Dividing Eden (Dividing Eden #1)(50)

Her feet pounded the path as she hurried around a pile of hay bales, passed the boy who had been ahead of her, and spotted why the crowd had been cheering. Andreus had leaped over a flaming pile of coals and was now streaking toward a line of flags three hundred lengths in the distance that signaled the end of the race.

The man with the missing teeth jumped over the pile of hot coals, and was now running twenty yards behind Andreus. He was fast and looked as if he was trying to win the Council’s promised prize, but her brother was faster. She pushed herself harder and was about to jump over the coals when she saw it.

A knife. The man with the missing teeth had pulled a knife out of his pocket and was taking aim at her brother’s back.

“Andreus!”

The crowd. The distance. He couldn’t hear.

Carys dashed over the hot coals. She tripped over her hem as she fumbled for her pockets. Larkin’s design was true. The long, sharp knives came from their hiding places. The man slowed his pace and lifted his arm to throw as Carys used the motion she’d practiced so often in the underground passages and let the stilettos fly.

Andreus crossed the finish line and the first stiletto bit into the base of the man’s neck. The second sank into his back just before he fell to the ground.





12


The cheers.

The excitement.

And it was for him.

Sweating and panting hard, but refusing to slow down, Andreus had crossed the finish line. He held up his arms to acknowledge the spectators when he heard the first scream. In the crowd beyond the field, he saw people pointing. Everything around him went silent and he looked back to see what the problem was.

Carys was standing just past the fiery coals obstacle. He felt a spurt of relief when he realized she hadn’t fallen into one of the traps. Although smoke was billowing up from the bottom of her dress. Was that what the people were shouting about?

Then he saw the man lying on the ground twenty lengths from the finish line. Blood oozed from the familiar silver stilettos sticking out of his back.

For a second it was as if nothing moved. Then chaos erupted.

Several guardsmen leaped over the fence separating the racing path from the spectators and hurried toward Andreus, swords drawn. Another grabbed a bucket that was being handed to him over the fence and sent the water splashing onto Carys.

Carys screamed at the man to let her by, shoved past him, and raced down the course toward Andreus.

“Are you okay?” she shouted above the din.

Andreus looked around at the crowd, at the guardsmen, at the other five runners who were standing near the fiery coals appearing as stunned as he felt.

“What did you do?” he shouted at Carys, trying to understand what was going on. One minute he was winning the footrace—and not because of anything his sister did to help him. It was his victory. His alone. The other competitors were racing for gold. But as hard as they ran, he was the one who crossed the finish first.

Growing up, he’d watched his brother victorious on this very field. He’d listened to the cheers and saw how the girls ripped fabric from their hems to offer as favors to their champion. He’d seen Imogen’s eyes glow each time Micah sent a strong competitor to the ground. Even if she hadn’t loved Micah, she’d cheered him as if he were a hero.

Today Andreus was the hero.

In crossing the finish line, he realized how much he wanted the crown. How much he wanted to see Imogen watch him with glowing eyes and to hear the people of Eden cheer for him.

Now the cheers were gone.

“He had a knife, Andreus,” Carys said. “He was trying to kill you.”

“Kill me?”

Captain Monteros climbed over the fence and the crowd quieted as the head of the castle guard slowly walked to the fallen racer. He picked up the blade lying on the ground next to the dead man and turned it over in his hand several times before sliding it into his belt. He then grabbed hold of the silver stiletto handle, put his foot on the man’s back, and yanked the knife free. He did the same with the one buried in the base of the fallen attacker’s neck.

No one made a sound as Captain Monteros examined both of the weapons for several long seconds, then looked up at the center platform and nodded to Elder Cestrum. Captain Monteros wiped both stilettos on his cloak and walked to where Andreus and his sister stood.

“Princess,” he said, turning the silver weapons so that the handles were pointed toward Carys. “I believe these belong to you.”

Carys hesitated for several long seconds before closing her hands over the stilettos.

“Your brother owes you a debt of gratitude,” Captain Monteros said loud enough for those standing close to the fence to hear. “I spotted the man’s intent a second before your blades took him down. Had it not been for your excellent throws the Prince would certainly be dead.”

Andreus’s chest tightened and his heart pounded harder than it had while he was running.

“It was luck, captain,” his sister quickly said. “And the fates that guided my blades to protect the heir to the throne!”

The Captain of the Guard smiled and flicked his gaze to the stilettos that Carys held with such command. “That is the kind of luck I would very much like to have. Truly, your skill is most impressive, Highness. Where did you learn to throw so well and why is it that no one has spoken of your abilities?”