I look into Maldive's eyes, or at least where I think his eyes are, not really seeing him through the blur of the cataracts. I take my last card, the red one card, and place it on top of his black one.

The ability on the one is the most powerful ability on any of the cards.

The text reads as follows: Steal half of the horde, rounded down, of the player of your choosing.

As there's only one other player beside myself at the table, this happens automatically. Maldive’s entire horde floats up from the table and splits in half. One portion floats over to my side of the table and the other portion stays on Maldive’s. Once this is complete, both packets of cards float down and digits appear on either side of the table. Mine goes up, his goes down.

The final score?

I can't see it. All I know is that I won.

The assembled wizards are silent. Minus Dom of course. He lets out a whoop of exultation and there's a relief there that brings me joy. All I can think about is Pixie though.

Where is she? Is she safe now? Did I do a good job?

As I stare across the table at Maldive, the blurriness in my eyes gradually fades. My finger, the one still bent at a 90° angle, shifts back to its regular position. My kneecaps re-solidify.

“So,” I say. “Was that fu—”

Maldive slumps in response and one of the Illween from the edges of the chamber rushes forward. The Illween checks for a pulse and finding none shakes her head.

The announcer's gong plays in the chamber and his voice returns. “The award ceremony will take place shortly. Thank you for attending the Centennial death scheme tournament.”

There's something in the announcer's voice I don't like. There's a sort of disappointment there that surprises me.

Holy shit!

A jolt of anger ripples through my body.

I did it.

I stand up and throw my arms into the air, screaming at all the wizards gathered behind the glass, all those who'd been watching. My eyes lock onto Dom's and I spit in his direction.

Several of the assembled wizards step back from the glass in shock, hands going to their mouths like the little sheltered creatures they are.

I lift both middle fingers to everyone.

“Plenty to go around!” I shout.

The silence in the main chamber is deafening. I stare across the table at my defeated foe, at Maldive's lifeless body.

I did it again. I fought the blood wizard and won. Again.

Illween come in to the room. They sweep away the ashes of the other two contestants while staring in confusion at Maldive's body.

They glance in my direction as if I might have any sort of answer.

I shrug and smile. “I just work here.”

They don't get the joke and don't laugh.

“So,” Silvy says from my shoulder, “you did it. Congratulations. I always knew you had it in you.”

“Did you?”

“I'm sure that somewhere, deep down, there was some tiny little seed of faith. To be sure it was overshadowed by a Mount Everest of doubt, but there was still a seed. Somewhere. Probably.”

“Where were you?”

“The playing floor is warded.”

Just like I thought…

I push all of this out of the way and focus on what’s actually happened here. I did it. I saved Pixie. She'll live because of me. I can finally get Lebec off my back. I can return to Sulis. I can take Pixie back to Marist, assuming Marist is alive and free from the blood wizard.

Taking in a deep breath I watch as the doors open at the far side of the chamber. The Illween gesture in that direction, and I start heading there. I glance back to see what they're doing to Maldive.

They're following me, dragging him behind them.

“Set him on fire,” I suggest.

The Illween, without breaking stride, nod. “It will be done.”

I turn back to the door and head through. It's time to go get Pixie. Finally.

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* * *

We're back in the initial chamber where Dom put me up as his thrall.

All the wizards are gathered around, but the population of the room has been cut almost in half as most of the thralls are now dead.

The announcer steps forward, and Pixie, beside him, looks resigned to her fate.

“Thank you all for coming out to the Centennial death scheme tournament. We hope you've all had an enjoyable time. Obviously, not everyone could win this, but, as we all know, so long as a wizard wins, we all win.”

Someone steps up beside me.

Dom.

He looks at me, amused.

“You're welcome,” I say.

He merely dips his chin in acknowledgment.

Dick.

The wizard at the front continues speaking. “As you all know the prize for this tournament was this glove, lovingly donated by the Austerium.” The man gestures at Pixie. She steps forward with the pillow. “Not only will you get the glove, but you’ll also get this nice stick girl to go along with it. Dispose of her in whatever way you see fit.”

My eyes scan the room, looking for anyone who thinks this is as disgusting as I do. No one blinks an eye. Business as usual. Unbelievable.

“Can the wizard who won step forward and claim their prize?” the announcer asks.

Dom takes a step forward and I grab his arm. He looks back at me, angry.

“No,” I say. “I'll go up there and get her. You stay here like a good little wizard.”

His eyes flash with anger, but I don't care. I just went through hell to get Pixie back and I'm not about to let this idiot go and mess things up.

I make my way to the stage and the wizard there looks at me with surprise.

“Oh,” he says. “The thrall will accept the prize?”

I stare into his eyes, and he takes a step back.

“Yes,” I say. “I'll accept the prize, and the kidnapped girl.”

The wizard doesn't flinch.

I step forward and put my hand around Pixie's elbow. She's cold. She's freezing.

“It's okay,” I say. “Let's get out of here.”

“Wait!” Someone in the back yells. “She's a witch!”

I can't see who the voice came from, but a murmur goes up among the wizards.

“A witch?”

“We have to kill her.”

“A witch can't compete in the tournament.”

Most of these wizards know exactly who I am and what I am. I read the situation for what it is. If they can get rid of me, they might have a chance to claim Filigree for themselves.

Before I make it another step, the announcer reaches his hand forward and pulls back the hood of my parka. The crowd gasps upon seeing my horns.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say. “I've got horns. Big deal. You act like you've never seen horns before.”

The truth is they probably haven't.

“She cannot win,” a wizard with a long mustache says. “She's a witch. That's how she won. She simply ate the magick.”

I look at him and shake my head. “Is that right, mustache? You saw my bones break. You saw what happened to me out there. Tell me again that I ate that magick.”

The wizard swallows instead of responding, but someone else takes up the cause.

“It doesn't matter,” a woman in dark robes and what looks like a bejeweled hairnet says. “You could've lessened the blow. Maybe the effects should've been more extreme than they were. Maybe you simply ate a bit of the magick to take the edge off.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Really? I'm curious, how do you take the edge off broken bones? You’re a wizard after all, so I'm sure you're all knowing and can explain it to the rest of them.”

Hairnet sneers. “I don't have to explain anything to the likes of you, witch.”

I take in a deep breath and let it out. “So it's gonna be like that,” I mutter. I raise my hand. “How many of y'all have been to the Shadow Vaile?” The wizards look around at each other, but no one raises a hand. “What about you, Hairnet? Have you been?”

She’s looking somewhere vague across the room instead of at me.

I nod my head. “Good. Let's do it again. How many of y'all want to visit the Shadow Vaile and be left there?”

The wizards look around again, this time their confusion is mingled with concern.

“Right,” I say. “I won. Anyone who stands in my way will be delivered to the Shadow Vaile. Do I make myself clear?”

The wizards don’t move.

I clap my hands, hard and all the wizards jump.

“Hey. Dummies. Do I make myself clear?”

Several of the wizards nod, but I see defiance in the eyes of the others. If this ends up being a fight, there's no way I can win. The wizards who look upset take a step towards me and I see their hands clenching at their sides.

It's gonna be a fight. I'm gonna die. Love to come all this way just to die on an award stage. My favorite thing.

Dom steps forward, holding his hands up. “Let's not get hasty.”

The wizards look to him, instantly disarmed.

Fucking dick.

“She's my thrall,” he says, “and she's not a witch. Sure, she has the horns, but she has nothing else. She's a stick in all other aspects outside of the horns.”

He's missed a few things, but I'm not about to correct him.

Several of the wizards voice their concerns.

Dom shakes his head. “If she was a witch with all that that entails, why would she threaten to take you to the Shadow Vaile? Wouldn't she threaten to eat your magick? Wouldn't that be much more effective?”

This seems to sink in. A witch is a wizard’s mortal enemy. A witch is the thing wizards fear the most.

“I see some of y'all are beginning to understand,” Dom says.

A wizard in yellow robes with books embroidered along the fringe speaks up. “How can she go to the Shadow Vaile if she's just a stick?”

“A good question,” Dom says. He glances in my direction. “Hexana, would you care to enlighten them?”

“Not really.”

Dom's eyes flash as he asks me the same question, only this time through clenched teeth. “Hexana, would you care to enlighten them?”

“Oh, totally. Sure.” I roll my eyes. “I have a familiar. She can open portals into the Shadow Vaile. I threatened to portal y'all there because it's doable.”

I shrug.

Several of the wizards turn white.

“There's a familiar in here?” Hairnet asks the ceiling. “Come forth, familiar.”

From my shoulder, Silvy giggles, only it doesn't come out in her typical sweet, tiny voice. The chuckle fills the entire room, deep and menacing.

Several of the wizards spark magick shields, other wizards assume battle stances.

“Relax,” I say. “She's not going to kill you.”

The wizards somewhat relax, but not entirely. I still see several shields active.

“So,” Dom says, “we won the tournament. We did it in a fair fashion. If no one has any other objections, I think we'll go ahead, take our winnings, and leave.”

The announcer looks at Dom and back to all the wizards. He doesn't appear to want to make any sort of decision on whether or not Dom can take Pixie and Filigree.

Dom glances out at the wizards and sees exactly what I see.

Resignation.

They were prepared to kill me, but since Dom stepped up, they’re somewhat mollified.

I step forward next to Pixie and Dom steps to her other side. We only make it two steps down the stairs from the stage when another voice rings out from the back of the room.

It's the same voice that shouted out that I was a witch.

This time, I recognize it.

“No,” I breathe.

Dom glances in my direction.

It can't be him.

The crowd of wizards part so Devlin Maldive can step forward.