“Actually, I’d like to ask you about your time in Pendark. I’ve heard rumors that relations are becoming strained with—”
“Now isn’t a good time, Captain,” Heath cut in, his tone polite but firm. “I’ll visit you later, if you please.”
“Of course.” Captain Jale looked at Tamri again, this time seeming to take in her thick, dark hair and Pendarkan-olive skin, then gestured to the doors with a shallow bow. “Please proceed.”
Heath pulled open one of the large golden doors and ushered Tamri in ahead of him. She found herself in a vast marble entryway hung with tapestries. Another pair of tall double doors stood directly across from the entrance, and corridors led off on either side. Glowing spirals of Fire lit the space, as if a lantern had been deconstructed and stretched across the upper part of the entrance hall. All that foreign magic made Tamri tense. She should have taken a bit of Watermight from Laini that morning.
Heath led the way down the corridor to their left. Sconces containing statues and Fire Lanterns of different designs appeared at regular intervals. The corridor was almost as cold as the outdoors, and Tamri shivered harder than ever as they got deeper into the castle.
At first, their footsteps were the only sound echoing through the broad corridor, which was empty of servants and guards. Then the faint ring of steel against steel reached them. The sound of sword fighting got louder as they approached a simple wooden door halfway down the corridor.
“Tamri,” Heath said, pausing at the door and looking down at her. “Before we go in, I need to ask you something.”
Strangely, Tamri pictured his large hand on her hip as they soared up the mountainside. Where had that thought come from?
She tucked her thick hair behind her ears. “What is it?”
“Are you planning to harm Vertigon?”
She kept her tone neutral. “Harm?”
“Pendark and Vertigon haven’t always been on good terms, and King Khrillin . . .” He touched his Fire cudgel, seemingly without realizing it. “I’ll allow you to leave right now if your intentions are less than honorable. I refuse to put the king and queen in danger.”
Tamri gestured to her small, shivering frame. “How much danger could I possibly be to them?”
“Quite a bit,” Heath said. “And I’ve only seen a hint of what you can do with Watermight.”
“I don’t want to hurt Vertigon or your precious king and queen.” Tamri couldn’t say the same for Khrillin, but she spoke the truth. “Coming here wasn’t my idea. You know that better than anyone.”
Heath studied her for a moment more. His scrutiny made the blood rise in her cheeks. Hopefully he would think she was only nervous about meeting the legendary rulers, not about the job she had to do. She glanced down at Heath’s coat sleeve, which hid the wound she’d given him. It must be mostly healed by now.
She jerked her head at the wooden door. “Are we going in or not?”
Heath looked her over once more and then nodded.
“I don’t underestimate you,” he said as he reached for the doorknob. “And you shouldn’t, either. The queen respects people who know their own strength. Pretending to be weaker than you are won’t win points with her.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good.”
He opened the door and led the way into the dueling hall.
12
The king and queen were too busy trying to stab each other to notice Heath and Tamri’s entrance.
Three long dueling strips stretched the length of the hall, with wooden dummies covered in stab marks set up at one end. Four tall windows let in thick beams of light, which crossed the width of the strips and fell on a rack full of swords on the opposite wall. The vaulted space smelled of sweat and leather, with just a hint of smoke drifting through the open windows.
The man and woman dueling on the center strip wore white jackets and masks of wire mesh. Both were tall and athletic, and the sweat dampening their dueling jackets suggested they had been at this for a while.
A hit landed with a thwack.
“Point!” shouted a male voice. “That’s twenty-seven for me!”
“That was simultaneous.”
“Not a chance.”
“It was.” The woman’s voice was serious, focused. “We’re still tied.”
“Fine. But you have to admit that lunge was a thing of beauty.”
“You should have gone for the forearm not the shoulder.” She tapped her glove. “You would’ve had me then.”
“Fair enough.” The man raised his sword, and the woman mirrored him. “Twenty-seven all. Ready?”
“Duel!”
The man charged forward, and the woman parried his attacks. One. Two. Three. She countered, and only a wide swipe kept her blade from his throat. The tap of boots on stone filled the bright hall. Then the man lunged, aiming his blunt-tipped dueling rapier at the woman’s toe. She leapt back nimbly and landed a hit on his mask with a loud clang.
“Sheesh, Dara. You still hit harder than a charging gorlion.” He pulled off his mask to run a hand through his dark hair, revealing a handsome face with high cheekbones shadowed by a bit of scruff. The resemblance to Princess Selivia was obvious in his features as well as his bright, good-humored manner. This must be Sivarrion Amintelle, the Fourth Good King of Vertigon.
The woman removed her mask, too, releasing a long golden braid. Her back was to Tamri, hiding her face. “That’s what you get for taking half the summer off.”
“I’ve learned my lesson,” King Siv said breezily. “Next time I’ll make Sora visit me instead of tramping all the way down the mountain to see her in New Rallion.”
The queen raised her blade. “Shall we go to thirty, or have I worn you out already?”
He grinned. “Not even close.”
Heath cleared his throat, and the pair turned, noticing him and Tamri for the first time. Tamri was surprised to see that King Siv and the Fire Queen were quite young, probably in their mid-twenties.
“Heath! It’s about time you got back.” The king slung his rapier over his shoulder and strode forward to shake hands with the dragon rider. Thin scars covered his face and hands, and an old burn mark stretched the skin by his ear. “I was beginning to think you had to deliver Sel to Latch’s doorstep kicking and screaming like a captive greckleflush.”
“No, Your Majesty.” Heath straightened his back, and Tamri got the distinct impression that the king’s approval mattered a great deal to him. “The princess and I parted ways in Fork Town. She should have arrived in Sharoth by now.”
“Good to hear. And how was old Khrillin?”
Heath hesitated. “He didn’t seem quite as eager for our business as he has on previous visits, sire. And there was trouble in Fork Town.”
“I see.” King Siv’s grin faded. “That sounds like a conversation best had over a goblet of wine. Would you care to join me in my study? If my lady wife will release me from my training obligations, that is?”
He turned to the tall, golden-haired woman beside him. She was studying all of them, including Tamri, with an intense gaze, an arrow focused on a target. Tamri immediately felt wary. The young king was charismatic, but the Fire Queen had the kind of presence only the most dangerous Waterworkers displayed, the kind that came with power.