Page 32 of A Tempest of Intrigue (Tempest of Shadows #4)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Ellery

“There has to be another sucker,” Farley pitched his voice louder as he turned in a circle. “I’ve been telling my friends that Ellery’s the best, and they’re here to see it.”

While most paid attention to him, some had tuned out his words.

“Is this establishment full of eunuchs?” Farley demanded, drawing the attention of the rest of the encampment. “Someone else has to join Ellery and Mr. Lordy Lord in this competition.”

The poltergeists tittered while a murmur ran through the crowd. “Farley,” I said in a low warning while Ryker scowled.

If he could, I had no doubt Ryker would have choked every last breath out of Farley. The poltergeist was oblivious to Ryker as he remained focused on the crowd.

“What about you?” he challenged the recent winner.

Some amsirah slapped the man on the back as they encouraged him to step forward, but he shook his head and lifted his tankard. “I will remain a champion!”

The others all laughed and looked around at each other, but no one else came forward. While some had seen me practice with a bow and arrow, most hadn’t seen the full extent of what I could do.

I suspected Ryker was the one keeping them at bay. Few of them wanted anything to do with the Scourge of the Ghouls.

“Come on, Tucker,” Ryker said as he handed his friend one of the remaining bows and a quiver. “It’s time to show us what you’ve got.”

“How did I get involved in this?” Tucker muttered.

“Three arrows each, closest to the bull’s-eye wins,” Farley declared. “Tucker’s first.”

“Who put you in charge of this?” Tucker demanded.

Farley rose a little higher and wiggled his blobby shoulders back as he puffed out his chest. “I’m the king of these woods.”

“You weren’t even king of your own shit when you were human,” one of the poltergeists retorted, which brought a round of laughter from those gathered in the clearing.

When I looked at Farley, he couldn’t hide the desperation in his eyes. I hesitated with my hand on an arrow as I studied the poltergeists.

Why are they here?

I doubted they’d tell me, and I had no idea what was happening here, but something wasn’t right.

Is there some way they can use this competition against us?

I didn’t see how they could, yet I sensed their eagerness for something to happen here. I just didn’t know what that something was.

“The guy who won the competition should be in on it too,” another poltergeist stated.

“Why?” Ryker demanded.

He wasn’t ignoring them as much as I’d believed, and when his eyes met mine, I saw the questions in them. I shrugged in response. This didn’t appease him, as his jaw clenched, and his attention shifted back to the phantoms.

“He’s proven to be the best,” another poltergeist said. “We want him in it too.”

“Of course, of course,” Farley said as he fluttered through the crowd.

The winner had a fresh tankard of ale halfway to his lips when Farley swatted it away.

“Hey!” the man shouted as the alcohol flew through the crowd.

Some danced away but not in time to avoid the spray. They all glowered at Farley, who planted his hands on what I assumed were his hips and stared at the champion. The man was still staring at his empty hand in dismay.

“Take the line,” Farley commanded.

The man closed his mouth and shifted his attention to Farley. “Well, I ought to?—”

“What?” Farley interrupted. “Punch me? Stab me? Choke me? Good luck, but I’ll enjoy a good laugh while watching you try. Now, to the line.”

“What’s going on with him?” Ryker muttered.

“I don’t know, but for some reason, this competition is important to him,” I whispered.

“Why?”

“I have no idea. Farley, can we talk for a minute, in private?” I asked.

Farley bobbed behind the disgruntled-looking man who, though it wouldn’t do any good, still swung his hand at him as if he were trying to swat the poltergeist away. Farley ignored him.

“Sorry, Lery, no time right now. No time at all. We’re here for some sport.”

A tendril of unease crept through me. The other poltergeists remained floating nearby, their arms crossed over their chests as they surveyed the scene.

I’d spent a lot of time in the Revenant Woods over the years, and I’d never seen the poltergeists act like this before. The only time they were interested in anything the immortals were doing was when they terrorized them.

So why are they so intent on this?