Page 18 of A Legacy of Stars (The Lost God Legacies)

18

STELLA

“ L iar!” Stella slammed her hand down over the cards, sending ale sloshing from several glasses around the table.

She hopped to her feet and twirled in a celebratory dance as the rest of the men at the table groaned and cursed. One by one, they tossed their cards onto the top of the pile.

Fionn, who had just been caught, gave her an indulgent smile. “It’s from the lips of a liar , princess, but we’ll let it slide.” He leaned back in his chair and applauded her celebration.

The other players looked less than thrilled. Around the table sat an older, retired fisherman named Merl, a sailor named Jackson, a Novumi merchant named Harcom who was in town to sell intricately beaded gowns during the Gauntlet Games, and Teddy’s partner from the first challenge, Reever.

Stella covered her mouth in mock embarrassment. She was trying to skirt the line between staying sober and drinking enough to be believably drunk.

Fionn’s gaze was hawk-like. The mercenary’s watchfulness rivaled her father’s. If she acted too over-the-top, he’d know she was pretending.

“She’s hustling us,” Jackson complained .

“Beginner’s luck,” Fionn assured him as he passed Stella another glass of bubble wine.

The glass was her fourth. She’d knocked one over with feigned clumsiness and dumped another in the plant on the windowsill behind her when Fionn left to get them another round from the bar, but she’d had to drink at least two glasses and she already felt the pleasant buzz in her system.

The more she had, the more the bond in her chest hummed along with the haze of alcohol. It was so strong now that her ability to block Teddy out was clouded by proximity and drink. All the more reason to get Fionn’s favor over with so she could go to the temple, have Goddess Desiree break the bond, and end her nightmare.

Teddy’s gaze burned into her. He really thought Stella was dumb enough to drink everything she was handed without checking for sedatives. Any witch worth her salt knew to check—any female witch, at least. She supposed men didn’t worry so much about someone dosing them with a sedative.

She reached her hand into her pocket and pulled out a handful of dried truth root. It was the same herb used in truth tea, but it also made a good herbal exchange for spellwork.

All magic required an exchange. Channeling her elemental magic used her body’s energy sources, which meant she felt hungry, tired, and depleted after using it and would downright collapse if she used too much. Witches who burned out that way spent days in bed recovering.

Spellwork was different. It only required setting your will, knowing the incantation, and an herb or other material for exchange. Since this spell tested if a drink was spiked with something dangerous, truth root would make the answer more obvious.

Stella subtly dipped a finger into the wine, her lips moving silently through the words of the incantation. A moment later, she released a small handful of ash onto the floor. She waited for the telltale prickle at her fingertip that would indicate something was off with the drink. Instead, her fingertip grew numb.

It was just alcohol .

She caught Teddy looking and leaned in. “You didn’t think I’d be so foolish as to not check my drink, did you? I’m not like you.”

Teddy stared down at his whiskey, realization dawning on his face. He’d been annoyed when she stole his whiskey under the guise of taking a sip, but she was checking that his drinks weren’t spiked either. He was clearly under the impression that he’d come along for her protection. It was just like him to think he was being helpful when he was actually a liability.

His tagging along was patronizing. He’d been so focused on her and their surroundings that he’d forgotten all about his own drinks, not that he’d had many.

Stella took a long sip of delicious wine, swallowing as she held Fionn’s gaze. The mercenary really had excellent taste.

She placed her glass on the table slightly harder than she should have and leaned back into her seat. “Is this truly the only favor you wish from me? If so, it’s the easiest one I’ve ever traded away.”

Fionn grinned. “For now.”

She couldn’t press any harder. No matter how restless Teddy was, they would have time to go to the temple tomorrow. Surely this favor couldn’t last longer than one day and night. If they left by noon tomorrow, they’d make it to the temple by dark and they could stay the night and be back by midafternoon the following day. That would give them enough time before the second challenge started.

Stella was concerned about the gap between events. She wondered what fresh nightmare Endros was setting up for them that required so much preparation. The tournament could only last two weeks, but he seemed content to draw things out.

Teddy’s irritation grew more urgent in her chest. Fionn seemed to sense it, too. He smirked and shuffled the cards with the skill of an avid player.

“Tell me, Your Grace,” Fionn started. “Do you play this game often, or did you just make an exception to play chaperone to the young and impressionable Lady McKay?”

“I’m not that young,” Stella said at the same time Teddy said, “She’s not remotely impressionable. ”

Fionn laughed heartily.

Stella pinched Teddy’s face in her hand and pushed his lips into a pout. “You’ll have to excuse His Broody Highness. He was over-served last night.”

Merl barked a laugh. “Over-served! As if it’s the barmaid’s fault for being so accommodating! I’ve never used that one, but I’ll have to try it. It’s a terrible thing to be wasteful with booze this good.” He held up his glass and waited for them all to clink it. “Hair of the dog that bit ya. It’s a solid strategy. In my experience, the best strategy.”

“Seems like it’s your only strategy, Merl,” Reever taunted.

The patrons at the surrounding tables broke into a chorus of laughter that suggested Merl was a regular.

“It only postpones the inevitable,” Stella said.

She looked around the pub. She’d not been to Nightmare’s Muse before because of its ominous name, but the pub’s wine selection was excellent.

“You two have been friends for a long time?” Harcom asked, nodding at Teddy and Stella.

Stella wrinkled her nose. “Oh no, we’re not friends. His Grace is just obsessed with me and follows me everywhere I go.”

Teddy choked on his whiskey, and the men burst into laughter.

Fionn winked at Stella. “Can hardly blame you, lad. She’s a beautiful woman. Even more so with a blade in her hand.”

“Yes, of course. Stella has plenty of admirers and friends. Though I must say I haven’t seen Katherine Crawley for a while,” Teddy said. “I thought for certain you would have summoned her for this. She’s not one to miss a party.”

A pit formed in Stella’s stomach. Kate . With all the stress of the murder, inquiry, and Arden’s offer, she’d managed to put their fight out of her head.

Kate’s words stung in the way only a best friend’s could. But she was wrong. Arden had shown up and explained himself. He’d wanted to make things official. Kate was the one who owed her an apology, not the other way around.

Stella sipped her wine slowly. “I’m sure Kate would have been delighted to join us had I the time to ask her before being forced to fulfill my end of a bargain. As you’ll recall, I didn’t realize we were coming to a bar when the favor was called in.”

Teddy studied her, rubbing his chest absentmindedly. He could probably feel her hurt through their bond. “Perhaps another time.”

“Perhaps,” Stella parroted. She focused on trying to narrow the funnel of their bond the way her mother had taught her. She refused to break her glare, though she felt the way the men at the table were making eyes at each other over the growing agitation between her and Teddy.

Finally, she dragged her gaze from Teddy’s and nodded to the cards. “Another hand, or have I won enough of your money, gentlemen?”

Fionn said this was only a stop on the way to her favor.

“Is this our final destination?” she asked.

Fionn shook his head. “No, we needed to wait a bit, but now that it’s dark, it’s safe to say you can finally pay your debt.”

Adrenaline shot through her blood, a thread of anxiety bursting through her bond with Teddy. Sayla’s bow, that was annoying. He really needed to control himself better. She’d already gotten so much better at the meditation exercise her mother had taught her to temper her emotions. Teddy had clearly not been as studious with learning how to manage.

Fionn signaled to the barmaid and paid their tab as Stella shook hands with the gentlemen around the table before collecting her winnings and shoving them into the pocket of her dress.

Then Fionn shepherded her outside.

“You can go, Your Grace. Probably best that you’re not involved in this next part anyway,” Fionn said to Teddy once they were outside.

“I go where she goes,” Teddy said firmly, a hand resting on the dagger at his hip.

Stella hated that he just decided for her. He could have at least asked her if she wanted him to tag along first.

“You’re making me look weak,” she whispered.

“I’m making you look like someone has your back. Besides, you shouldn’t be seen alone at night with a man of questionable character. It wouldn’t be good for your reputation. Especially considering how public a figure you are now and could be in the future,” Teddy replied, his voice barely audible.

She turned back to Fionn, resigned. “Where I go he goes.”

Fionn shrugged. “The more the merrier, I suppose, but it will be a little harder to be discreet as a larger group, not that I don’t love a challenge.”

Reever stepped out of the bar, chased by the sound of music and merriment.

“You’re coming, too?” Teddy asked.

“I go where he goes,” he said, pointing to Fionn.

Fionn just glared at him. According to the documents Uncle Evan had brought Stella from the harbormaster, the two men had arrived together a week before the start of the Solstice Festival. There was a strange tension between them that Stella hadn’t noticed before. Fionn was such a flirt. Stella hadn’t quite figured out how to tell how much of it was natural charm and how much was genuine interest.

“Where are we headed?” Stella asked.

“The docks,” Fionn said as they started down the street that led toward the sea.

The docks at night were not at all an appropriate place for a lady. Despite hunter patrols, it was a place of pop-up gambling dens, frequented by some of the least scrupulous people in Olney City.

Stella hurried along behind Fionn and Reever, watching as Fionn affectionately elbowed his friend.

They turned onto a narrower lane, darker than expected. The torches were spaced farther apart and the two nearest flames had burned out.

“That’s odd,” Teddy said, noticing at the same time she did.

Stella felt the same prickling on the back of her neck that she’d felt the previous evening a moment before she heard footsteps behind them. A rush of death whispers filled the air.

She felt the movement behind her before she saw it, ducking just in time to miss the swipe of the dagger. The assailant read her well and changed angle and Stella was forced to throw up her forearm to block. The blade cut right down to bone. She yelped as she jabbed out with her own dagger.

The man was cloaked in black, his face covered except for his eyes, but Stella made out a crest of a viper surrounded in flames on his shirt.

The Sons of Endros.

Bold of them to attack four competitors at once. The Gauntlet Games competitors should have still had a few days before their lives were under threat. Though, maybe the Sons had only said that in the hope of creating a false sense of security.

Steel clashed beside Stella as Fionn and Reever engaged with two other assailants.

She turned just in time to duck a sword swipe from a fourth attacker.

Teddy stepped forward and slid his dagger into the man’s side.

Stella refocused on the assassin in front of her. She put her hands up, clutching her blade and ignoring the burning pain in her forearm. Her attacker favored his right leg. Perhaps it was an old injury to the left, but Stella could use that advantage.

When she twisted past him, she slammed her heel down on his left ankle, and he grunted. He landed a punch to her ribs, and she sliced her dagger along his left side. Bright red blood splattered across her gauzy lilac dress. The assassin darted away from her, laboring on his left ankle. A muffled laugh came from behind his face covering.

“You don’t have it in you, girl,” he said. “You’ve got the skill, but not the will to take a life.”

Stella was terrified that he was right. She could injure him gravely, but she could not bring herself to kill him, even when she could tell he’d happily do the same to her. She’d played as defensively as she could, hoping he’d get discouraged or tired and make a mistake that would allow her to injure him enough that he’d flee. But he just kept coming.

Hot blood dripped down her arm, and she tried to keep her hand elevated so it wouldn’t get sticky. She knew the wound would heal, but it was deep, and it was still a slippery mess.

A body hit the ground hard behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Fionn take down one of the men he was fighting. If she had short swords, she could have made quick work of all of these men, but with only a dagger and her half-drunk hand-to-hand fighting skills, she could hardly handle one assassin at a time.

A fist connected with her temple, and she stumbled, cursing. Pay attention . Suddenly, her reflexes felt too slow. Panic squeezed the air from her lungs. She was going to die on this darkened street corner as a message to the people of Olney, who just wanted peace.

The attacker came at her again, and Stella jammed her fingers into the soft notch at the bottom of his throat. He flinched. The second of surprise was enough for her to knock the blade from his hand and try to knee him in the groin.

He moved at the last second, and she hit his thigh instead. He hooked his arm under her lifted knee and swung her into the wall of the building beside them. He pinned her there. One of his hands gripped her throat and squeezed.

She jerked her dagger toward his ribs, but he caught her wrist and slammed it against the wall. He dug his thumb into the laceration on her forearm. Pain whited out her vision and she dropped her dagger.

Her father’s words flared in her brain. There are only two reasons a warrior drops her blade: when she’s lost her will to fight, or when she’s dead .

The assassin’s other hand came to her throat, choking off her air. She kicked his shin, but he didn’t even flinch. Fumbling with her blood-slicked hand, she clawed her nails across his eyes.

Her attacker stumbled back, bending forward to shield his eyes and cursing. Stella swiped her dagger from the ground and slammed her knee into his stomach as she rose to her feet.

She had a clean shot at his throat, but she hesitated. It was one thing to train to kill someone. It was another to actually do it. She’d plunged a blade into an opponent’s side or arms. But to go for someone’s throat …

It was only a split second of hesitation, but it was enough for him to recover.

She watched in slow motion as he grabbed a blade tucked into his boot and shoved it up toward her chest.

Stella froze. She waited for the pain, but it never arrived.

A blade came out of nowhere and slid across her attacker’s throat. Blood spurted from the wound, spraying across the cobblestones and Stella’s boots. She gaped at the man as he slid to his knees, his hands frantically trying to stop the flow of crimson. He collapsed onto his side, looking up at the night sky, and then his chest went still.

Stella watched the blood form rivers between the stones, unable to look away.

“Stella.” A broad chest appeared in front of her, blocking her view of the body. Teddy’s hands came to her arms.

Warmth pulsed through the bond. Teddy . Teddy, who couldn’t stand her. He had saved her.

Stella was as relieved as she was mad at herself for needing to be saved. She didn’t want him to be right about her that she didn’t have the heart to kill someone.

She shook her head. He couldn’t be right. Not now. Not when she would need to be capable of this, and worse, to win the Gauntlet Games.

But what did it say about her if she couldn’t even bring herself to take a life when her own was in peril?

Teddy lifted her chin, and she met his luminous golden eyes. “You can’t freeze like that in the competition. That’s the difference between life and death.” His voice was soft but insistent.

“You think I don’t know that?” she snapped.

She was grateful for the dark hiding her humiliation. She was the daughter of one of Olney’s greatest warriors and she’d never killed a man. The assassin was right. She didn’t have it in her, and that was a terrifying revelation. She didn’t need Teddy to remind her of how short she was falling of her legacy.

Teddy lifted her arm, wiping her blood on his sleeve. His touch was gentle, his hands callused and warm against her bare skin as he held the still-seeping wound up to the torchlight. “It’s deep.”

She was vaguely aware of Fionn and Reever watching them. “It’s fine. It will heal,” she whispered. “Don’t overreact or they will read into it. They can’t know.”

Teddy nodded. “Do you think they noticed?”

She licked her lips and shrugged. “You got injured right after I did, so it’s hard to say, but you aren’t subtle.”

Teddy looked away. “I’m sorry.”

He turned to look at Fionn and Reever. “I think that concludes the evening. Whatever favor is owed will have to wait. I’m taking Lady McKay home.”

Fionn nodded, and Stella was relieved he didn’t argue.

“You had quick reflexes after all of those drinks,” Fionn said, a hint of suspicion in his tone.

Stella shrugged. “What can I say? The fight is in my blood.”

Reever watched the exchange with a smirk on his lips. “If it’s all right with you, we will just see you two back safely before we head back to our rooms.”

Teddy nodded and tucked Stella under his arm, guiding her away from the bodies. They walked down the street and waved over a hunter patrol to deal with the mess they’d left behind.

Stella was still in shock, hardly able to pay attention to the words that Teddy said to the men because her full attention was focused on seeming fine.

Teddy guided her home, a hand on the small of her back. He was silent the whole way. As they stepped through the garden gates, Reever and Fionn came to a stop to offer them some privacy.

Teddy was trying to send comfort through the bond. Unfortunately, it just felt like he kept pushing on her chest, and that was enough to snap her out of her daze.

“I’m fine. You can stop prodding me. And don’t come into the house with me. If my parents find out what happened, they will just worry more and my mother doesn’t need the stress right now,” she whispered .

Teddy blew out a breath as they came to a stop in front of the back door. He waited for her to meet his gaze. “Just because you couldn’t do it then doesn’t mean you won’t be able to another time. Don’t make this mean more.”

“I know.” She didn’t, but she appreciated him saying so. His shift in mood was disorienting. “Thank you.”

The words seemed too small for saving someone’s life, but she didn’t know what else to say. Teddy nodded, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped the tacky blood from her arm.

The wound had already knitted itself perfectly back together.

“That’s very handy magic,” Teddy said. “Thank you for testing my drinks.”

“You’re welcome.” She gestured to the blood stain across her dress. “Hopefully, I can get in and up to my room before they notice the blood.” She touched her hair tentatively. “How do I look?”

Teddy smiled softly, a faltering sort of affection in his eyes. “A little wild, but no worse for the wear. Your hair always looks like that.”

She frowned at him, and he laughed.

“Just being honest, Minyha . It suits you.”

She frowned. The word sounded Novumi, and while she’d learned an abundance of curse words in the language thanks to Alexandra’s colorful vocabulary, she didn’t recognize this word. His tone was part-teasing, part-exasperated.

“What does Minyha mean?”

Teddy clicked his tongue. “Not a scholar of languages, I see.”

Stella rolled her eyes. “Never mind.”

She made a mental note to look it up in the Olney Royal Library when she had a spare moment.

Stella glanced over his shoulder at Reever and Fionn, who were still waiting at the garden gates. “You trust them to see you back safely? It’s curious we were attacked when I was supposed to be delivering on Fionn’s favor.”

Teddy shook his head. “If he was involved, it would make more sense for him to wait until after he gets what he wants from you, not to mention that four competitors together made us an obvious target.”

Stella chewed her lower lip. “Are you sure you trust them to walk you back to the castle safely? You could stay in one of our guest rooms for the night.”

“It’s good to see you worried about me,” Teddy teased.

Stella laughed, and it snapped all the tension in her chest. “You’re an ass. Now will you please get them out of here? I’m going to use that trellis to climb in my bedroom window and change before my parents see the blood.”

Teddy gave her one last look and then nodded and stepped away. She watched him and the mercenaries retreat before climbing up the thorny trellis and into her bedroom window.

She was careful to step over the creakiest floorboards, but nearly jumped out of her skin when she turned and found Rosie staring at her wide-eyed from the bed.

“What are you doing in my room?” Stella asked.

Rosie looked her over, her eyes snagging on the blood spray on Stella’s dress. “I could ask you the same, though from the look of your dress and your creative entrance, it seems you’re trying to hide the signs of a scuffle from our parents.”

“I’m okay,” Stella said, half-believing the words.

“It would be understandable if you weren’t, though,” Rosie said.

Stella nodded and looked away from her little sister, a lump forming in her throat. “I was ready for opponents to come for me in the arena, but not on the streets.”

Rosie stood, turned Stella around, and began to work on the buttons on the back of her dress. A moment later, the stained lilac fabric slid to the floor.

Rosie gasped. In the looking glass, Stella could see her sister’s gaze on her side.

Stella instinctively brought her hand to the star-shaped scar. “I know it’s ugly.”

Rosie’s eyes filled with tears. “That was a very bad wound. You didn’t say it was that bad. ”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Stella said. She just wanted to forget the scar was there, pretend she was as whole as she’d been before she almost died in the arena—before she’d almost died in the street tonight.

Stella yanked on her nightdress. Her heart rate finally slowed when Rosie began to unpin her hair and braid it so it wouldn’t be a mess in the morning.

She’d been so confident when she headed out for the day. But now, in her room, with her sister fixing her hair, Stella felt just how close she’d come to losing everything for the sake of love.

She thought of the way Arden had looked when he said he loved her—the way he wanted to announce their courtship.

“It will be worth it.”

The fact that she even had to say it aloud made it clear how much she was beginning to doubt it.