have left well enough alone. I should have gone back with Bloss instead of stubbornly insisting that I claim my birthright.Idiot, Avia. Total idiot.
“Don’t,” Felipe said, swimming closer and raising his free hand. He stopped his gesture in mid-motion, somewhere between the signal to halt and a reach to touch my shoulder. Tiny rivulets of water traveled from his body to mine and I felt them caress my skin.
I found myself longing for his touch. He’d hugged me mere hours ago. But that was in a moment of dark chaos; now I watched his eyes as he fought to keep the wall of propriety firmly in place because he wanted to say more but knew his place. Part of me wanted him to vault over that wall, but another part knew he couldn’t. He lowered his hand slowly, let it drop to his side.
“Don’t what?” I asked.
His gaze was steady as he responded, “We aren’t better off without you. We’ve never had a queen actually interested in listening before. Nor one who thought about others’ wishes.”
“Definitely not one so completely ignorant.”
“Definitely not one who’d dig through the rubble to save others,” he countered. “I can put these bastards off for tonight, let you wait to deal with them.”
The offer was kind but while my bones were heavy and my head ached—begging me to sleep, I still had more to do. These four competitors were nothing compared to the man I planned to confront after them. I shook my head. “Thank you but no. Am I covered enough? Or can you still see the results of the spell?”
“You’re hidden,” Felipe replied, “so long as they stay back. And your face is nearly normal. But … sometimes a bit of a scare can be a good thing.” His scarred eyebrow rose, giving me pause. Then, he quickly flipped around and swam for the door, opening it and gesturing with a gracious sweep of his arm so that I could exit my room.
“Okay then. I think I’m ready to face some men who hate me.”
“Idiots. You mean idiots,” he corrected.
A small smile lit my lips, and I gently tugged my cloak close. “Idiots.” I took a step toward the multicolored coral hallway before pausing and looking back at him. “Felipe, can you send over one of the castle mages who worked on the contracts? I’m sure both the contestants and I would appreciate an explanation of the consequences of their withdrawal. Hopefully one is still awake.”
He nodded but gestured to Ugo, who swam off to complete the errand, leaving Felipe to guard me.
“Thank you.”
“Of course. Anything you need.”
I stared at him recklessly for a moment, wishing there was an undertone to that statement, my chest buzzing almost as if I could feel one. Hope was an evil witch that way. She cast her spell and left you with daydreams of things that could never be.
3
I bracedmyself for confrontation as I walked into a small meeting room containing table made from a slab of travertine precariously balanced on some wooden posts. Three mismatched wooden chairs scavenged from shipwrecks surrounded it.
It was brighter than most of the rooms in the mayor’s house with at least three lanterns bobbing near the ceiling.
I was grateful they weren’t along the walls, or my face would have been instantly lit. In their current position though, they helped my hood cast a lovely shadow, hiding whatever remained of the x-ray fish spell.
I stopped short just inside the door because I’d expected to see men I’d hardly talked to, men I didn’t really know. And that’s exactly what I seemed to find: four men crowded behind the table, all standing uncomfortably as they waited, none confident enough to sit. Two tall, golden-skinned sirens stood at the front. I thought I detected a squi-shifter’s elongated forehead as the third man. The final man was tucked too far behind the others for me to see more than an arm.
When I stepped through the doorway, they bowed as protocol dictated. But that’s when I saw a tuft of red hair from the man at the back of the bunch.
There was only one man in the tournament who had blood-red hair.
Radford.
He wants to leave?
The sight of him cut a jagged hole into my stomach. I stared at the hermit-crab shifter, and I couldn’t breathe for a second as the pained shock hit me. The parts of my skin that weren’t still translucent burned scarlet in embarrassment.
His eyes met mine steadily, though I saw a sheepish pink creep up his own throat.
Yes. He should be embarrassed.
I was hurt. I’d thought he and I had shared at least a friendly connection. Perhaps not a love match, but something pleasant.
