Dark Heart of Magic (Black Blade #2)(64)

“Then who did it?” Felix asked.

I stared out over the competitors with their cavalier hats and colorful cloaks, the tourist rubes in the bleachers with their cameras and cotton candy, the Family officials high up in the glass boxes.

“I have no idea,” I muttered.



The officials announced that the tournament would start in five minutes, so Felix wished us good luck, left Devon and me at the fence, and headed over to the healers’ tent to join Angelo.

Katia was in the first match of the day. She smiled and waved to the crowd, then stepped up to face her opponent. The official lowered his arm, and the match began.

The Salazar guard raised his weapon and went on the offensive, but Katia slid out of his way too fast to follow. Seriously. One second, she was standing right in front of the guy, and the next, she was behind him, raising her sword. The guard barely managed to whip back around in time to bring up his weapon.

The match went on, with Katia moving faster and faster with every second that passed. It looked like she’d finally gotten her groove back. Or perhaps her anger at Felix and having her heart broken was what was fueling her magic, her quickness, today. Hey, you used what worked.

And it definitely worked for Katia, who was able to draw first blood barely a minute into the match. She grinned and saluted the crowd with her sword, and everyone cheered. Katia skipped over to the Volkov guards, basking in their congratulations as well. She saw me watching her and waved. I smiled and waved back, glad that she was happy.

The day and the matches wore on. Henry lost his match, but everyone gave him a long, loud standing ovation, and there was a moment of silence for Vance. It wasn’t nearly enough, though, and I vowed again to figure out who had killed Vance.

Devon and I both won our first matches, putting us in the field of sixteen, along with Katia. Deah easily won her match as well. Blake also made it through to the round of sixteen, where he faced a familiar foe—Poppy.

A couple of weeks ago, Blake had humiliated and practically assaulted Poppy in front of his friends. He sneered at her the whole time the official was reviewing the rules, hefting the sword in his hands like he wanted to bring it down and split her skull wide open. He probably did. Blake was a sick jerk that way. But Poppy just twirled her two short swords around and around in her hands, ignoring him.

The fight began, and Blake raised his sword and charged at Poppy, trying to overwhelm her right away with his strength Talent. But she stepped up to meet him, used her speed magic to sidestep and trip him as he went by, and neatly sliced both of her swords across his left arm, drawing first blood and knocking him out of the tournament.

Poppy smiled and waved to the crowd, and I clapped, yelled, and whistled as loud as I could. I was glad that she’d finally gotten a little bit of revenge on Blake for the horrible way he’d treated her.

For a moment, Blake just stood there in the center of the ring, a stunned look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe what had happened. That Poppy had beaten him. That he had lost so quickly. Then he slowly turned and looked up at the Draconi box, as if he was dreading what he was going to see.

Victor was on his feet, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowed, his lips puckered in displeasure. He didn’t like Blake losing.

I wondered if Victor would call Blake a loser like he had Deah, after she’d lost the obstacle-course round to Katia. Maybe it was mean of me, but I hoped that Victor was even harder on Blake than he had been on Deah.

And I couldn’t help calling out to Blake when he stormed by.

“Aw, too bad you got knocked out of the tournament already, Blake. And by a girl. That must be particularly humiliating for you, seeing as how you’re a high and mighty Draconi and all.”

Blake glared at me, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword as if he wanted to pull it out and skewer me with it. “Ito got lucky, that’s all. The same way that you and Sinclair have gotten lucky so far. Deah will still win the tournament. Just wait and see.”

He gave me another evil glare and stomped off, probably to go up to the Draconi box, now that he was out of the tournament. Good riddance.

Poppy got knocked out in the next round, but Devon, Katia, Deah, and I all won our matches, then the ones after that, making us the final four competitors in the tournament.

It was just after noon when the officials called for a break, saying that the final matches would start at two o’clock sharp. All the folks from the Family boxes came down from on high to mingle with their guards and offer their congratulations to the folks still in the tournament. Claudia, escorted by Reginald, made her way through the crowd, stopping to talk to the other competitors, but Mo made a beeline straight for me.

“Keep up the good work, kid,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “I’ve been placing a lot of bets on you. Everyone thinks that Deah is going to win, but we know better, don’t we?”

He winked, and I had to laugh.

“Don’t count your money just yet, Mo,” I said. “Deah’s a good fighter. So are Devon and Katia. Any one of us could win.”

He waved his hand, causing the diamond signet ring on one finger to flash in the sunlight. “Bah. This tournament is yours to lose, kid. Just like it was your mom’s before you.”

Startled, I looked at him. “What? Mom competed in the tournament too?”

Mo nodded. “When she was your age. She won it too. A couple of years in a row, including the summer she left town.”