Paloma, Sullivan, and Captain Auster sidled a little closer, forming a protective semicircle around me. Auster was still clutching his sword, while Paloma’s hand drifted down to the mace on her belt. Sullivan flexed his fingers, ready to reach for his lightning, should the need arise.
I glanced over my shoulder. Xenia was clutching her cane, while Serilda, Cho, and the Bellonan guards had their hands on their swords. Everyone was ready for trouble.
I headed after Driscol, and the others fell in step around and behind me.
Driscol, Seraphine, and their guards crossed the plazas and waited for us to catch up at the boulevard. We crossed that as a group and wound our way up the stone steps.
As we climbed, Driscol played the part of the pleasant host, pointing out fountains, buildings, and other interesting landmarks, and giving us an abbreviated history lesson about the island and its people. Seraphine remained silent, a bland, bored expression on her face.
Driscol stopped at one of the landings and gestured over at an enormous building perched at the end of the boulevard several hundred feet away. “And that, of course, is the Fortuna Mint.”
I had been concentrating on the people moving across the plazas, along the boulevard, and up and down the steps, keeping an eye out for potential assassins, so I hadn’t paid much attention to the surrounding buildings. But now that Driscol had pointed it out, I realized just how large the Mint was and how it completely dominated this part of the island.
The three-story structure was fashioned out of gleaming white marble that made it look like a huge square opal that had been set into the surrounding tan stone. Small bits of metal had been inlaid into the wide, fluted columns that supported the building, adding to its glowing luster. I squinted into the sun. No, not just metal—gold coins. Thousands and thousands of coins curled up and around the columns like gold ribbons before spreading out across and completely covering the wide, flat band of stone that topped the structure like a crown on a king’s head.
“And then we have Lady Fortuna herself, our famous coined lady and our ancestor who first founded the Mint.” Pride rippled through Driscol’s voice as he gestured toward the building again.
A large fountain stood in the open space in front of the Mint. The fountain’s round base was made of the same tan stone as the surrounding plazas and boulevard, but the statue in the center looked like it was solid gold. The statue was easily more than forty feet tall and the embodiment of the DiLucri family crest—a woman with coins for her eyes and mouth.
Water rose and fell in small jets in the base of the fountain, but not a single drop touched the woman’s golden skin. Her head was tilted back, and her arms were stretched upward in what was probably supposed to be a strong, triumphant pose, but I couldn’t help but think that the woman—Lady Fortuna—was silently pleading with the gods to release her from her golden torment and give her real eyes to see with, as well as an actual mouth to voice her shrieking rage.
“Isn’t she magnificent?” Driscol asked, clearly fishing for a compliment.
I held back a shudder. “The fountain is a bit garish for my tastes. Then again, I’ve never understood some people’s need to flaunt their wealth.”
Driscol’s nostrils flared with anger, although Seraphine’s expression remained calm. The DiLucri guards tightened their grips on their swords at my pointed insult. My friends did the same, ready to defend me. I gave Driscol a cold, flat look. I wasn’t afraid of him or his men, and I wasn’t going to pretend that he was anything other than an enemy.
After a long, tense moment, Driscol forced himself to smile at me again. “Let’s continue our journey.”
He started climbing the steps again. Seraphine and the guards followed him, and my friends and I brought up the rear.
Five minutes later, we trudged up a final set of steps to another large stone plaza lined with wooden carts and merchants selling everything from winter hats and gloves to brightly colored flags and pennants to replica weapons. Throngs of people milled around, moving from one cart to the next, and the sticky-sweet scents of cornucopia, liquored fudges, flavored ices, hot spiced toddies, and other treats filled the air.
But I only had eyes for the arena.
It loomed like some great stone kraken chained on top of the island. The arena was even larger than the Mint and made of the same gleaming white stone, although it didn’t feature all the garish gold coins. It was easily one of the biggest structures I had ever seen, with level after level spiraling higher and higher into the air. Driscol didn’t offer any tidbits of information about the arena, but I knew that it was called the Pinnaculum because winning here was supposed to be the very pinnacle of achievement.
A steady stream of spectators were climbing the steps that ringed the outside of the arena, carrying their food, drinks, and flags, while many of the competitors were gathered around the tables perched in front of the wide archways carved into the bottom level. Signs had been erected telling the competitors which table they needed to report to in order to find out when and where their event was being held. A hundred conversations trilled through the air, along with snorts of laughter and squeals of excitement.
Everyone was eager for the Games to begin.
My stomach twisted into knots thinking about what—and who—might be waiting inside the arena, but there was no turning back. I had to be strong now, not just for myself and my friends, but for all the Bellonans here and back home who were counting on me.
So I lifted my chin, squared my shoulders, and strode forward to meet my enemies.
* * *
My friends and I followed Driscol, Seraphine, and the guards through one of the archways and into the Pinnaculum. In many ways, it was like the Black Swan arena back home in Svalin—a wide circular space with hard-packed dirt that was cordoned off by a stone wall with several iron gates set into it.
Behind the wall, a wide walkway let people move from one section to another, while several sets of stairs led up to the stone bleachers that encircled the entire arena. The bleachers were rapidly filling up, as were the large boxes embedded at different points in the various levels. Many of the boxes featured cushioned chairs and shaded awnings, along with servants standing by with food and drink. That was where those with money, power, magic, and influence would sit and watch the Regalia, as well as play their own games with each other.
Flags from each one of the seven kingdoms lined the very top of the open-air arena, including one that featured my midnight-blue crown-of-shards crest on a light gray background. To my surprise, an eighth flag was also in the mix—one that boasted the gold face of the DiLucris’ coined woman on a white background. The colorful cloths snapped back and forth in the steady breeze, making the crests seem like living things, as though the shimmering symbols were spectators watching, waving, and approving of all the action below.
“The royal box is this way,” Driscol said.
He strode forward, along with Seraphine and their guards.
A hand touched my elbow, and I glanced over at Serilda. For a moment, we stared at each other, then her hand dropped, and she slipped away from our group. In an instant, she had pulled up the hood of her black cloak and vanished into the crowd.
My gaze flicked to the DiLucris and their guards, but none of them seemed to have noticed Serilda leaving. I moved forward, following them, along with the rest of my friends.