She flashed me a smile, then moved over to her previous spot along the fence, accepting congratulations from the other Volkov guards.

Vance went over and started talking to her again. Instead of ignoring him the way she had before, Katia stared up at him, a thoughtful expression on her face. Then she sidled a little closer and started talking animatedly to Vance, who was hanging on her every word.

Katia’s match had been right before mine, which was the last one of the opening round. To my surprise, a few nervous butterflies started flying around in my stomach. I handed my hat and cloak to Devon, who grinned.

“You’ll do great,” he said. “I know you will. Go out there and show everyone what you can do. Especially Victor Draconi.”

I’d never been a fan of pep talks, but that was exactly what I needed to hear right now. I nodded and grinned back at him. Then I drew in a breath, pushed through the gate, and made my way to the stone ring in the center of the stadium.

From what I could remember of Felix’s ramblings yesterday, my opponent was a Salazar guard around my age with a strength Talent who was holding a sword that looked more like a crowbar than a black blade. Even though it was twice as large as my sword, the guard moved the weapon from one hand to the other like it didn’t weigh anything at all, making the muscles in his biceps ripple with the smooth motions.

The announcer called out the guard’s name—Julio Salazar—and he waved to the crowd. Then it was my turn to step up and face the music, such as it was.

“And now making her tournament debut . . . Lila Merriweather!” the announcer yelled.

Cheers rang out, along with the usual boo-boo-boos from Blake, but I tuned those out and raised my sword high, soaking in all the happy noise. When the cheers, claps, and whistles had died down, I nodded at my opponent. Julio did the same, and we both raised our weapons and waited for the official to give the signal.

“For honor . . . for glory . . . for Family!”

The second the official stepped out of the way, Julio Salazar charged at me, lifting his sword high, wanting to smash my weapon out of my hand with one hard blow. I tightened my grip on my black blade and let him come at me, the same way Deah had with her opponent. She might have her mimic magic, but I had my transference power, and I was going to put it to good use.

Julio smashed his sword into mine, the blow strong enough to make me fall to one knee. The crowd gasped, thinking I was done for already, but it was all part of my plan. Julio grunted and bore down, trying to either make me let go of my sword or snap the blade outright, but I tightened my grip and waited—just waited.

Even as he pressed forward, my transference power kicked in, magic blossoming in my body like a frost-covered flower unfurling its icy petals one by one by one. I closed my eyes a moment, centering myself and directing the stolen strength flowing through my veins down into my legs. Then I shot to my feet, throwing Julio up and away from me.

The crowd gasped again, this time at my sudden surge of strength. I grinned. If only they knew. But I was perfectly happy letting everyone think I had a strength Talent. In a way, I did. People just didn’t realize that their magic was what made me stronger.

Julio Salazar didn’t realize it either. He frowned, whipped up his sword, and smashed it down on top of mine again, thinking that his magic, his power, was greater than mine. But all he did was make me as strong as he was—and then some.

That chill of magic grew and grew in my veins, until my whole body was ice cold and my breath frosted faintly in the air, although the sun was so bright and hot that I doubted anyone else could see it but me, not even Julio.

With the stolen strength, I threw Julio off a second time, and then I went on the offensive. Again and again, I smashed my sword into his, seemingly using the same brute strength he’d shown. Well, really, it was the same brute strength since it was his own power I was turning against him.

Julio blocked my attacks and tried to punch me in the face with his free hand, but I ducked the blow, spun away, and came right back up swinging at him. One, two, three moves later, I sliced my sword across his arm, drawing first blood.

“Winner!” the official called out, stepping into the ring, grabbing my arm, and raising it high.

The crowd cheered. Devon was clapping and yelling as loud as he could, and so were Felix and Angelo with the healers. Up in the Sinclair box, Claudia, Reginald, and Mo were all on their feet clapping and cheering, with Oscar flying dizzying circles around them.

I grinned and waved to all my friends, then turned and waved to the other side of the stadium. But the smile froze on my face. Because I’d forgotten that the Sinclairs and the tourists weren’t the only ones watching me.

So was Victor Draconi.

Up in the Draconi box, Seleste cheered, clapped, and whistled as loudly for me as she had for Deah. I wondered why she would do that. Maybe she thought I was my mom again.

Either way, Victor wasn’t happy about his wife’s enthusiasm. He looked at her, then me. Even across this distance, his golden gaze locked with my blue one, and my soulsight kicked in, letting me feel all his cold curiosity about me.

My smile vanished, and the chill I felt now had nothing to do with the lingering magic running through my body. No, the icy sensation creeping up my spine had everything to do with Victor. I wondered what sort of notes he would add to his file on me. I shivered. Part of me didn’t want to know.

I might have been invisible to Victor before, but I wasn’t anymore. And I wasn’t so sure that was a good thing.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Another round of matches was held, with the two rounds whittling the field down from one hundred twenty-eight to sixty-four and then thirty-two. Tomorrow’s rounds would determine the tournament winner. Devon, Poppy, and I all advanced, along with Deah, Katia, Blake, and Vance.

The competitors congratulated each other a final time, even those who had lost, and everyone was in a good mood as we headed to the Family tents to change clothes. I was grateful to strip off my white shirt, black pants, and black boots and replace them with a blue T-shirt, gray cargo shorts, and gray sneakers. I also belted my sword around my waist again. The person who had sabotaged the rope ladder was still out there, and I wasn’t going to be taken by surprise again.

I grabbed my duffel bag, then streamed out of the fairgrounds with my friends. The matches had taken most of the day. It was after seven now, and the summer heat and humidity had finally eased. But instead of going back to the parking lots, getting into their cars, and driving home, everyone headed out of the fairgrounds and stepped onto some gray cobblestone paths that wound into the trees.