Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Boy, you weren't kidding," Ziana said as she polished off a plate of what Dorrin had informed her was something of a specialty for the game. A type of stew usually reserved for military campaigns, sporting events, and anything that might prove exceptionally exhausting, above and beyond the normal rigors of life. It was delicious, and on top of that she felt as if every bite was soaking directly into her drained muscles.

"Pace yourself," he reminded her. "There are many other items being prepared, and you would not wish to eat too much of just that one. Plus, it can be somewhat binding in large quantities."

She paused mid-bite. "It'll plug me up?"

He nodded. "You would need to eat quite a bit more, but yes, that has been known to happen, and we do not yet know how your body will react to this particular dish. Therefore, I advise you hydrate well and eat sparingly of each item. It will give your body ample opportunity to process the food while also allowing you to sample a wider variety. I am under the impression, given your recent arrival, that you would enjoy that, yes?"

"Yes, definitely. Thanks for the heads up."

"Heads up? Why would my head be low?"

"It's a saying on my world."

"It makes no sense."

"It does if something is flying at your head."

He shook his head in disagreement. "If something is flying toward my head, I would think look out or duck would be a more appropriate warning. Heads up just makes no sense. In fact, if anything, it would cause one to raise one's head, making them more at risk for injury than reducing it."

"I—actually, now that you mention it, I suppose that's a valid point. I mean, it's like most colloquial phrases in that we really don't think about how they became expressions in the first place. I just never think about it like that, you know?"

Dorrin shrugged and continued in his steady rhythm of moving food from his plate to his mouth. While Ziana was rather enjoying the novel flavors, her unwilling partner seemed to be eating without relish but rather a mechanical efficiency. Feeding a machine and nothing more, every bite restoring his energy for the next round of exertion, whatever that might wind up being.

They ate in silence a while, Ziana occasionally making comments about this dish or that, greatly enjoying at least this part of her latest ordeal. Dorrin would occasionally grunt or nod, but beyond that he was anything but talkative.

"You don't really talk much, do you?" she commented as her belly grew full.

"I only speak when I have something to say."

She was waiting for his usual snark to follow, likely in the form of, "Unlike some," or something similarly rude, but he left it at that, though she didn't think it was necessarily because he was becoming more polite for her benefit. She watched him a moment, sizing him up now that they'd had some down time together. He was gruff and abrupt with her, but he didn't seem like an overtly bad guy. He just didn't want anything to do with her.

Unfortunately for both of them, the cuffs on their wrists meant neither had much choice in that matter.

"Well, if you don't have anything to say, I'm going to ask you some questions. I'm kinda in the dark here, and I could really, really use some information."

"Very well," he grumbled. "What do you wish to know?"

"Well, how about something simple to start? First off what's the deal with these games? I mean, it's like some sort of massive spectacle every few years, but why?"

"That is not simple. The games have been going on since long before I was born. Commoners are afforded this one opportunity to compete against the ruling elites."

He fell silent, returning his attention to his meal.

" And ? There's clearly more to it than that."

"And the games are a massively popular form of entertainment with visitors from all around, not just this region, though the competitors are only locals, per custom and rules."

"Except for us fill-ins, right?"

"Correct. The rest of us are born and raised here, and we have trained long and hard to prepare for these games."

"But your partner?"

"She was injured."

"Is she your wife?"

"No."

"Girlfriend? Sister?"

"No, and no. Merely a good friend who is particularly skilled in most of the core areas required for the games. It was a good partnership."

"Until the big wigs made sure she couldn't compete, right? I heard about them pulling some shady stuff if a team was too good."

"And you heard correctly. And thus, I find myself bound to you, an utter neophyte without a hint of knowledge or skill of any use in the games."

"You can't know that."

"It is a reasonable assumption."

"I'm not going to argue with you about it."

"Thank the gods for small mercies."

"But I am going to keep asking questions. If I'm stuck with you playing this stupid game, then I need to know as much as possible about it. Like, who are those people?"

He followed her gaze to the cordoned-off tables where the elites dined separate from the commoners.

"The five families. You have already met Flagro and Galla. They are Chancellor Vinchi's children."

"You have some beef with that Flagro guy."

"We grew up together. Or more, we grew up at the same time. He has always been this way."

"A lifelong rivalry?"

"I would not call it that. He is an arrogant ass, and I want nothing to do with him, but the games are the one time I have no choice but to deal with him and his nonsense."

"Fair enough. And the others?"

"Do you really want a list?"

"I might not remember them all at first, but it's good to know your opponents, so yeah."

"One of the first logical things you've said thus far. So, that there is Regent Anjello's son Broodius and his mate Obliosa. Those two you've obviously met. Then that one there is Lord Kuantos's eldest heir, Aden. He competes with Trammia, eldest daughter of Dominar Reejellian. And Reejellian's eldest son, Lonks, seated on the far left, competes with Lord Kuantos's daughter Quilla, the one at his side. And then the two with purple hair? Those are Bladzo and his sister Skeetaxa, the twin siblings of Primus Dinokta's house."

"It all seems pretty incestuous."

"The elites keep their grasp on the reins of power by staying close. Intermarrying and competing are standard practice. That is also why the games are so popular. It's the one opportunity for a commoner to ascend."

"I've heard that word used before. What exactly does it mean in this context?"

"To ascend is to become wealthy. More than just that, it means you will be elevated above commoner status. It is why the citizens are so incredibly fond of the games. It's the chance to cheer for an underdog—one of their own—in hopes they can live vicariously through them in their quest for ascension. It also means the elites would have to treat the winner as an equal, and if there is a new winner from the lower classes, each of the families is required to contribute equally to the winner's victory purse, with one notable exception."

"Let me guess. Unless the winner is one of them."

"Exactly. It is not only in their social interest to win the games, but their financial interest as well. This is how they shield and hand down generational wealth. Of course, there are many years of intermarriage and mingling of bloodlines, but almost always within the existing group, though none are Infala bonded but rather unions of convenience."

"About that Infala thing. I kind of understand a little bit of it, but not the whole thing. It's some kind of magic tattoo thingie that draws you to someone?

"Far more than that. An Infala union occurs when two Infalas find one another and grow identical. It is a powerful bond that is undeniable and draws you to your mate."

"I'm not too fond of the idea of some tattoo telling me who I can be with."

"I understand. But once you feel its draw, you could not imagine it any other way."

"You speak from experience?"

"I am unbonded. But my sister…"

"Your sister what?"

"My sister was very happily bonded to a man from another city. They were perfect together."

"And do they still live here?"

His mood darkened considerably, a grim shadow flashing across his face. "They are still here," he said softly. "They are buried up on the hillside."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"The games. Let's just say they were a bit too good a team. I doubt their demise was the intention, but that didn't change the results. The incident led to more oversight in certain areas to ensure the cheating remained reasonable , but my sister and her mate are gone."

Ziana sat quietly a long moment, taking it all in. No wonder he's like this. It's not just a game for him. It's personal.

She refrained from any more questions that might veer toward that very touchy subject for the remainder of their meal, opting instead to inquire about tactical suggestions as well as the sort of madness in store for them. As it turned out, while tactics were pretty predictable, the exact events were not. There were some core factors, as was the case every year, but many of the events would be revealed to the competitors at the same time as the spectators. It didn't allow for a lot of prep in some regards, but no one could argue it wouldn't make for an exciting spectacle.

"I'm going to see how Maria's doing," Ziana said when her friend walked in.

A sharp yank on her wrist reminded her of her situation. Dorrin looked up at her with an annoyed glare.

"I am still eating."

"Sorry. When you're done, would you mind?"

"They are competitors."

"She's also my friend."

"Whatever you were outside this place, there are no friends during the games."

"The games haven't started yet."

"You do not think so? Look around. Do you see socialization among the rivals? No." He put down his utensils and rose to his feet, looming over her like an angry bear. "You may speak to this woman, but you will not share any strategic or tactical details of our preparations, is that clear?"

"Sure. I don't see what's so tactical about?—"

" Anything can be used against us. A casual comment might be overheard and lead to our defeat. And I will not allow that to happen. You may speak to her now, but once we commence that ends, and there will be no further discussion about it. Do we have an understanding?"

She didn't like the sound of that, and men telling her what to do really rubbed her the wrong way. But given their situation she bit her tongue and let it slide, just this once. She was the newcomer here, and he was the experienced competitor. Like it or not, her survival rested on his broad shoulders, and that meant she'd do what she had to in order to make the situation work.

"Okay, we have a deal," she said, waving to Maria. "Now, can we go talk to them?"

"I will not be speaking to her partner. Nor will you. Constrain yourself to conversing only with your friend, and be brief. It has been a long day and we both need to clean up and get plenty of sleep."

She shrugged. "Fine. I just want to see how she's doing, is all. Beyond that, I'll keep my mouth shut, okay?"

He nodded once, fixing his cool gaze on her hard enough to make her squirm. "You'd better."