Page 45 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

He winked. “Allies.”

“No thanks,” Roremar huffed. Why would Perry or anyone want to ally with him anyway?

“You may want to reconsider.” Perry didn’t wait for him to respond, striding toward the door to join the others. Hand on the knob, he paused. “Oh, and Roremar?”

Roremar grunted.

“As I said, Rian and Khasson seem fine to me so far. So does Devinli, the fifth man who’ll be in this room. He’s the youngest who survived today, a bit jumpy, probably not a threat. But watch out for Svalla.”

“Svalla?” Roremar repeated.

“Ritheus Svalla. The sixth man in our bunk. Hard to miss, a big, bearded bastard—and this time I don’t mean that affectionately.” Perry’s expression was entirely somber now. “He’s here to play dirty, and rumor has it, he set his sights on you today.”

“Why?”

“You killed his brother in the arena.” Perry shrugged. “I’d watch out.”

The door closed behind him, and Roremar sighed. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

He wouldn’t be getting much sleep now waiting for Svalla. He started to untie his boots, tensing when the door swung open again.

Maybe Svalla wants a fight already.

Roremar pushed up from the bed, but it wasn’t another competitor who entered. It was a fresh-faced soldier, Valyn City Guard uniform pristine. Attentive eyes flicked around the room before falling on him.

“Roremar Silventa?”

“Yes?”

He straightened, hand on his sword. “Come with me.”

Chapter Seventeen

Emmeline

“Alana, where are we going?” Emmeline hissed as she was pulled through the winding network of alleys in the outer ring of Valyn’s Districts.

She’d tried to tell Alana that they couldn’t sneak out, that Rocarri was watching and whatever it was wasn’t worth the risk, but Alana had only leveled her with a very serious stare and insisted, “Trust me, Emmeline.”

And though it meant shoving aside her baser instinct, Emmeline tried. She’d demanded they go to a tavern or crowded incense den first, in case they were being watched, and continued to check over her shoulder every step they took through the Eleventh District. As far as she could tell, they weren’t followed.

Alana glanced back, big blue eyes catching the mystlight beneath her dark hood. “A little further.”

Before Emmeline could respond, Alana slipped beneath an ivy-wrapped tunnel carved into the stone buildings and onto a wide, dirt roadway beyond. The land at this end of the capital opened up, stables and larger homes filling the hilly streets and an abundance of weeping cypher trees lining the paths.

In the distance, vineyards rolled over the land. Lit by the moon and stars, warriors danced between them, escaping the festivities in the inner districts.

Alana stopped before an iron fence at the edge of an overgrown property, crumbling beige stone pillars on either side. Ivy and tall grasses curled around the bars as if pulling them into the earth.

“Here,” Alana said, pushing the gate open. Rusted hinges creaked shut after them, and Emmeline followed her up the tree-lined path.

“I’m beginning to feel like there’s going to be another murder, but this time I’ll be the victim,” Emmeline whispered. Between the cypher branches, she could make out a stately home, all lights off.

Alana’s laugh flittered along the breeze, branches rustling. “Please, Emmeline, if I wanted to harm you, I could have done it days ago.”

“Come again?” Emmeline stopped.

Alana tutted, grabbing her arm and dragging her along. “Please, you were so distracted when you first arrived, it would have been easy. But I can’t tell you all my methods now or we’re going to be late.”