Page 40 of Court of Talons

“You’re female, and your father was brought up to honor the ways of his father. There was no need for you to know. Your father knew me as a priest of the Imperium, however, not Protectorate born. There was no harm in awing me. And I took the opportunity for what it was, to learn of your world and its customs.”

I shrug. “Your world too.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “There are no longer any Divhs outside the Protectorate, Talia. Not in the Exalted Imperium, nor in the vast nations beyond. Not for more than fifty years.”

Vast nations?I’ve never given any thought to what might lie outside the borders of the Imperium. That nation itself is a mystery to me, a land of gold and jewels and riches beyond imagining.

I put those thoughts out of my head. “What did you learn, then, from the tales of the bards? How can they help me?”

Nazar grimaces. “Now that I’ve seen you with the Divh, they can’t, I suspect. Not completely. And I thought my information was quite good. Certainly nothing I saw in the battle here the other day was unexpected. But those men didn’t laugh with joy as they connected with their Divhs, and they didn’t drench themselves in the mist of the Divh’s realm. They didn’t immerse themselves so fully in its…” he nods, correcting himself, “…inhisworld. You did. You did so naturally, without needing instruction. From your words and your reactions, your Divh followed your lead without question. You thought a thing, and it followed.”

“He,” I say, offhandedly.

“He,” Nazar agrees.

“You’re right, though,” I continue. “Gent didn’t know my words, but he knew my thoughts, instantly. And when he was running, I knew his. I could see what he saw, feel what he felt. But that’s no different from the warriors of the Fourth and Sixth Houses. They guided their Divhs with their minds too.”

“They did,” Nazar says gravely. “But such guidance improves over time. Much time. Years’ worth of time. Not mere minutes. It will bear watching.”

I drop my arms to my side, resigning myself to being clammy for the near future. “Then I did something wrong, you’re saying. Everyone will know I’m an imposter.”

“An imposter? No.” Nazar turns and begins making his way once more across the wide tournament field. “You have nohistory with these warriors, and they haven’t seen your Divh. Merritt has been bonded for several years now to his creature.”

“Gent,” I mumble. “His name is Gent.” I don’t know why it’s important, but I say it anyway. “Who is beautiful.”

“To Gent,” Nazar says, with a trace of amusement in his voice now. “Who is powerful and fierce.” I can feel his gaze upon me again, but I keep my head down, focusing on the way before us. My wet tunic makes me unreasonably chilled, and I fold my arms over my chest, my right hand covering the spot where my tunic clings tight against my band. It’s warm beneath the wet cloth, but I still shiver.

“As long as you don’t draw any undue attention to yourself and fare well enough in the early rounds of the tournament—you won’t be seeded in the tournament proper against a seasoned warrior,” he says. “You’ll gain a few critical wins and slip through the middle of the tournament unharmed.”

I nod. “And when I do have to fight a warrior who knows his Divh and how to use him…or her? What do I do then?”

Nazar’s solemn words float back to me on the breeze. “Then you will follow the way of the warrior. You will win, or you will die.”

“Not really die, though, right?” I mumble. “No one dies in the tournament. Not really.”

Nazar, however, says nothing more.

Chapter 16

Caleb has the horses ready by dawn the following morning, but the camp still needs to be broken down. I stay huddled in my blankets as the sun clambers over the top of the spectator stands. I cannot get warm. Though I changed out of my tunic and breeches into clothes Nazar had at the ready when we returned to camp last night—even richer garments than before, soft and thick against my skin—my heart races and my teeth chatter, my fingers wrapped tight in the blankets.

“Are you sick?” Caleb murmurs to me as he walks by.

I try to shake my head, but my whole body convulses. “I don’t know,” I say miserably.

“You do know.” Nazar’s words are calm and matter of fact. “Caleb is your squire. He must know too.”

I blink up at Nazar, his form wavering in the morning sun. That’s part of the problem too, I think. My vision has never quite recovered from seeing through Gent’s eyes. And Gent is damned near blind in this plane, it appears.

Caleb is staring at me now, and I sigh. “I trained with Gent last night in, ah, secret. It went differently than I expected it to go.”

“You trained?” Caleb’s gaze swings from me to Nazar. “But you didn’t wake me?”

“You needed your sleep,” I begin, but he’s already on to his next objection.

“Youcouldn’thave trained, though. Not in secret. You would’ve been seen.”

“We weren’t here.” I pull an arm out to wave vaguely. “We were on the Divh’s plane. Out there, somewhere.”