Page 32 of Starfall

Elias

“ Y ou better not let me down! I’ll be putting all my earnings on ya for the festival,” Mae, the surly bartender at Duncan’s, threatened, waving a broken glass an inch from my face.

She tossed it in the bin and leveled me with a stare that would have any sane individual running for the door. Good thing I’d never been sane.

“I’ll do my best, Mae,” I said, giving her a wide berth.

She flashed her signature scowl and filled a fresh pint before slinging it across the wooden bar slick with ale.

Every inch not burdened with glasses or half-empty plates was sticky.

I wondered why Darren allowed Duncan’s to stay open in his quarter given its unique charm.

But after every match, my boss would stumble across the boulevard for a drink.

I’d once overheard him say “luck” had him coming here, and if he stopped, that luck would turn.

I waved to Mae and slipped the velvet pouch of coins into my pocket. Darren took bets on anything from horse and dog races to when the next rainfall would grace us. Judging by the weight of the bag, a lot of people chose poorly last week.

Patrons hastily darted out of my path, most recognizing my face from the ring, their eyes lighting up with false devotion. They idolized the violence, the show I provided, and I had enough rage to spare. But they didn’t know me . Hell, I hardly knew myself.

Shoving open the door, I squinted into the harsh sunlight. Ari and Liv were next door, probably spending all of my savings?—

“Grace!” a deep voice shouted.

My heart beat savagely in my chest. I scanned the boulevard, every muscle primed to run, that single name like a jolt of electricity shooting through my veins.

There, across the street, stood Grace’s driver. Her family’s fine carriage gleamed in the autumn light, their crest—two battling wolves—painted in black on the door.

I hadn’t seen her for months . Hadn’t held her or heard her gentle voice whisper that everything was going to work out. That she still had faith I’d one day rise and claim a place at Persh’s head table. That together, we would succeed.

My pulse soared as she glided toward the carriage, a fine shopping bag clutched in her hand.

Tendrils of her dark hair slipped free, dancing in the wind, her signature red ribbon struggling to hold it all in place.

As always, she dressed to stun: a knee-length sky blue dress hugged her curves, a cream sash winding around her waist and knotted in an elaborate bow.

She looked like a dream. A fantasy come to life. A dream I once had when no light had shone in my life.

I moved before I realized it.

Grace took her driver’s offered hand and stepped into the carriage. I called her name as the man lifted to his perch and flicked the reins, startling the handsome black steed into motion.

My legs pumped faster, I was nearly upon them, almost?—

Her blue eyes met mine through the thin window pane, a single sheet of glass separating us. Her brow scrunched in confusion.

“Wait!” I shouted, but she didn’t tell her driver to slow. She just…stared at me.

The woman who had once claimed to love me peered down from her carriage, staring at me like I was practically a stranger. I didn’t understand. Didn’t understand why she brushed me aside or turned her cheek .

I should have dropped to the ground from an invisible punch to the gut, and yet, I stood there, watching as her driver shot down a side street, townspeople yelping as they jumped out of the way.

That peculiar look in her eyes…had it been disgust? Or had seeing me taken her off guard? Even as I ruminated over the last minute, my heart didn’t pound out of my chest, nor did grief swallow me.

My reaction to the dismissal was just as odd as her trenchant stare.

Grace was gone, but I required answers. The only way to get them would be to win the final match of the festival and talk to her face-to-face. To simply understand.

The time to test Ari’s so-called magic had arrived.