Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(86)
More agreement flashed in Maeven’s eyes, and her scent took on a note of dusty resignation.
“Run or die, Maeven. Those are your only two choices. I hope you make the right one. For Leonidas’s sake, of course.”
Truth be told, Maeven had a third choice, the one I’d subtly been trying to get her to make for months now. I wondered if that other option had occurred to her yet, but of course I couldn’t ask without tipping my hand about what I was really up to.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Everleigh,” Maeven said, although her voice contained far less venom and bite than before. “And it’s one you’re going to lose, along with your crown, your life, and your beloved kingdom.”
I smiled in the face of her dire prediction. “We’ll see about that.”
I mockingly tipped my head to her, then stepped out of the archway, leaving my enemy behind to stew in her own thoughts.
Chapter Nineteen
Serilda fell in step beside me, and we walked about thirty feet from the archway before slipping behind one of the carts that lined the plaza. The merchant glanced at us, but when she realized we weren’t interested in buying her flavored ices, she started hawking her wares again.
Serilda and I both peered around the cart. In the distance, Maeven stalked out of the archway, her hands clenched into fists and her head swiveling from side to side. I didn’t know if she was searching for us, or perhaps checking to make sure no one had witnessed our little tête-à-tête, but I could still smell her hot, peppery anger, even above all the other scents swirling through the plaza.
She didn’t spot us, and her fists slowly relaxed. Maeven smoothed her hands down her skirt, as if trying to get her raging emotions under control. Then she headed back inside the arena, disappearing from sight.
“Did you enjoy insulting Maeven?” Serilda asked.
“Oh, I thoroughly enjoyed it, but insulting Maeven wasn’t the reason I talked to her.”
Serilda arched her eyebrow again.
“Okay, so it wasn’t the only reason I talked to her,” I corrected. “I also wanted to tell her the truth about Maximus, especially how her beloved brother views her and her son.”
“And what do you want her to do with that truth?”
“The only thing she can.”
Serilda frowned, her eyes darkened, and the scent of her magic gusted over me, as if she were using her time magier power to consider my cryptic words. I wanted to ask what possibilities she saw, and if my long game with Maeven would ever come to fruition, but I didn’t want to jinx my plan, so I kept quiet.
Serilda shook her head, her eyes cleared, and the scent of her magic vanished. “Come on. Your little talk with Maeven has put us behind. We need to hurry.”
We moved away from the cart and headed deeper into the crowd. People were talking, eating, laughing, and drinking, and no one gave us a second look. Paloma was still signing banners, flyers, pennants, and more, but Serilda and I strolled past her and headed to another archway. This opening was much smaller than the others, only wide enough for two people to walk through at a time. A man was lurking in the shadows, although he stepped forward when Serilda and I slipped inside the opening.
“Finally,” Cho muttered. “It’s almost time for me to introduce the next gladiators. I thought I was going to have to leave this here for you to find.”
He shoved a black knapsack into Serilda’s hands. She flipped open the top and drew out a long purple cloak, which she tossed over to me. I draped the cloak around my shoulders, covering up my blue tunic with its silver crown-of-shards crest.
“I want you to know those cloaks were hard to get,” Cho said.
Serilda rolled her eyes. “Hard to get? All you had to do was swipe them from one of the dressing rooms and bring them here. Besides, how many times have you told me what a master thief you are?”
“Only when it comes to stealing sweets,” he said. “And only because I can make the evidence disappear.”
He winked at her. Serilda rolled her eyes again, but she was smiling as she yanked a second purple cloak out of the knapsack and settled it around her own shoulders, covering up her white tunic with its black-swan design.
She shook the knapsack, and the soft clang-clang-clang of metal hitting metal rang out. “What else is in here?”
Cho shrugged. “Some extra weapons and a hammer. I thought they might be useful.”
Serilda nodded and hoisted the knapsack onto her shoulder.
“I still think that I should come with you,” Cho said. “I could help.”
“I know you could, but the more people who go, the riskier it is,” I replied. “Besides, you’re the tournament ringmaster. It would look suspicious if you suddenly disappeared.”
Cho didn’t like being left behind any more than Sullivan had, but he turned to Serilda. He hesitated, then reached out and touched her arm. “Be careful.”
Serilda’s face softened, and she laid her hand on top of his. “To the end.”
“To the end,” he repeated in a low voice.
The two of them studied each other a moment longer, then they both dropped their hands and cleared their throats, pointedly not looking at each other. I had never quite understood their relationship and why they weren’t together when it was so painfully obvious they loved each other. Perhaps that would change when we defeated Maximus.