stuffed with trinkets and ribbons, some of them like to renounce shoes because it makes them feel closer to the gods or some bullshit like that. They’re also smart as hell and like to use others’ perceptions of them to their advantage. They’re not as strong and fierce as the Amazons, not as brutal as the third faction, but there’s a reason they’ve held their wedge of the city since its inception. They are not to be underestimated.
“Now,” I murmur.
One by one, we drop off the low roof to the street. I pause long enough to ensure all seven of us are on the ground and then lead the way through the crowd. It doesn’t take long for people too start noticing us. Seven men in dark clothes with murder in their eyes. Even if they don’t recognize us for who we are, they begin to part, pushing each other to make way for us.
We reach the lip of the amphitheater and start down the stairs. One of the Herald’s guards moves to stop us from entering the sand, but she holds up a hand and he shifts back. This woman has been Herald since I was a child, a neutral party that oversees all the feasts and calls no faction home. She surveys me and finally nods. “Have you come to challenge?”
It’s obvious to everyone present that it’s exactly why I’m here, but Sabine Valley is nothing without its ridiculous rituals. I can’t ignore them if I want this to work. “Yes, Herald.”
Her dark eyes flick over my face and those of my brother’s behind me. “What grievance have you brought to us, Abel Paine?”
“My brothers and I were wronged by the leaders of the factions present.” The space naturally amplifies my voice, but even if it didn’t, every person present would hear me. They’ve all gone silent. “Seven fights for the seven lives they’ve ruined.”
She studies me for a long moment. The Herald has never stopped someone from engaging in ritual combat during Lammas, but she still has the authority to do it. “Who will be fighting?”
“I will.”
“You’ll stand in proxy for your brothers?”
“Yes, Herald.” Things aren’t traditionally done this way, but that’s going to work in my favor tonight. Those fools will look at me and think that there’s no way I can possibly win seven fights. They’ll happily wager the things they can least afford to lose on that assumption. And then I’m going to shove their failure down their throats and make them choke on it.
The Herald tilts her head to the side. “And the stakes?”
“For every fight I win, one of my brothers chooses a Bride as restitution.”
Her eyes widen ever so slightly. “A high price.”
“So was exile.”
At that, she nods and turns slowly to meet each of the faction leaders’ gazes in turn. I’ve avoided looking at them until now, but I can’t avoid it any longer. First up is Aisling, queen of the Amazons. She’s a fierce bitch and looks every inch of it, a lean white woman with hard green eyes and pale blond hair braided back from her face. I once watched her gut a man and walk away without so much as a hitch in her stride.
She sent her warriors to set my childhood home on fire on the night my father died.
Now to Ciar, the Mystic’s leader. He’s a grizzled white man with a cloud of gray hair who looks like someone boiled him down, papery skin stretched tight over muscles and tendons. He likes to pretend the gods speak through him and uses it to rule his people with an iron fist. He’s also got thirteen wives at last count and dozens of children.
It was his order that commanded his people to provide the drugs that sent our household to sleep, killing dozens in the fire.
And finally the person I’ve both dreaded and craved seeing. I stand there and stare up at the man who was once my friend. Eli Walsh. He’s filled out since I saw him last, a white guy with long-ish blond hair swept to the side and black frame glasses. He always was too pretty, and now he looks fucking flawless. Someone who didn’t know better would assume he’s as useless as he’s pretty, and he likes to play up those perceptions. In truth, he’s nearly as deadly as I am.
His father slit my father’s throat and would have killed every single one of my brothers if I didn’t take them and run