Court of Fives

“Tana and I recommended you be entered in the first trial today, the one for the most promising Novices.”

“You did?”

He nods, his gaze steady on my face to make sure I understand how serious he is. “Think of this as a test to see how good you really are and how badly you really want this. Any Novice who wins at the Royal Fives Court automatically moves up to Challenger. We think you’re ready for it. You have the potential to become an Illustrious, Jessamy.”

The unexpected praise sweeps warmth into my cheeks. “What about Lord Kalliarkos?”

He yanks hard on the lacing of my gloves. “Keep your eyes on the obstacle in front of you and your heart in the court. As for his lordship, he’ll be placed in the normal manner, according to his victories and a random draw.”

The first warning bell rings.

The Fives have a structure so complicated it is run by accountants. Trials begin with fledglings or the lowest-ranked Novices and work up to Illustrious. That’s why I’ll go in the first trial whereas Kalliarkos, with five Novice wins under his belt, will go a little later.

A fanfare of blaring horns announces the arrival of the king and queen and their entourage, so loud we can hear it even down here.

I want to prove myself. I want my father to be proud. I want to run the prize circuit and pour money into Mother’s hands so she never need want for anything. I want to pay the fee for Maraya to take the Archivists’ exam if Kalliarkos will agree to secretly sponsor her in another city. I can accompany Amaya to the theater and buy her all the masks and ribbons she wants. I will find Bett. As I wait for the second warning bell I stare at the wall and envision in my mind’s eye the obstacles I may encounter and how I will defeat each one.

“Jes.” Kalliarkos steps in beside me and takes my hands in his with such familiarity that my pulse surges like I’m already running. “May Fortune kiss you, as I intend to do right now in front of everyone.”

My cheeks flame.

“I knew I could make you blush again,” he says, his bright face all the laughter he needs. He is the sun, triumphant, and tonight, one way or another, he is going to be mine.

“Leave her be, my lord,” says Darios, coming up to us. “She is already on the court in her mind and so should you be. Do you forget what this trial means to you?”

Kalliarkos stiffens, releasing me as his expression closes up like the last brick set into the door of his tomb. “No, of course not.”

I grab his hand despite Darios’s frowning presence. “May Fortune kiss you as I do.”

Right out where everyone can see and wonder and speculate, I kiss him. It is only a brief touch, but it is my promise to him.

“It already has.” He presses fingers to my cheek, the warmth of his skin and the intensity of his gaze its own kind of blossoming magic.

Darios’s grimace pours vinegar over me. “If you will, my lord, let me guide you through another menageries.” He ushers Kalliarkos away to a warm-up circle, deliberately leaving me behind.

But he can’t take our promises away. I find my own space, as I always have, and with a sure heart pace through cat, jackal, and crane.

The second warning bell rings.

“First trial!” calls a gate-custodian. “Spider, Garon Stable!”

I tug my mask on, adjust it so the corners of the eyes fit perfectly, and enter the ready cage. My custodian hands me a brown belt that blends with my plain brown clothes. I start on Pillars. Good fortune for me.

“First trial! Firecat, Kusom Stable.”

A short, stocky, but exceedingly fit young woman in a silky jacket saunters in and accepts the blue belt. Her lack of height may hurt her on Trees but she’ll have balance and agility like I do and less height to fight against. She looks me up and down, unimpressed by my ordinary brown mask and my ordinary Fives gear, and she flicks a little finger against her chin, a kiss-off before the trial even begins. I’m so excited that she’s honored me with a taunt that I grin. This is what it truly means to be an adversary.

“First trial! Sandstorm, Royal Stable!”

A muscular young man struts in wearing a fancy jacket with the sea-phoenix badge. He’s got to be good to train at the Royal Stable, and by his cocky posture he is pretty sure he’s the best in this ready cage. A custodian gives him the red belt.

I exhale a calming breath into my cupped hands. My thoughts drift to my mother and father, to the butterfly mask and the firebird rug and chair.

The butterfly is a soul given substance. For all its seeming fragility its serenity is too powerful to be quenched.