The Boon of Alon

CHAPTER TWO

The thing is, prophecy is bullshit. I don't care how magical dragons are. If I ruin the rebellion, it'll be because they're trying to kill me. I was considering joining them, before—why would I want to stop them?

And if Suthi's going to fall in love with whoever finally breaks her winning streak, that's her problem. I don't care. I need to win this fight to get away from Boss—I can deal with Suthi after.

That doesn't mean it's going to be easy. Suthi has been champion since she was eighteen, and she hasn't lost a fight in the five years since, on or off the circuit. I think the prophecy just psyches people out—like Boss said, she has a reputation for being kind of a bitch. Makes me want to knock her off her pedestal, too. But the money's the goal.

There's another roar from the crowds outside, and a horn blaring above it all—it's time for us to head back to the arena.

"Well," says Boss, "do me proud, kiddo." He pats my shoulder as I pass, as though I'm his daughter instead of the farm kid he bought a decade ago. He wasn't this friendly when I was eleven, that's for sure. There's a rattle of armor as Boss shakes Bartol's hand behind me. "And you—don't fuck it up."

His limited affection is as conditional as ever. I ignore the tips Boss shouts after us as I step out of the stable and follow the roped path toward the gate. It's late into fall, but between the fighting and the high sun, I'm sweating a river beneath my thick tourney tunic. I'm glad I decided to chop all my hair off last week; it'd been weird to see all those dark curls on the ground around me, so much like my mother's, and weird not to feel the weight of my braid against my spine, but I can't deny it's much cooler like this. And less of a handhold should I end up in a grapple in the arena, though that happens rarely.

I hope we can win this. I hope it doesn't completely fuck my life if we do. It's not like I could avoid Suthi after—I want to join the King's Knights and she is one. I don't know how much she believes in her prophecy, but hey, at least she's drop-dead gorgeous. Might be tolerable. Then again, if her personality's really that bad, maybe not.

At least if we lose I'm still a little bit closer to freedom.

"So, sweetheart." Bartol strides up behind me as I stop at the gate, back to his easy tone. At least he doesn't let Boss faze him. "How are we doing this?"

"Same as last match, I think, except try not to get disarmed so fast." Chances are they'll see it coming—probably Suthi has her own coach or whatever who's been watching the matches and has told her all our tactics, including what I did last match. But every pair has a weaker link, and it sure as hell won't be Suthi. Her partner's probably some fancy magic school graduate, or maybe another Knight, but either way they're bound to fall easier.

"Sure," Bartol says. "And how are we gonna lose?"

"I don't think we need to worry about that." I turn to face him. "Do you believe in prophecy?"

He blinks. "Uh, yeah?"

"How likely do you think it is that either one of us is Suthi's 'true love'?"

"Oh." He scratches his stubbled chin. "I guess not very. But if we win..."

"If we win, then one of us gets a girlfriend and both of us get enough money to leave the circuit completely, if we want to," I point out.

"I don't want to."

"You're good enough to go solo. You don't need Boss."

He grins. "Aw, thanks, Dell."

"Anyway." I turn away to face the gate as it opens slowly, and the crowd begins to roar. "Just do your best and don't worry about losing."