The Boon of Alon

CHAPTER THREE

I start hearing the word "boon" as soon as I step off the podium, and I don't want to have to explain mine. So as people swarm around us—Suthi looming in the corner of my eye—I knock on Bartol's armored shoulder.

"Get me out of here," I hiss.

Bartol doesn't miss a beat. "'Scuse us!" he shouts cheerfully. "We gotta go chat with our boss. No, no, plenty of time to see us later! I promise! We'll be right back!" He steers me away from the podium, and the crowd—tourney staff, other competitors, spectators who've clambered out of the stands—are forced to part for us. Gods bless Bartol. He guides me right out of the arena and doesn't let go until we're on the much quieter path back to the stable.

Now alone, Bartol whistles like he's impressed. "So...what'd you do to earn a boon like that?"

"Nothing," I say. I don't mind telling Bartol, but there's not much to say about it.

"No, really."

"No, really," I echo. "He said he was trying to prove a point. Just gave me a boon out of nowhere. I hadn't done anything." I was only a couple years into Boss's service then, still in training—I hadn't even started on the circuit and I was already plotting my escape. The boon I asked for was supposed to help with that—I guess the one I actually got did, eventually, help.

"Who'd you meet?" he asks.

"Alon."

Bartol whistles again. And we enter the stable.

Boss shouts in joy at our arrival, throwing his arms wide, and I remember the heavy purse in my hands. I guess he's not too upset that we didn't lose. I hold up a hand before he says anything.

"Show me my contract," I tell him.

"Ah, there'll be plenty of time for that tomorrow. It's time to celebra–"

"Now," I insist, and Boss's face folds back into its usual displeasure. I know he's got it nearby; he has to have it to sign me up for the tourney. Still, he doesn't move until Bartol comes up behind me and puts a hand on my shoulder.

My contract, it turns out, is hidden in a crate in one of the empty stalls, and it carries a faint stink of horseshit and dust. Boss looks like he's tasting the same as he hands it over.

One arm cradling my winner's purse against my chest, I unroll it and make absolutely sure that the numbers are what I remember them being.

Boss gets 75% of our winnings. The winner's purse in my arms holds 20,000 pieces. My buyout price is 4,500 pieces. I stick my hand in the purse and count out five 100-piece coins, tuck them away safely, and hand Boss the rest.

He's holding a fortune but he still doesn't look happy, particularly when I rip up the contract.

"We could have renegotiated," he grumbles.

"Nope," I say. "I'm out." I turn to Bartol. "Bartol, thanks for everything. You're a good guy."

He grins. "Aw, I knew I'd win you over."

I let myself smile. Finally, I have something to smile about. "Sure. See you around."

I step around Boss and back out of the stable, and Suthi is there, coming down the path from the arena. She meets my eyes for half a second before I turn and hustle back into the stable.

"Other door," I mutter as I pass both men again, and leave out the back door instead.

There are girls back out here again, but this time they crowd in when I emerge, cooing like doves, congratulating me. If I wasn't in a hurry... I smile weakly and thank them and keep moving towards the festival, letting them trail after me as I push through the brush onto the main path. There are all sorts of organizations here, militias and merc groups and warrior-monks all trying to recruit competitors like me—the King's Knights aren't an option, and of course the rebellion isn't either, but I don't have to go solo, either. I can see what there is, and let myself get recruited—I just have to do it fast. Because the more people recognize and gather around me, the more notice and come to see, too. I'm very findable right now, and Suthi's not far behind me.