Chapter 10

  Today’s the Day

  Basil, Duelist-Scholar

  Living Soul

  Uncommon

  Perfect card memory

  By the time I joined my family for an early breakfast I had slept perhaps an hour in total, a few snatches here and there when my eyes could no longer focus on the crabbed script of the Fire card textbook, and none of it by choice.

  As usual, my parents and brothers were preoccupied with their own affairs and so paid little attention to me despite my obvious rumpled appearance and the fact that today marked the beginning of the Rising Stars Tournament. The closest they got to acknowledging the occasion was my mother mentioning that she couldn’t wait to have another woman in the family – followed by a pointed look my way – to which I did my best to respond neutrally. It seemed that neither Esmi nor her parents had alerted my family about the impending possibility that our engagement might be called off or that I’d likely be facing a foreign noble at some point today. My father – who looked even more exhausted than me, as he always did from an evening spent refreshing the city guard Souls around the Noble District – would have certainly roused himself to give me a gruff speech if he thought the pairing he had worked so hard on was in any sort of jeopardy.

  To his credit, Gale made a commotion when I got up to leave, tapping his fork against his stemmed water glass. When he had the family’s attention, he said, “To our little Basil. May he rise as far as he can today.”

  Randel ignored the poor quip as he put the finishing touches on the kobold face he’d carved into his Earth source, not even noticing he was getting Earth dust in his eggs. My mother, hearing Gale’s words, pursed her lips, and my father opened his.

  “I’m sure Tipfin was exaggerating,” he said, which made my heart dip – what had the old duelist told them before he had left? – “and that you’ll do fine. Soldier on through, as we all must. If it goes poorly, well,” he spread his hands over his half-eaten eggs and sausage as if they were somehow relevant to my future, “you have more important things on the horizon, and a job that will never be in doubt.”

  The City Guard, and thus my father, always needed more people to summon and check on the vast network of Soul cards that policed Treledyne, keeping it safe. Everyone in the family assumed I’d take over for father one day, given that I’d already begun working at the lowest levels of the organization. My older brothers had somehow managed to weasel out of this responsibility despite our poor finances, and I envied them their brazen chutzpah. For myself, I knew that unless I acquitted myself well in the Rising Stars Tournament and then in the invitation-only war camp that was to follow, I would never leave the employ of the City Watch.

  It wasn’t that clerking for my father was so awful, really, but recording arrests and filing warrant papers was hardly the life a young man such as myself dreamed of, nor was having the weight of the entire city’s safety settle on my shoulders the future I envisioned. Not that I yet dared tell my father that I had other hopes, of course. That conversation would come after I had achieved what I needed, and it would be difficult enough to stomach his disappointment even then. Still, if I did well in the Tournament, he’d have no choice but to recognize that I was meant for something different.

  For now, though, I simply said, “Thank you, Gale.”

  “You must be careful, dear,” my mother added. “Letting anyone with two cards to rub together enter this tourney is a surefire way to entice opportunists and ruffians to attend. When you’re not competing, stay in the noble dorms and venues.”

  “Yes, mother,” I said, checking a sigh. I had heard that many people viewed participation in the Rising Stars Tournament as the arrival of adulthood, and it would have been nice if my own family could have treated it the same. Mother always acted like I had never been in the lower districts before, which I had, on at least a half dozen occasions.

  The questionable pleasantries complete, I left our home, setting out on foot. The Coliseum wasn’t far from our estate, but I’d need to pause a distance away from the entrance and time my approach to make sure none of the other noble scions spied me wearing out my shoes like some merchant’s son. Our family only had one carriage at this point, and neither Mother nor Father had thought it worthwhile to haul it out, shine it up, and hook up the horses just to deliver me at a location a few minutes’ walk distant. They’d have done it for Gale. I hurried my steps, trying to outrun the disloyal thought.

  Luckily, I saw no one of note as I hurried through the great columns that bordered the entrance to the Coliseum. I thought the space might still be quiet, what with it being not long past sunrise and the official festivities not yet begun, but the large open-air space within the great arena was already abustle with activity. A mixture of men and Soul cards were setting up multiple wooden stages, each of which rested a few inches off the ground and was clearly meant for summoners to use for their dueling.

  Human Master Carpenter

  Order Soul

  Unknown Rarity

  Unknown Cost

  Unknown Attack & Health

  Unknown Abilities

  The stages were all square and thirty feet across, I knew without measure, because that was regulation to ensure that there was always twenty-four feet between summoners at the start of the match, along with a bit of extra space behind each duelist to provide them some maneuverability.

  Food stands were also setting up on the edges of the walled space. From watching past tournaments here, I knew they’d have helpers who’d walk the tiered seats, hawking everything from meat pies to spiced wine.

  Human Street Vendor

  Order Soul

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  Unknown Rarity

  Unknown Cost

  Unknown Attack & Health

  Unknown Abilities

  I never could eat before a duel though, so I moved past the various workers, living and vibrant Souls alike, making my way to an oversized board on the north side. There, on an enormous piece of stretched parchment, were a series of plates with names, connected by lines made from inlaid brass: the bracket for the tournament. Like a hawk, I zeroed in on my quarter of the competition.

  The first thing that leapt out at me was that the space beneath my own name for the opening round had been scrubbed blank. I had no opponent assigned! Some people liked getting a bye, as it was called, treating it like a free win, but I wanted nothing of the sort. After all the time I had spent contemplating an alternate version of my deck, as well as not finishing my last match with Tipfin, I needed an opportunity to warm up. The first match of a seeded tournament was usually the perfect opportunity for such a thing, since my opponent at that point would almost certainly not be as skilled as those I would face later on. In addition, in every match a card was wagered, so not having a first opponent meant that I was missing out on earning a card that could enhance my deck. While I had decided against adding any Water, I would certainly consider an Order, Air, or neutral Relic card, especially if it was a Rare or higher.

  Someone must have registered and then dropped out at the last moment – it was the only explanation for why there would be a gap in the middle of the seed and not at the end. If I really didn’t have an opponent at the start, I could at least watch an adjacent pair named Throice and Lily compete, knowing I’d be facing the victor of their match in the next round. Sometimes knowing what type of deck an opponent employed was key to leveraging a win, and if the Twins were kind, they would send me a few easy victories today. Or I could try to figure out who Esmi’s mystery suitor was. A Spell-heavy Fire deck should be easy to spot, and if what she said was true about his dueling prowess, knowing how to defeat him would be the most important information I could find. Unless the reason for the missing slot was him paying someone to let him take it over, in which case the blank space next to mine wouldn’t remain that way for long, and I wouldn’t have any chance to scout him before I faced him across the dueling square. I need to find him, yes, but I ought not forget Losum. A quick glance showed that if all went well, I’d face his Archer deck in round three. Perhaps I’d have a chance to sneak a peek at one of his duels beforehand, as well.

  I was breathing faster than was necessary as I turned away from the board, my mind a jumble of half-formed ideas of what I should do next. I was considering summoning some Order source to calm myself, when I spotted a familiar face in the growing crowd.

  “Warrick, you came!” I said, unable to keep the immense relief at seeing him out of my voice. “You swore up and down you wouldn’t.”

  The tall noble boy sighed dramatically when he reached me. “I nearly didn’t,” he said, “but then I’d be a poor excuse for a friend. Can’t be terrible at everything, can I?”

  “You’re not a terrible duelist,” I told him, to which he gave me a flat look. I didn’t press the point; I could tell it wouldn’t help him feel any better. Even though he was of age to compete in the Rising Stars tournament, his family hadn’t sponsored him for the event. Instead, they had given that honor to the best student in the school they ran, some girl whose name I didn’t know. I could respect the merit of the decision, the fairness of it, but at the same time I felt badly for my friend. He could have chosen to enter the tournament on his own, but in truth, he really wasn’t much of a duelist at all.

  In an effort to distract him from his woes, I described my own predicament, to which he let out a rueful whistle.

  “A rival suitor! Fate has you over a barrel and Fortune isn’t helping,” he said. “Any idea who the bastard is?”

  “Not a clue,” I said, turning back to the bracket board. “Demane. That sounds like a Charbonder, doesn’t it? Or maybe Plutar?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Warrick replied, shrugging. “I saw a vampire on the way here, though.”

  That was enough to yank my attention away from the brackets. “A vampire? Here? In the daylight?”

  “That’s right,” Warrick said, “and not just here – competing.”

  I couldn’t keep myself from scoffing. “Now you’ve taken the joke too far. Even without a night of sleep, you can’t expect me to believe that.”

  Warrick was shaking his head the whole time, denying my refusal, but it was a different voice that answered me.

  “She’s a foreign dignitary and was given special dispensation to compete by my father. If you spent the requisite days attending to the court, you’d know that.”

  I didn’t even need to turn around to know who the harsh, clipped voice belonged to. I had been hearing it off and on throughout my whole life, and interactions with it always led to me feeling much worse about myself afterward.

  I turned around because it was the only proper thing to do, and there, flanked by his two sworn companions, was the crown prince, Gerard of Treledyne. His clothes were the height of fashion: a stiff high collar, long cuffed sleeves, smooth pants tucked into tall boots, and every inch of those items stitched with intricate patterns likely made from gold thread, so that he shone nearly as much as his father, the Sun King. His long, wavy black hair was tied back, and his disapproving frown, often seeming on the edge of open rage, was one I had seen many, many times before.

  “Your Highness,” I said, giving him half a bent knee as was appropriate given our difference in stations, and I saw Warrick do the same beside me. When I straightened, I did my best to put us on a pleasant path, saying, “Are there any opponents you’re excited to face, my prince? Perhaps this vampire ambassador?”

  He snorted. “Hardly. This tournament is an offense. Forcing the Crown Prince to compete alongside commoners defies Order. Does anyone truly think I’d be barred from attending War Camp if I were beaten? This farce lessens all of us.” His cold eyes flicked over me. “Some more than others.”

  I kept my smile pasted in place. Gerard was obsessed with hierarchy and Order. Any prince would be, I supposed, but this one had made his pursuit of orderly perfection so intense that he’d achieved the full 10 Order Source by his tenth birthday. Cultivating those last few required tremendous effort, and they hadn’t served to make him a pleasant playmate for the other noble youth of Treledyne. It was a foregone conclusion that he would place first in the Rising Stars Tournament. Who else among the competitors was likely to have a deck containing multiple Mythics? Certainly not I. Noble though my family might be, there was a great gulf of both wealth and honor between the royal family and house Hintal, and Gerard took care never to forget it. It wasn’t often he chose to acknowledge me at all.

  “Reginald is in the same portion of the bracket as the vampire,” the prince said, gesturing to one of the companions behind him, “and I expect him to make short work of her. Lustra is her name, though I doubt we shall need to remember it long.” Gerad gave a precise smile to his man, his teeth pristine. “I expect a sworn attendant of the Crown Prince will be able to demonstrate the superiority of Treledyne’s nobility over all lesser beings.”

  “Of course, my prince,” Reginald of Turmas said. He was a stocky boy with shorter legs, and though he always strove to match Gerard’s angry detachment, I could sometimes sense a faint air of panic about him. Now was one of those times.

  As Fortune would have it, Esmi arrived at the bracket board right then. She was bereft of her kobolds but still carried herself with a commanding grace I found enchanting. The curtsy she gave the prince was a hair less deep than the leg I had done – her family was more powerful and respected than mine. She turned to me, a smile on her lips… until she looked down and saw that I wasn’t wearing her fabricator on either of my wrists.

  Her look of confused disappointment cut me to the core. “Could we speak somewhere private? To…to…,” I stammered, finding it much harder to speak to her with other people watching.

  “A kiss and a cuddle isn’t going to give you the kind of luck you need to win, Basil,” the prince’s other companion said. This was Losum of Drakk, whom I’d be facing on the field, and he was an obnoxious twit.

  I shot the crass boy an angry look before I could stop myself. We’d never been all that friendly, but right now I wanted nothing more than the opportunity to grind him into the ground.

  “That’s not what I meant,” I said, turning back to Esmi. “I – ”

  A horn sounded, which meant I had been staring at the bracket and talking with my peers much longer than I had realized. It was time for the tournament to begin.

  Esmi gave the prince another shallow curtsy and departed, favoring me with a brief backward glance that nearly ripped out my heart. The prince said something cutting before leaving, but for once I didn’t listen. It wasn’t until Warrick spoke up that I heard anything at all.

  “Fate is giving you no breaks today.”

  “Why do you say that?” I asked without looking at him. I was still watching Esmi on her path away from me, wanting nothing more than to run after her, to explain everything, but there just wasn’t time.

  “You don’t have a free round anymore as your first,” Warrick explained. “They just added a new nameplate. Someone called… Hull?”