Dark Heart of Magic (24 page)

Besides, maybe Seleste's prophecy was right and Deah and I needed each other to survive. Either way, I wasn't going to win this fight. Not now. I wasn't going to be the cause of someone else's misery—especially not someone who had as much hurt in her battered, broken heart as I did.

So I counted down the moves in my head, wondering if she would take the opening I was going to give her.

And she did.

I pretended to trip on the edge of the water and stumbled past Deah. An instant later, I felt her black blade slice into my arm, and the hot spatter of blood sliding down my skin.

Just like that, it was over.

I sighed, lowered my sword, and turned around. Deah stared at me, dumbstruck, as though she couldn't believe that she'd actually, finally won.

The official hurried over, grabbed her hand, and raised it high. “And the winner of the Tournament of Blades is Deah Draconi!”

The crowd erupted into loud, roaring cheers, each one like a sword slicing my heart to ribbons. They should have been cheering for
me
. They should have been yelling and clapping for
me
. They should have been chanting
my
name over and over again, not hers.

I dropped my head, trying to ignore all the jubilation, as though I was exhausted and disgusted with myself. Not too much of a stretch right now.

Yeah, sometimes, doing the right thing was the most painful feeling in the entire world.

T
he members of the Draconi Family stampeded down the bleachers and stormed onto the field, shoving everyone aside, including me. Blake hoisted Deah up onto his shoulder. A Draconi guard stepped up on Deah's other side, and he and Blake carried her around and around. All of the Draconis were clapping, cheering, and yelling—except for Deah.

She kept glancing back over her shoulder at me, her eyes dark and troubled. She knew I'd let her win, but she didn't know why. Well, I wasn't about to tell her.

But I'd made my choice, and the fight was over. There was no taking it back, so I trudged over to the fence at the edge of the grass. Devon and Felix were already waiting for me, their faces filled with sympathy that I didn't want to see and especially didn't want to feel right now.

“Um, good match, Lila,” Felix said, wincing, obviously torn between consoling me and being happy that Deah had won. “You'll get her next year.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Next year.”

Devon frowned, suspicion flaring in his eyes. He realized that I'd thrown the fight, but he didn't ask me about it. Maybe he knew I didn't want to talk about it right now. That I never,
ever
wanted to talk about it. That I just wanted to go back to the mansion, hole up in my room, and not come out for the rest of the summer. Maybe by then all the talk about the stupid tournament would finally be over. Yeah, right. It would
never
be over. Blake and the rest of the Draconis would gleefully rub my defeat in my face for as long as I stayed in Cloudburst Falls.

The Sinclair guards climbed down from the bleachers and headed over to us. I plastered a smile on my face and gritted my teeth through everyone's congratulations and condolences. The guards quickly drifted away, and Claudia, Mo, Reginald, Angelo, and Oscar came down from the Family box and gathered around me. Reginald and Angelo wore sympathetic expressions, but Mo and especially Claudia seemed much more thoughtful. Oscar was absolutely crestfallen, barely twitching his wings enough to hover in the air beside me.

I turned to Mo. “Sorry I didn't win. I hope I didn't cost you too much money.”

He grinned and slung his arm around my shoulder. “Don't worry about it, kid. Easy come, easy go.” His black eyes narrowed. “Besides, you did your best, right? That's all anyone can ask of you.”

“My best. Right.”

Mo stared at me, and I realized that he knew I'd thrown the match as well. But apparently he decided not to call me on it in front of the others.

“Besides,” he continued. “I might have . . . hedged a few of my bets, so to speak, just in case things didn't go the way I wanted them to. If you can't win, you might as well break even, right?”

I frowned. Something about his words bothered me, although I couldn't say exactly what it was. Something about hedging your bets and trying to stack the odds in your favor, although I supposed that everyone in the tournament had tried to do that as much as they could over the past few days—even if Devon had told me that there was no way to cheat in the one-on-one matches.

I frowned. Or was there a way to cheat? Maybe all you needed was—

“You did well, Lila,” Claudia said, interrupting my train of thought. “I'm proud of you, regardless of the outcome of the match, and so is everyone else.”

Sincerity flashed in her eyes, but her mouth was set in a hard line, telling me that she, too, realized I'd thrown the fight. I was sure she wanted to know why, although she was polite enough not to demand an answer in front of everyone.

But my friends' suspicions were nothing compared to having to watch Deah bask in the winner's glory.

She was still riding shoulders, still the center of everyone's attention. Finally, though, the officials stepped forward again and broke up the crowd as best as they could. A few seconds later, a low, rolling drumbeat sounded.

“Now what?” I muttered.

Devon gave me a sympathetic look. “Now, the officials will present the winner's trophy . . . and the one for the runner-up.”

I groaned. “Please don't tell me that I have to go back out there.”

He winced. “Sorry, Lila.”

Sure enough, one of the officials came over, gesturing for me to go back out into the middle of the stadium, where a small stage had been erected inside the stone ring. By the time I reached the stage, Deah was already standing on it, and I had no choice but to go over, climb the steps, and stand right next to her.

The head official started talking about what an honor it was to oversee the tournament every year, how fiercely all the competitors had fought, and blah, blah, blah, blah. The only thing that mattered right now was the fact that I'd lost. But I plastered a tight smile on my face, raised my hand, and waved to the crowd when I was supposed to. Deah did the same thing, smiling just like I was, although she kept looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

“Why did you let me win?” she muttered during a particularly loud round of applause. “What possible reason could you have had for doing that?”

“What does it matter?” I muttered back. “You won. So shut up, and be happy about it.”

She shook her head. “I didn't want to win like
that
. I wanted to
earn
it for myself. I don't need your charity or especially your damn
pity
.”

I opened my mouth to snark back that with her ungrateful attitude, she didn't have to worry because she wouldn't be getting either one of those things ever again. But the official stepped forward and presented me with a small silver cup before I could get the words out.

I ground my teeth together, forced myself to smile again, and held the cup up over my head as though I were absolutely thrilled with second place. No bloody way.

After the polite applause had faded away, I lowered the cup and
tap-tap-tapped
my fingernail against the side of it. Solid sterling silver and worth a pretty penny. Well, at least I'd gotten something out of letting Deah win. Maybe I'd let Mo hock my trophy, such as it was, at the Razzle Dazzle. I certainly didn't want to keep it and be reminded of how I'd lost.

“And now, I am pleased to present this year's winner of the Tournament of Blades . . . Deah Draconi!” the official yelled.

Deah got a gold cup—real gold from the way it glimmered in the sun—and hoisted it up and over her head. The Draconi dragon crest had already been stamped into the cup, along with Deah's name and the date she'd won the tournament. Wow. The engravers around here worked fast. The thought further soured my mood.

The crowd cheered again, the sound rising to a deafening roar, and Deah smiled and waved, although I was the only one who noticed how thin and brittle her expression really was.

Maybe that was because it matched mine perfectly.

 

Finally, the stupid ceremony wrapped up, and I could leave the stage. I stomped down the stairs and back over to the fence where Devon and Felix were waiting for me, along with Oscar.

“Don't worry,” Oscar said, fluttering over and landing on my shoulder. “You'll get her next year.”

“Right,” I muttered. “Next year.”

If one more person said that to me, I was going to scream.

“Come on,” Felix said. “Let's get you cleaned up and out of those clothes so we can go get some food. I know you must be starving.”

“And how would you know that?”

He grinned. “Because Lila Merriweather is
always
starving. They've already set out the food down by the lake. And doesn't bacon make everything better?”

Felix waggled his eyebrows, trying to cheer me up by using my own line against me, and I actually found myself laughing, just a little. Sure, losing had sucked, but I wouldn't trade places with Deah for anything. She might have won the Tournament of Blades, but I had something way more important—my friends—friends who would never, ever desert me no matter what happened.

“Come on,” Felix said, a wheedling note creeping into his voice. “I'll even let you have my allotment of bacon too.”

I eyed him. “Promise?”

He made an
X
over his heart. “Promise.”

I laughed again, the sound coming to me easier this time. “Good. Because you're right; bacon does make everything better. So point me to it.”

 

We stopped at the Sinclair tent, where Felix used his healing magic to patch up the slice in my arm. I also took off my tournament clothes, exchanged them for my normal blue T-shirt, gray cargo shorts, and gray sneakers, and put my silver cup in my bag with the rest of my things. I strapped my sword back to my waist, then balled up my black pants and white shirt and stuffed them into the nearest trash can. I never wanted to wear them or be reminded of this day again.

When I was finished, I threaded one arm through Felix's and my other one through Devon's. Together, we left the stadium behind and headed out of the fairgrounds.

It was after seven now, and the party was already going strong by the time we reached the lake. People were milling around the picnic shelters, laughing, talking, and scarfing down food. Someone must have gotten hold of Oscar's playlist because twangy, old-school country music sounded. The smells of grilled meat filled the air, and my stomach rumbled.

“See?” Felix said, nudging me with his elbow. “I knew you wouldn't be down for long. Not when there's free food.”

I laughed and we got in line in front of the stand that Reginald and the Sinclair pixies were manning, with Oscar fluttering over to help them out. Tonight's menu was barbecue, which meant meat and lots of it. Pulled pork, pulled beef, smoked brisket, and lots of grilled sausages slathered with this spicy barbecue sauce Reginald told me he'd gotten from a restaurant called the Pork Pit. I piled a plate high with meats, then another one with coleslaw, onion rings, baked beans full of bacon, and some delicious sourdough rolls to sop everything up with.

Devon, Felix, and I went over to a table and sat down. I wanted nothing more than to eat my food in peace, but to my surprise, folks from all the different Families came over and congratulated me on the tournament yet again. Nobody said that I would get Deah next year, though, so I didn't have to break out my best scream on anyone.

I smiled and made the appropriate noises, but the congratulations only made me feel even more like a stupid, stupid fool. Yeah, I might have done the right thing, but the aftermath was torture. Especially since Deah was in the middle of the lawn, surrounded by her adoring admirers, with that gold cup glimmering on the table beside her like a neon sign flashing
H
ERE
S
HE
I
S
! S
HE'S A
W
INNER
! I
SN'T
S
HE
G
REAT
!

I focused on the cup. Maybe I could go over and swipe it while everyone was paying attention to Deah. Too bad I didn't have my spidersilk coat with me. It would have been perfect for hiding that gold cup and smuggling it away from here.

Blake and the rest of the Draconis might be showering Deah with attention, but not everyone was happy about her win. Some of the other competitors were giving her sour looks, including Katia, whose eyes glittered an eerie green. I frowned. Something about her gaze bothered me—

Devon bumped his shoulder into mine. “What are you thinking about?”

The thought, whatever it was, vanished back into the bottom of my brain. I shook my head. “Nothing.”

He stared at me, his eyes shining in his face. He leaned down and wet his lips, as though he was about to ask me something, and I was suddenly aware of just how hard my heart was hammering in my chest. Especially because this time, I was going to tell him yes.

Yes, I cared about him. Yes, I wanted to be with him. Just . . .
yes
. To everything there was between us.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar, unwelcome voice sneered. “If it isn't the first loser, hiding out with the rest of her loser friends.”

I looked up to find Blake standing beside our table. My hands curled into fists in my lap. More than ever before, I wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face. Devon put a hand on my arm, warning me against doing anything.

“Did you really think you could hide over here?” Blake said, his voice booming out like thunder.

Folks stopped what they were doing to stare at us, and I realized that Blake wanted me to get mad. He wanted me to look like a sore loser. Well, it wasn't going to happen.

I shrugged, not rising to his taunting. “I wasn't trying to hide. Just wanted to get some food.”

Deah had heard Blake, and she grabbed her gold cup off the table and walked over to stand by her brother. Of course she would. She might have Sterling blood, but she was Draconi through and through.

“Blake,” she said. “Leave her alone. I won. That's the important thing, right?”

Blake gave her a cool look. “Of course you won. You were always going to win. You're the best fighter in town. And now that you have won, you need to show everyone else what their place is—below you. Below us. Below all the Draconis.”

Deah bit her lip, looking back and forth between Blake and me. Her eyes cut to Felix for a second as well. She didn't want to go along with Blake, but I knew she would. She always had before, even if she knew her brother was a bully and hated the way he looked down on everyone else.

She sighed. “Blake, let's just go. Okay? There's no need to be mean about things.”