Sarkal and Asirri started after the wind-winged and their children followed in their footsteps. Even though Lannahi had heard descriptions of the Trails before, the sight of the black corridor resembling a tunnel lit by lightcrystals unnerved her. She stopped reflexively.
“You’ll get used to it,” Maal murmured.
When he placed his hand on her back, urging her gently forward, Lannahi experienced another shock. Enchanters tended to avoid physical proximity. They had the advantage in distance fighting, but if someone got close enough to gag their mouths, they would be powerless. Unaccustomed to familiar gestures from her brother, Lannahi felt Maal’s touch like an invasion, and her heart squeezed in panic. She hurried after Letiri, running from discomfort, but a moment later, she felt silly. Maal wouldn’t attack her in Sarkal’s presence.
Pride, Lannahi thought, trying to calm down.I choose pride, not fear.
Lannahi discovered that it was hard not to think about fear on the Trail. The walls, ceiling, and floor were black and matte and didn’t reflect light. Even though the lightcrystals marked the corridor’s boundaries, she had the impression that the room was much larger, and the floor was about to stop being hard and turn into what it looked like—an abyss. She felt like she was walking in a void. There was nothing reassuring about it.
Fortunately, the journey did not last long. At some point, the guard leading them disappeared as did Sarkal and Asirri, and soon Lannahi was standing in the open air looking at the massive walls of the Black Arena. In Goldenshadows, the capital of Sarkal’s kingdom, the sky was gray and the frigid air heralded the coming winter, but here shone the serene autumn sun. They’d covered a distance that typically required a multi-day journey in only a few minutes.
Sprouting in the middle of the plains at the heart of the Continent, Blacktower was the center of political life, and its dark stone tower, visible from many rainbows, was a symbol of the Royal Game. Because elemental magic could be unpredictable, its location was a deliberate choice. Away from volcanoes that could accidentally erupt and large bodies of water that could evaporate—those had been the basic criteria when looking for a suitable site for its construction. There were also no farmlands around to be affected, and the air in summer was humid enough not to be conducive to fires. Like the Free Cities, it had no king or queen and couldn’t be a subject of a Challenge. It was governed by pathfinders, fae with the ability to manipulate space, who after the Great Tremor had taken on the role of guardians of the new order established to prevent similar disasters in the future. Because they controlled the Trails, they retained a significant influence on trade, and people reckoned with them to no lesser degree than with the Rulers, but they didn’t participate in the Game. As long as the existence of the Continent wasn’t threatened, they remained neutral, and that was why it was in their city that the duels of the Rulers took place, important declarations were made, and disputes were settled. It was here where trade treaties were negotiated and those who violated the Black Tower Rules were punished. Here one sought powerful allies and found deadly enemies.
Here the fate of the world was decided.
And, today, Lannahi was going to interfere with it.
***
Since dueling was a widely accepted way of resolving disputes, every city was equipped with a battle arena, but the one in Blacktower, with its massive dark walls that could accommodate thousands of spectators, was particularly impressive. Despite the fact that she lived in a sixteen-spear-high palace, Lannahi felt intimidated, but she knew everything here was designed to be so. The size of the building, the purposeful exclusion of servants and guards, the overwhelming presence of powerful fae… All to discourage those who lacked the conviction of their decision. In the Royal Game, many lives were at stake, including your own. Either you played seriously or not at all.
Sarkal bid farewell to the Guide, who emerged from the empty space between two of the hundreds of similar pillars surrounding the arena, and together with Asirri started confidently toward the nearest entrance. Lannahi tried to imagine what it would be like to have their confidence but to no avail so she resorted to her usual trick—she focused on appearance. Straight back, calm expression, elegant movements. Whether she won or lost, she would do it with style.
She knew that the Black Arena was built a rainbow away from the city walls to ensure security and discreetly searched for them, aware that it would be too dark to see them later. However, barely did their silhouette appear in her field of vision when she was distracted by the glances of the other fae that forced her to shift her attention to her parents. Whenever they inclined their head to one of the attendees, she did as well.
One of the four main doors was open wide. Outside, guards in black uniforms stood on either side, while inside, hostesses in black dresses handed out keys to the private lockers where one could store their personal items. Although the light deflected here in a normal manner, Lannahi couldn’t help but think that the hallway and the corridors lit by lightcrystals resembled the Trail. Smooth black walls, floors, and ceiling. Black doors, handles, and girandoles. Apart from the colorful clothes of the newcomers and the white placards, everything was black.
When they located their assigned lockers and stored their coats, Sarkal guided his family back into the hall to a staircase that led to the top floor. The weather was usually treated as a random element of the game, so facilities of this kind were built like an amphitheater and consisted only of an auditorium and an arena, but the Black Arena was primarily a place to socialize. In addition to the amenities like a canopy, lockers, and private rooms where one could talk out of range of prying ears, there was also a special area designed to allow the attendees to interact with one another freely. During the Royal Sabbath, it wasn’t the arena but the Main Hall, which circled the stands and was separated from them by thick plates of glass, that was the most important part of the building. Its black walls were the backdrop, the black tables ladened with refreshments were the scenography, the black floor was the battlefield. What was happening down in the arena was just entertainment.
At the beginning, Fate was kind to Lannahi. The first people they encountered were Igal, the king of a neighboring kingdom, and his ambassador Saoul. Both were Sarkal’s friends and often visited his court. Conversation with them made Lannahi feel almost as if it was an ordinary day at the palace. It helped her to compose herself and when her father’s other friends started to approach them, she endured their attention with an almost natural ease.
Her curiosity awoke. At moments when she wasn’t the center of attention, she looked around the room, admiring the many varied costumes. Pale and vivid colors, modest and bold cuts, simple and complex patterns, materials thin and smooth, and rough and thick… Now Lannahi understood why Letiri ignored her mother’s advice and instead of wearing a simple dress with slits at the hips and loose pants that showcased practical elegance, she dressed like she was attending a ball. With Letiri’s wide dark green skirt and the corset emphasizing the curves of her body, Lannahi’s gray dress, even brightened with the golden color of embroidery and pants, seemed to her extremely boring. The fact that the outfits of the rest of her family were in a similar style to her own didn’t comfort her much.
Slowly, Fate began to turn. This section was mainly occupied by enchanters and rainmakers inhabiting the central strip of the southern part of the Continent, but from time to time, representatives of different origins passed this way. The sight of a horned landshaper standing out in the crowd with his tall height and strong physique was like a bite of the frost. Clothing was the least of her worries. She wasn’t here to look pretty.
Then Letiri spotted her friends and dragged Lannahi with her. This was the moment when the straight road became steep and winding.
Because Lannahi had spent many hours perusing the albums containing the portraits of notable fae, paying special attention to those with whom her father had a personal relationship with, she guessed the identities of the two rainmakers Letiri wanted to talk to even before her sister spoke their names. A muscular man with a dark beard and mohawk was Llazaros, son of Queen Kaallis and prince of one of the three cities that belonged to her. The slimmer one, with a pointed chin and a storm of curls, was his Chancellor, Sammais. The long fabric of their blue-gray uniforms hid the subtle scaly patterns on their skin, which only became distinct when exposed to water, so they didn’t stand out from the crowd of enchanters in any spectacular way. Aside from the different color of their eyes and hair, only Llazaros’s sword and jewelry—golden rings on his fingers and a round earring in his right ear—were conspicuous but compared to the horns of the landshapers or the tails of the firebringers, the difference was almost nonexistent.
Letiri greeted the men with a grin. “Llazaros,” she said in a bright voice, inclining her head. “Sammais.”
“Letiri.” The prince reciprocated the nod and ran his gaze over her body. “You look flowering, little orchid.” When her sister answered the compliment with another smile, he glanced at Lannahi. “And this is…?”
Letiri feigned surprise. “Don’t you see the resemblance between us, Prince?”
A small smile tugged at the man’s lips. “Allow me not to answer this question, please.”
“You believe that women do not like to be compared to one another?”
“I’m leaning toward this suspicion.” He regarded Letiri. “And I wouldn’t want to be the cause of anger… or jealousy. It would be a shame to waste time on such a lovely day.”
Letiri’s face shifted to a nonchalant expression. “Don’t worry,” she said, lowering her voice. “My sister and I havecompletelydifferent tastes. If I hadn’t brought her to meet you, she wouldn’t have given you a passing glance.”
Had Lannahi not known her sister, her boldness would have taken her breath away. Playing with someone’s ego rarely turned out well and almost never with a fae who held so much power. Lannahi would never speak to anyone so bluntly. However, she’d been watching her sister long enough to know that Letiri never did anything thoughtlessly, and she wasn’t particularly surprised when Llazaros laughed instead of getting offended.
“Brutal as always,” Llazaros commented, sending Letiri a meaningful gaze. “And, as always, I feel intrigued.”
Letiri smiled. “Lannahi, this is Llazaros, Prince of Roughwaters, and Sammais, his Chancellor. Llazaros, Sammais, this is Lannahi, a singer at my father’s court.” She let go of Lannahi’s arm and stepped aside as if to give her space to make a formal curtsy.
