Chapter 31

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

The victors' celebration, just like the remarkable tie-breaker event, was to take place at once. With Dorrin's most unusual demand, however, a slight delay was allowed for. Freeing a prisoner? No one had ever asked for that. The again, it was always the elites who won, so why would they?

But this man? Nearly everyone knew his father's story, and if they hadn't before, they did now, though certain elements had been scrubbed from the records over the years by the Chancellor and his lackeys. The winner wrote the history books, after all.

In any case, a delay was to happen while his father was brought to the ceremony. It wouldn't take too long, and there were plenty of entertainers to keep the crowd amused. Plus the family reunion would make for an even more memorable spectacle.

As for Ziana, she could also make a demand, though she was unsure what she wanted as of yet. She had won her freedom. A fortune. An estate. And best of all, she'd met the man of her dreams in the process. One idea did present itself, but it would require Dorrin's agreeing to it, and she didn't even know if it was possible.

She pulled him close, her man bending down so she could whisper in his ear. He first cocked one eyebrow as he listened to her idea. A moment later his eyes went wide, gears turning in his mind.

"Yes, I think it is possible," he finally said. "And I wholeheartedly agree. But are you sure this is what you want?"

"I've never been so sure of anything."

"Then when it is your time, make your request. I am with you," he said, interlacing his fingers with hers. "Now and always."

She beamed up at him, utterly content. Exhausted, sure, but happier than she thought possible. They were offered seats on the podium by the elites to watch the entertainment while they waited for his father to arrive. They weren't quite at their level now, but their standing had been elevated significantly, and with the winnings each family contributed to the winner, Ziana and Dorrin were quite rich.

That didn't stop the five families from staring at them with barely contained hatred, but Ziana didn't care. In fact, she was reveling in their displeasure and discomfort. It was almost funny, and sure as hell better than she first thought when she'd mulled the situation over as they were being ushered to the Corsus Maximus obstacle challenge. Looking at the elites' faces, she found herself having to restrain herself from thanking them for their selection of events for the final spin.

They tried to set her up to fail. She knew it. They knew it. But they hadn't known she'd had her runes fixed. Best of all, no matter how upset they were that someone had illicitly completed what they'd left undone, the elites who did this to her couldn't say anything about it. To do so would be courting disaster in the form of intense scrutiny from the Dotharian overseer for the system. They had intentionally broken the law by giving her incomplete runes, and that was their undoing.

The celebration was both massive and raucous, and it encompassed not only the arena but also much of the city. What Ziana and Dorrin had done was the talk of the town, and they had become instant celebrities. There was music, dance, and revelry that went on for nearly an hour before the crowd fell to a hush when a small ship appeared in the sky, dropping right down into the arena proper, landing on a soft cushion of air.

The hatch opened, revealing a tall man with broad shoulders that even age and malnourishment couldn't diminish. His hair was the gray of an old slate roof, but his eyes were sharp as ever. And his face? There was no mistaking it.

"Your father," Ziana said, feeling her man's emotions as he struggled to keep his composure. "Go on," she urged. "This isn't the time to be stoic."

As if all he'd needed was someone to give him permission to finally let down his guard and express himself publicly, Dorrin rushed across the field, his arms outstretched. "Father!" he exclaimed, the two men embracing one another firmly, tears of joy streaming down their cheeks. Dorrin's father stepped back, holding his son's face in his hands, taking him in like a man in a desert who'd finally found a glass of water.

"My boy! My wonderful son! You've grown into a man!"

"I've so missed you, Father."

"And I you. But is it true? Did you do what I failed to achieve so long ago?"

Dorrin spun around, arm raised to the throngs in the arena. The crowd let out a massive roar, all of them watching the reunion unfold either on the overhead display or their own smaller personal monitors. The day had just gone from incredible to legendary, and they were a part of history.

"I did it for you," he said, reveling in his father's proud smile. "We have won not only your freedom and a fortune, but an estate. A place you will come to live with me and my mate."

His father did a double take at that. "You have a mate? An Infala mate?"

"Not quite. But we are committed to one another," he replied, gesturing for Ziana to join them. She'd been anxiously awaiting this moment and hurried to his side. "Father, I want to introduce you to Ziana. Ziana, I present my father, Millagro."

"It's so good to meet you," she said, giving the man a massive hug, which for one accustomed to captivity for so long was a much needed, and greatly enjoyed, display of affection.

"I am so happy to meet you. And to thank you for your part in winning my freedom. I know full well the games are the work of two, not one, and my son could not have done this without you."

"True words, Father," Dorrin agreed. "But we are not quite finished."

"Oh?"

Dorrin turned to Ziana and nodded. She, in turn, strode to the officiant and made it clear she wanted to make a public announcement. Naturally, he obliged.

"Thank you all for coming!" she called to the crowd. "And thank you for your support!"

The crowd cheered uproariously. Competitors might acknowledge them in passing, but they never actually spoke to them. Ziana was going to change all of that.

"Now, you've all seen what happened. I mean, you've been with us every step of the way, and you know how much Dorrin wanted to earn his father's release. But I am told that each member of the winning team may request one additional thing beyond the financial prize and our new estate. My partner—my love , has asked for his. And now I will ask for mine."

She paused for effect, knowing that having the crowd rooting for her and Dorrin would make it impossible for the Chancellor or any of the other elites to deny her request. And it was a doozy.

"I want— we want, to receive the most powerful pigment in the system."

"And enhancement of your runes? A most splendid choice!" the overseer chirped. "Of course, we will make it so. And Chancellor Vinchi himself is the keeper of the rarest, most powerful pigment in several systems."

"I wasn't done."

"Oh?" the man said, surprised.

"I want to receive the pigment in a specific way. Both of us have agreed upon a very particular enhancement to our runes."

She waited until the crowd silenced, the anticipation wrapping them around her finger.

"We wish to receive the pigment in the form of matching Infalas."

Rather than erupt in cheers, a chorus of confused voices murmured throughout the arena. Through the entire city.

"Is it possible?" some asked.

"It can't be done!" others said.

What she'd asked for was utterly unheard of. But her request had been made, and in public for all to witness. Even Chancellor Vinchi couldn't deny it. But he seemed amused, as if he still had a trick up his sleeve.

The Chancellor rose, waving the crowd to silence. "Thank you, citizens. Your support in these games has made for an exciting tournament. And as your patron and ruling elite, I would be honored to provide the pigment to our winners. I will have my very own Skrizzit apply it himself!"

"No," a very loud, deep voice shouted.

All heads turned to see its owner. Someone dared talk back to the Chancellor. Heads would roll. Penalties would?—

Heydar and his mate strode from their luxury box, the crown prince of the Nimenni, general of their most elite forces, walking to the podium where the winners stood.

"I am Heydar, heir to the Nimenni throne. And these two are my friends. I will apply the runes to them personally."

Even the Chancellor held his tongue when he realized he was outranked. Nevertheless, he still had one last card to play.

"Of course, we bow to your request," he said with a knowing grin. "But, your majesty, as you know, a Skrizzit is required?—"

"I'll stop you right there," Darla interrupted. "Heydar is a Skrizzit. Pretty impressive, right? My fella's a general, a prince, and a master of the pigment arts. Not bad, if I do say so myself. And I just did. You have anything to add, my love?"

Heydar chuckled. "I do believe you said it all, dearest."

"Then it's settled. Our buddy the overseer here will gather the pigment from the Chancellor's people since we know he wouldn't want to have to rush home himself for that sort of thing. And then we'll meet the winners at their new estate. You did say they won an estate, right?"

"Yes. A palatial one at that, long held in trust by the five families," the overseer noted.

All of the elites actually looked physically ill at the words.

What the overseer had failed to say was that the five families had long kept the estate as a sort of communal retreat. A lavish and fully equipped vacation spot that changed hands between the five families depending who won the games that cycle, but a place they never actually intended to hand over to anyone else. Unfortunately for them, that meant that all of the very expensive furnishings they'd stocked it with for their own use over the years were now immediately and irrevocably transferred to its new owners in their entirety, as per the rules of the games.

Darla seemed quite pleased, as did her mate. Ziana, Dorrin, and his father, just stared with a heady mix of shock, joy, and amazement as they processed the scene. It was Dorrin's father of all people who finally snapped them out of it.

"Come on, then. Let's go see our new home! I can't wait to actually sleep in a proper bed!"

"There are dozens of bedrooms to choose from, sir. And healing balms and elixirs to refresh your body, as well as a masseuse on staff already alerted and waiting for you," the overseer said, his head slightly cocked as information was relayed into his earpiece. "And I've received word the pigment is already en route. It will be there when you arrive."

Dorrin took Ziana by the hand, kissing it tenderly. "Then let's not waste any time. Let's go see our new home."