Oliveah had a very difficult time dragging herself from bed the next morning. She lay there for a long while, watching the brightening rays of dawn come slanting through the lacy curtains about the window, unable to keep Devlin Alvik’s words of the night before from replaying over and over in her mind. Acceptance of the truth remained a struggle, but it was something she would quickly have to conquer if she was to be of any use.
It was this thought that finally saw her pushing aside her blankets and drawing herself to a sitting position. Madi’s bed on the other side of room lay empty and neatly made, with a note left on her pillow. Oliveah dragged herself to her feet and across the room, taking in the diviner’s neat scrawl covering the small piece of parchment.
At breakfast with the Reifs, it read. We’ll return for you when it’s time to start for the forum.
Oliveah sighed and dropped herself down onto the bed. Returning from her meeting with the royal jester the night before, she’d come straight to her room and refused to speak a word to anyone. Madi had sat with her quietly, making no inquiries or demands over what might have been said, and the last thing Oliveah remembered before finally drifting off was still being under the diviner’s watchful and silent eye. She would have to warn Madi that if she spoke with Devlin Alvik again, under no circumstances could she reveal to him that it was Taleb he was looking for. This information was the only advantage she had to play, and Oliveah was determined to guard the secret with her very life if she had to.
She pushed herself to her feet again and mechanically began washing and dressing, reminding herself she needed to look presentable, for her troupe was performing between matches today. It was not an experience she was looking forward to, especially as she now had much more important things to concern herself with.
Her troupe had arrived in Aralexia two days earlier, with all members taking up residence in an inn lying near to the center of the city. After much consideration, Oliveah and Madi had gone to their troupe master, Moriss Tipley, and explained that a divination had shown Madi’s life to be in danger should she conduct any readings in Aralexia this week. It was their intention, therefore, to keep Madi’s presence here unannounced, so that she would not be solicited for any sessions. Never fool enough to doubt his diviner, Moriss hadn’t argued. Madi had also taken to masking her appearance somewhat by wearing a shawl about her head and shoulders while out in public—a precaution that probably wouldn’t hurt within a city no stranger to Savannons.
Not surprisingly, Taleb and Nathon had somehow determined her troupe’s place of lodging and come calling only hours after her arrival in Aralexia. She’d left the vineyard two weeks earlier without speaking a word to either of them, still furious over how they’d mocked her concerns, and she’d again refused to see them here. Instead, she’d sent Reavis out to inform them that she would find them once she was ready to talk and not a moment sooner.
But it appeared this was now a confrontation she could no longer delay, whether she was ready for it or not. The revelations of the night before had shifted everything into a far more serious picture than she could’ve ever imagined.
She had not attended the duels commencing the first day of the King’s Challenge, and for three separate reasons. First, neither Taleb nor Nathon had been scheduled to fight. Second, it was a surety that they’d both be in attendance and she hadn’t wanted to risk running into them just yet. And finally, she’d had no desire to sit there and watch men fight each other to the death for nothing more than a silly sackful of gold. She tended to agree with Madi’s point of view regarding the competition, finding it entirely too savage to find any enjoyment in.
But this hadn’t stopped Madi from attending the day before. Once the names and schedule comprising the first round had been released to the public, just hours before the official start to the games, she had chanced upon one of the numerous leaflets floating about the city and discovered the name Rydin Kale upon it. Recognizing him for the Jennite she’d been incarcerated with in Tyrell, she’d insisted, with great concern, on being present for his match. Oliveah had declined the invitation to join her, but left her in the company of Sabian and Eugan Reif to act as her escort. This was done easily enough, for once she’d learned Sabian was to lead Madi to one of the legendary Catalyst Stones, she’d made it her business to locate him as quickly as possible once they’d arrived in Aralexia—a simple task, since his very own cousin, Eugan, was entered in the Challenge.
How the Ruby Stone was connected to what she now knew of Taleb, Oliveah had no idea, and so she’d not mentioned the fact of it to the jester.
She had not seen Madi again until the diviner had returned to their inn at early evening, bearing the news that “Elvin Vikdal” was in reality Devlin Alvik, royal jester to King DeSiva, and that he wished to meet with her. Madi had also confirmed that he’d been the one to send the mage gifted with invisibility into her family’s vineyard, and with the sole intention of spying on Taleb. Oliveah now knew this had been done primarily in an effort to distinguish whether Taleb or Nathon was the one Alvik truly sought, a confirmation which—thank all the Patrons—had not been found.
Oliveah had been confused and afraid setting out for her meeting with Devlin Alvik, but eclipsing both these emotions had been fury. Armed only with the speculation that his actions had something to do with the Destiny Madi had glimpsed about Taleb, she’d been fully intending to unload the totality of her rage upon him for his intrusion, royal jester or not. It was her belief that he was completely responsible for both men now being entered in the Challenge, a fact she did not view lightly.
Of course, she now knew Alvik was as concerned over this as she was, at least in regard to Taleb. And he was not without cause—for if mishap or accident were to take Taleb’s life now, it was entirely possible all Dhanen’Mar would suffer for it. Then again, would Destiny actually allow Death to steal him, before his purpose was even realized?
She didn’t know, and didn’t care to take the risk; and apparently the jester felt the same way, for he seemed as determined as she was to get both men alive through the games. His task would begin the next day with Nathon, and then the following with Taleb. Even knowing the jester would be doing his best to manipulate the outcome, Oliveah was anticipating those upcoming matches with terror. She had no idea how she was going to handle actually sitting in the audience, watching them fight, but knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid being present.
But that would be a worry for tomorrow; today, she and Madi had to find a way to keep the two from seeking out Flynn Fajen and his magically-gifted companion—Devlin Alvik’s own brother, she now knew. At present, she had no idea how to accomplish this, but was determined to figure out a feasible plan sometime in the next couple of hours. She was also assuming this confrontation hadn’t yet happened, a rather risky bet considering Nathon and Taleb’s plainly-spoken determination to get to the bottom of the mess that had occurred at the vineyard that night.
Withholding a sigh, she tied off the final laces of her dress and was running a comb through her hair when the door opened behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she watched Madi enter the room wearing an apprehensive look.
“Close the door and have a seat,” Oliveah told her, laying down her comb. “There are a few things we need to discuss before we start out.”
Madi did as asked, settling down in the chair next to the window. “He told you something more of Taleb, didn’t he?” she said.
Oliveah sank down onto the bed across from her and nodded. “Yes. But I cannot speak of it. I hope you understand.”
Madi simply nodded; if there was anything a diviner understood, it was the need to keep certain truths unspoken.
Oliveah went on. “Only, Alvik doesn’t know for certain it is Taleb—and you must be careful not to tell him.” She then went on to briefly explain how she’d manipulated the jester into protecting both men through the course of the Challenge.
The diviner took it all in silentl
y. “Any thoughts yet on how we’re going to keep them from the Thieves?” she asked once Oliveah had finished.
Oliveah frowned as she thought. “No. But I think it best I speak with them.”
“The Thieves?”
“Yes. Fajen, at least, should be stationed in the gambling tent. I can seek him out between matches.”
Madi looked at her. “Great-grandmother did say to expect their aid.”
Oliveah nodded. “It could be this is what she meant. But either way, we will remain vigilant. Nathon and Taleb are Alvik’s responsibility, but your life remains in danger so long as we’re in Aralexia. Has Sabian yet told you where the Ruby Stone is hidden?”
It was Madi’s turn to frown. “No. He says he will reveal that information at the conclusion of the week, once our party is complete. Evidently, he’s under the impression that without a third figure to act as our guard, we will not live long enough to even find the Stone.”
Oliveah took that in worriedly. Should she send Taleb away with Madi? Getting him out of the country for a time might help keep him safe, but it could also prove disastrous for the rest of Dhanen’Mar if he failed to return by the time he was needed. She decided she would ask Sabian Reif for further guidance on the matter, for it appeared his ghosts knew much.
“What time is Eugan’s match?” she asked. She was not looking forward to this—Eugan Reif was the son of Lord Guerin, and she’d known him for most of her life. She did not want to entertain the possibility of having to watch him die this day.
“Tenth-hour,” Madi told her. “His is the fourth match.”
Her troupe was performing for the audience between matches three and four, so that meant she’d have to sing before knowing his fate. She then quickly determined to speak with Fajen, as well as Taleb and Nathon, before having to take the field and sing; her nerves would be shaky enough without having those confrontations looming over her.
“All right,” she said, getting to her feet and gathering her determination. “We’d best see to this, then.”
They found Sabian and Eugan Reif downstairs waiting for them, along with Reavis who had apparently decided to join them. Oliveah was glad for his company; his light-hearted and fun-filled approach to life would surely be in need today. They left the inn together and started toward the arena. The streets were already bustling as hundreds of others made for the same destination, their excited chatter mostly consisting of rehashing the matches of the day before. Overhearing this, Oliveah suddenly remembered she hadn’t asked Madi how the Jennite Rydin Kale had fared.
The diviner grimaced slightly when she spoke the question, but it was Reavis who answered.
“Shortest fight in the history of the Challenge,” he said with an amused snort. “Kale defeated his opponent in about two breaths.”
Oliveah glanced at Madi, then back to Reavis. “Did he kill him?”
“Yes,” he told her. “Were I entered in the games, I’d now be praying to all the Patrons not to be drawn to face him.”
Oliveah looked at Madi again, and the diviner just shrugged back. Oliveah hoped her friend would now willingly keep her distance from this Jennite, for clearly he was an extremely dangerous man.
Madi shifted her eyes away and onto Eugan. “Who do you face today?” she asked him.
“A Dhan’Marian from the east, come from the mountain regions,” he replied in an even tone. Eugan was twenty-six years old, and yellow-haired like his cousin Sabian. Trained with the sword since his youth, he was nonetheless not here on the well-wishes of his father, Lord Guerin. Evidently, the two had had an epic row over the matter.
“Are you nervous?” she pressed.
Eugan grinned and looked over at her. “Should I be, diviner?”
Madi smiled back. “I would tell you if I knew.”
Oliveah sidled closer to Sabian as they continued east through Aralexia’s streets, seeing no sense in wasting the opportunity.
“Sabian,” she said to him quietly.
He turned to her, his dark eyes locking onto her gaze. “I know you have gained knowledge of who he is, now,” he said.
“Yes,” she nodded, “and I was hoping your ghosts could help me in the matter of his further safety. Once this week has passed—do I send him with you and Madi?”
Sabian began smiling slowly. “An interesting thought—but no. Much higher powers than you have already seen to that particular matter. Do not meddle, friend Oliveah; so long as he survives the Challenge, he will make it to where he needs to be.”
She interpreted do not meddle to mean don’t stand in his way. She glanced away briefly, seeing that Madi, Reavis, and Eugan remained lost to their own conversation, before turning back. “I understand, Sabian. But then who is to journey with you and Madi to find the Stone?”
He began nodding. “That is a matter that has been left to you. But first you must see her through the week alive. Then, the picture should become clear.” He paused to take in her look of exasperation. “I cannot give you a name, for I do not know it. Only that we will need a warrior with us when we depart from Aralexia if we are to have any hope of finding the Stone.”
Oliveah didn’t speak again until they came to the grounds just outside the arena, the makeshift marketplace thronging with thousands of spectators eagerly awaiting the first match of the day. Easily spotted was the large, dark-blue tent erected at its center, the place where everyone knew the Thieves conducted their gambling business. With her eye upon it, she professed hunger due to missing breakfast, and urged everyone to continue on and find seats while she sought something to eat.
“We can wait,” Reavis told her.
She shook her head. “I’ll be at least ten minutes, given the look of these lines. Best if you all just go on ahead so you can find decent seats.”
Madi clearly understood her intentions, and began waving herself with the small cloth fan she’d pulled from her satchel. “I would like to sit down,” she said, fanning away. “The heat is stifling, and I fear the walk has left me fatigued.”
“We’d best get you inside and seated then,” Eugan nodded.
Sabian was looking from Oliveah to Madi with a small smile.
“Reavis,” Oliveah added, seeing he was about to protest again, “go with them so you know where they’re sitting. Then you can return and lead me.”
“Very well,” he agreed.
Oliveah watched them turn and disappear into the crowd, and then made straight away for the Thieves’ tent. The crowd was thinning out rapidly as more and more people made their way into the arena for the commencement of the first match, but a swarm remained about her destination. She pushed her way through the flap, glancing about quickly.
In the middle of the tent the Thieves had fashioned a board posting the names and times of the six fights occurring this day, and all were busy taking bets across the countertop before it. Flynn Fajen was easy to spot and Oliveah made her way toward him, waiting impatiently for him to finish with the man in front of her.
The Thieves’ commander completed his business and fixed her in his blue gaze as she moved up to face him. “Who do you favor?” he asked, clearly having no idea who she was.
She stared back at him. “My name is Oliveah Oslund. I believe you made a visit to my family’s vineyard a few weeks back? We should speak.”
His reaction surprised her.
Rolling his eyes, he sighed. “Have they sent you after me now? Let me guess, you’re supposed to lead me into an ambush of some sort? I find this pathetic.”
She was confused. “Ambush? No, of course not.”
“Well, your men have been stalking me since I arrived in the city. I’m not normally so pretentious, you should know.” He offered a wave.
Oliveah turned and glanced around to follow his gesture, seeing men positioned in every corner of the tent and all now watching her with mounting curiosity. Beginning to understand, she looked back.
“Tha
t is what I’ve come to speak to you about. I think, together, we can find a way to free you from this . . . inconvenience,” she told him.
Fajen raised a dark eyebrow. “You know the truth behind this? Because I don’t.”
She lowered her tone considerably. “I have spoken with Devlin Alvik, yes.”
He blew out a breath. “All right. Come with me.”
Fajen vaulted over the countertop and made way for the back flap, waving away his guard of fellow Thieves as he did so. Holding back the canvas, he gestured for Oliveah to exit.
Back outside, the marketplace was now nearly deserted, a telling sign that the first match was set to begin at any moment. They moved several paces from the tent and then faced each other.
“First of all,” Fajen began, looking down at her with his arms crossed over his chest, “whatever the jester told you, you can keep it to yourself. I want nothing to do with his sort of business.”
Oliveah nodded, thinking Flynn Fajen a wise man.
“I’m sorry if Taleb and Nathon have been a nuisance to you,” she told him, “but they know nothing more than that a couple Thieves suddenly appeared on the lands they’d sworn to protect.”
“So tell them the truth of it and let them go after the jester. This is his mess, not mine.”
Oliveah paused. “I’m afraid that is not an option.”
“Why not?”
“Any answer to that would fall into the realm of details you’d rather not know,” she told him.
He sighed. “Then I hope you have another solution in mind, because so far you’ve done nothing but waste my time.”
“I’m looking for a reason to give them that they will accept, without feeling the need to come after you,” she said.
“Well,” he began, “Knoxx said he yelled something about a misunderstanding, that he was in the vineyard only because he’d needed a place to hide out.”
“Knoxx is the mage? When did he say this?”
“I believe while one of your men was attempting to run him down with a sword.”
Oliveah suddenly gestured in excitement. “But that is a perfect solution!”
“Yes?”
She nodded. “As I’m certain you know, there is now a law banning all Thieves from Tyrell. It would be sensible to say your mage was simply taken unaware, too afraid to reappear and risk being hanged by the Legion and choosing instead to avoid discovery by hiding in the vineyard. But once found there, he became fearful for his life and sent for you in a desperate bid for rescue.”
“Well, the last part is accurate enough, anyway.”
She nodded again. “I believe they will accept this. Just be certain to inform your man—Knoxx, is it?—of the circumstances, on the chance they still feel the need to question him. But this should certainly eliminate any further threat of violence.”
The Cejan failed to look convinced. “Lady Oslund, they’re War-born, so I wouldn’t count too highly on that. You also seem to be forgetting the reality of our exchanged wounds, which puts the situation on an entirely different level.”
She raised an eyebrow, taking in his Secondary of Revenge. “Are you truly looking for a re-match?”
“Against men crazy enough to enter the Challenge? Not I,” he shook his head. “But if they don’t soon back off, my associates may take matters into their own hands, and I won’t feel compelled to stop them. Consider this a warning, should your plan fail.”
“It won’t fail,” she snapped at him. “Besides, even Thieves would not dare harm Challenge participants.”
He shrugged back at her, and she stalked away feeling incredibly irritated. She now had to worry about Taleb and Nathon not only surviving the Challenge, but also the threat of the Thieves, could she not find a way to diffuse the situation. She was still storming away blindly when she heard her name being called.
“Have you still not gotten any food?” Reavis called to her, jogging over. “What have you been doing?”
“I ate it already,” she lied quickly.
“Oh. Well, if we hurry, we can still make the start of the match.”
Oliveah followed after him wordlessly. Madi and the Reifs had managed to find more or less decent seating, near to mid-field although on a bench making up one of the highest rows. Oliveah didn’t mind, for she didn’t have any desire to be any nearer the impending violence than necessary. Sliding onto the bench beside Madi, the two shared a quick glance.
“I caught sight of Nathon before we found our seats,” the diviner murmured. “He and Taleb will meet you after the second match.”
“Where?” Oliveah fired quickly, relieved.
“I told him The Bouncing Beggar. It’s a small tavern just a couple blocks over. I thought you might prefer a more private environment.”
“That will do nicely. Thank you, Madi.”
The diviner nodded absently.
Any further conversation was then silenced as the official bell-ringer called the first combatants to the field. One was a Justice officer, and the other a Dhan’Marian no one seemed to know anything about. Oliveah wondered if Devlin Alvik did; she could see him down there, sitting beside King DeSiva in the box of royal seating and no doubt exuding nothing of his many internal burdens. She was torn between having a great sympathy for him and loathing his very existence, and since she had reason to do both, she was left in a place of deeply mixed emotions. But her personal opinions mattered little now, in any case.
Tearing her eyes from him, she looked to the duelists and began trying to steel herself. Knowing she would be watching Nathon at this tomorrow, she figured she’d better prepare herself as best she could. Even so, she found herself wincing when the bell-ringer officially began the duel.
The opening match, as it was, did not prove overly painful to watch. It lasted only five minutes or so, and resulted in the Justice officer’s merciful victory. After successfully disarming his opponent, he simply held his sword point to the other man’s throat for a few beats, and then backed away, allowing him to live. By the sounds of the crowd around her, Oliveah determined half were happy at the honorable conclusion, while those remaining were disappointed in the lack of bloodshed.
The second match had a very different result. It pitted a foreigner from the country of Kolasa against one of the knights of King DeSiva’s royal guard, and it became clear with the first clash that both men intended to kill the other. The knight eventually prevailed, opening up the other man’s middle, but he took a serious injury himself and required the immediate care of the Healers.
Oliveah was happy to leave the arena directly afterward, trying to erase from her mind the image of the Kalasian’s guts spilling out of him. She thought there was something very wrong with their world that so many people found this sort of thing entertaining—or with their king, who not only allowed, but encouraged, these brutal rules.
Leaving Madi, Reavis, and the Reifs behind, she immersed herself into the crowd and started for The Bouncing Beggar. Her nervousness over confronting Nathon and Taleb had by this time completely vanished, a direct result of her urgency to deter them from the Thieves. It was very tempting to again begin cursing the jester for this mess, but knowing he was risking his life in an attempt to protect Taleb wasn’t something she could ignore. For this reason alone, she could not bring herself to hate him.
She reached the tavern and stepped inside. It was a small establishment and held few customers, although this would likely change now that the time had fallen between matches. Not seeing Taleb or Nathon, she settled into a corner table and gave the barmaid an order of two ales plus a glass of blueberry juice for herself. Although she had yet to eat anything today, she had no interest in food.
The beverages were brought to her and, just minutes later, Taleb and Nathon stepped through the door. She waved them over, and then scrutinized their expressions as they drew near and took seats across from her. Nathon appeared slightly wary, probably anticipating another f
urious demand for them to withdraw from the Challenge. Taleb seemed at ease, but carried a gleam of curiosity in his eyes. She found herself simply staring at him for a long moment, as what she now knew tumbled about in her mind. Oh, what an unfair hand fortune has dealt you, she thought. He finally raised his eyebrows at her scrutiny, looking amused.
“Madi said you wished to see us?” Nathon asked, regarding her cautiously.
Oliveah got a hold of her jumbled thoughts and nodded back at him. “First,” she began, “let me assure you this has nothing to do with your participation in the games. Clearly, I’ve already discovered the futility of that particular argument.”
Nathon sighed. “You didn’t leave us in a fair position, Oliveah.”
She held up a hand. “I’m not here to discuss that either.”
The two exchanged a look, but she had no idea how to interpret it.
“I’m here,” she started again, “to talk to you about the Thieves. I know you’ve been stalking Flynn Fajen, and I’m here to tell you that it needs to stop.”
It was obvious neither had been expecting this particular topic.
“It’ll stop once we know why he and his lackey came onto the vineyard,” Taleb told her, frowning faintly.
She gave him a tight smile in return. “Then we have no issue. For I spoke with Fajen myself this very morning.”
“Alone?” Nathon demanded, incredulous.
“What were you thinking?” Taleb followed quickly, his frown now severe.
“There was no danger,” she told them. “I thought a reasonable discussion the best way to handle the matter, and so it was. Perhaps the two of you shouldn’t always be so quick to take to violence.”
Nathon turned his eyes to the wall for a long moment, saying nothing, and Taleb took a long pull of his ale. She watched them curiously, then said, “Are you not interested in what I discovered, then?”
“Of course,” Nathon replied somewhat shortly, dragging his eyes back to her.
She noted both now seemed irritated with her, but went on.
“It seems all of this was but a simple misunderstanding,” she started again.
“Tell that to my leg,” Nathon muttered.
She ignored the remark, as well as Taleb’s grin that followed. “The mage found himself within Tyrell’s limits before realizing all Thieves were now banned there, upon punishment of death. He panicked and decided to hide out inside the vineyard until he could figure a way to oust himself safely.”
Nathon stared at her, as though trying to find a way not to accuse her of being an imbecile. “Oliveah,” he began slowly, “the man is gifted with invisibility. It should have been a very simple thing for him to make his way from Tyrell without notice.”
She nodded, having expected this. “Certainly, had he not been on the very verge of exhaustion and unable to make it much further without turning visible. Finding himself near to the vineyard, his desperation caused him to sneak onto its grounds, where he intended no harm.”
Now Taleb was staring at her. “Then why did he not just rest long enough to regain his strength, and then sneak off in the same manner he snuck on?”
“He tried,” she insisted, now improvising on the fly. “He was actually just about to make his exit when I ran into him, the act which ultimately led to his discovery. He then sent the crow to Fajen for help, and surely you are familiar with the remainder of the tale.” She paused to take in their skeptical expressions. “Still you doubt? Then explain to me why no one was harmed, or nothing even stolen?”
When neither of them could come up with a response, she nodded, even while hoping desperately that this had been enough to convince them.
“Regardless of your explanations, evidently I need to remind you that I was, in fact, stabbed,” Nathon finally said pointedly.
She glared at him. “Only by an act of self-defense! Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe you were the one to incite the violence.”
Nathon looked back at the wall.
Taleb was rubbing his forehead.
Sensing she was very close to an acceptance, she decided it was time to change tactics. Widening her eyes, she stared at them. “Don’t you understand that I aimed to discover this truth for your own benefit? This way, your only concern will be for your duels.” A tear began to dribble from her eye and start down her cheek. “Now you have nothing to distract you from simply surviving the week.”
Nathon was the first to relent, which didn’t surprise her; it was a rare occurrence indeed when the sight of her tears didn’t weaken him.
“All right, Oliveah,” he sighed. “We’ll stay clear of the Thieves.”
She then slid her gaze over to Taleb. Predictably, he was proving more stubborn, just staring back at her silently. He had always been this way, possessed of this trait she had many times found frustrating, but one she now only hoped would help him see out his destiny. Tears did not work quite so well with him, but he wasn’t immune to them either, and so she squeezed out a few more while continuing to hold his eye.
“Please Taleb,” she implored him. “I will worry enough during the times you are on the field, I can’t stand to do it while you’re off it as well. My heart simply won’t bear it.”
He looked like he wanted to punch something, but he finally gave in and swore to stay away from all Thieves—at least until the conclusion of the week. Oliveah felt a crushing relief at her victory, harboring not a shred of guilt for manipulating them as she had. When it came to the matter of their very lives, she would use any means necessary to keep them from harm.
With this issue settled, she suddenly felt the hunger she’d been ignoring all day and suggested lunch. Sharing a platter of sandwiches and vegetable salads, it appeared they were all taking pains to avoid any serious talk throughout the meal, with none making any mention of the games or the matter they’d just discussed and settled. But there did remain one issue to overlay the light conversation with a feel of tension, and although it too remained unacknowledged, Oliveah was certain the other two were just as aware of its presence as she was. They were still waiting on her.
But that decision had now been made for her, and while this should have given her a great relief, in reality it brought forth a feeling just the opposite. Sneaking glances at Taleb, she found herself growing near to panic at knowing that she might never see him again after the conclusion of the week. She fought the feeling, trying desperately to think of a life with Nathon, but this did not wholly work. Truthfully, she still couldn’t bear the thought of losing either of them.
They headed back to the arena after their meal, finding Madi, Reavis, and the Reifs where she’d left them. They all squeezed in, and Oliveah found herself between Nathon and Taleb to observe the third match of the day. The combatants in this duel included a Dhan’Marian born to Death and a Jennite born to Justice. The native prevailed, and the Jennite left the field alive but minus his left arm. The Healers kept upon the sidelines rushed in to cauterize the wound, an act which brought a long, tortured scream from the Jennite.
“We’d best go now, Oliveah,” Reavis said suddenly, leaning across Taleb to take her in. “The rest of the troupe is already convening on the field.”
Oliveah stared at him, then blinked quickly in realization. She’d completely forgotten about their performance. “Do you know the song list?” she demanded, bolting to her feet and pushing past Taleb hurriedly.
Reavis dug around in his pocket as they descended to the lower levels, finally withdrawing a crumpled piece of parchment. She snatched it out of his hand and unfolded it.
Reavis laughed at her. “I thought I was the disorganized one.”
She ran her eye down the list of musical numbers. Seven songs in all would be performed, with she and Reavis taking the lead for four, and one more that she would sing herself, accompanied by a small choir. Seeing the last song upon the list, she gave a small smile.
“I know all of these
as well as my own name,” she said, relieved. Flubbing a performance not only in front of an audience this size, but before the very king himself, would be a devastating blow for her entire troupe. Thankfully, however, Oliveah felt she could execute all these songs in her sleep if she had to—particularly the last. She strode onto the field with renewed confidence, no longer the least bit nervous and just anxious to get this over with so that she could shift her thoughts back to more important matters.
The entire royal council remained in their boxed seating to view the performance, and as she drew nearer she couldn’t help but glance at Devlin Alvik. He appeared not to have noticed her, but she wouldn’t have wagered on that being true. Next to him, the king was drinking wine and watching the assembling performers, and it was then she inadvertently caught the eye of his son, Prince Luken. Quickly, she averted her gaze and dropped into a curtsy, which he responded to with a smile and nod.
Turning away hastily, she saw Reavis already nearing the center of the field and she rushed to rejoin him. Her harp—a replacement for the one smashed at the Tulan ball—already sat awaiting her.
Oliveah took her place next to Reavis, a position at mid-field but facing the king and his royal council. Moments later, they began the first number.
With the notes and lyrics so familiar to her, Oliveah gave very little thought to her performance, knowing only that she was delivering without fault, having given herself over entirely to the music. Nothing made her feel so alive as this, allowing for no thought or feelings but those the music itself brought forth.
They ran through the first six numbers flawlessly, and then she moved to take the forefront, alone with her harp for the final song. Reavis remained a few steps back, positioned to lead the small choir positioned behind. She paused slightly before plucking the opening note, wondering if Fate was now sending her a message, one meant to reassure her of the decision she now had no choice but to make. For while the deeper tale behind the song had long ago been lost and forgotten, every country the world over recognized swans as the symbol for eternal love, and never could she hear this song and not think of Nathon.
Oliveah struck the harp string and began to sing Angus and the Swan, knowing he would be smiling as he listened.
“Angus asleep, she came to see him
From her knew the sweetest tune
Then, when he begged her to take his hand
She spread away from his dream
He stared that morning, he couldn't tell
Where she had gone, where she was from
Sick at his heart
Falling in love with the bird from the fairytales
Seeking advice from Fergne
“It is fated for you to love only her.”
Where did she fly?
Seeking the truth in these dreams
They tell him to love only her
Where did she fly?
Where did she fly?
Where does she hide?
“Swan” he called her
Three times fifty swans around her
Two swin through the gates of eternity
Three times fifty swans around her
Two swin through the gates of eternity
Through the gates of eternity.”
Chapter 30