“She’ll be called Spider, for the way she spins herself through the air.”

The sun just then drops below the wall. Light turns to shadow all across the courtyard like evil tidings. A shiver of cold runs up my arms.

Spider is an ill-omened name because it is a powerful name. The spider scouts protect our kingdom, and the magic that gives the metal beasts life is a secret known only to the magicians who serve the king. More dreadful yet, wickedly poisonous tomb spiders protect the City of the Dead from grave robbers and impious people who think to corrupt the oracles who guide us.

Spiders may guard tomb and desert but they are not our friends.

The other adversaries look down at the ground or up at the darkening sky, anywhere except at me. They are troubled and embarrassed too.

I am suddenly certain that Thynos and Gargaron are engaged in a game I know nothing about, one that involves lords and palaces as far beyond my common reach as the stars in the sky.

I incline my head to accept what I cannot change.

Lord Thynos departs, Inarsis walking beside him. Once they’re gone the conversation jolts back to life as everyone mingles, relaxed and easy.

“Jes! You want to sit with us?” Gira waves me over to her table. “This is Shorty, and Mis,” she adds, introducing the other two women.

They smile. Nothing feels more natural than to sit down together with the three of them as all my life I have sat alongside my sisters. Missing Merry, Bett, and Amiable gnaws like a pain in my belly, and I desperately wish they were here, but the cheerful way Gira, Shorty, and Mis include me makes my grief easier to bear.

Talon stays off by herself. The praise the adversaries throw my way is sparse, like a passing shower of rain, but I can tell they are glad to have me. People sing as they drink cups of passionflower juice and graze through bowls of nuts. I could learn to love this.

After bathing I pick my own cubicle, one near the door. I’m issued Fives gear, a long, sleeveless linen sheath gown for everyday wear, undergarments, sandals, and a worn but serviceable set of formal clothes pressed and folded. An oil lamp. A bed with a linen sheet and a pillow. All the necessities for grooming, monthly bleeding, and washing. Exhausted, I stretch out on the bed.

How swiftly fortune changes!

Everything I took for granted has dissolved into mist and shadow. That which I never dared hope for has come true. Is there an oracle at the heart of the world who whispers a fortune into unhearing ears and we never know until it is too late? Or does fortune fall at random like ripe fruit dropping when a passing wind shakes it free?

Tonight Father will lie down with his new bride and his new rank. He has made a fresh bed for his ambition that doesn’t include us.

What will happen to Mother and my sisters must concern me above all else. Just as Kalliarkos said: dedicate myself to the Fives, and give my prize money to help my family build a new life. I can make this work. I’m sure of it.

20

I wake up the next morning as an adversary. No matter how many times I say the word to myself I have trouble believing it. The curtained cubicle with not a scrap of decoration and only a small chest of folded garments and necessaries is all the luxury I have ever desired, because I am now training at an official stable. Light as air, I float out to join my comrades.

Gira and Shorty and Mis wave me over to sit with them for breakfast. Mugs of broth with flakes of green heal-all and bits of meat go down smoothly, a light breakfast before training.

“Do you like the theater, Jes?” Gira asks. “We’re trying to decide which performance to see this week.”

Shorty says, “I want to see The Hide of the Ox.”

Mis groans. “Not that again. You’ve seen it ten times.”

“A hundred times will be too few. All those battles and duels, and then everyone dies at the end.”

“Everyone dies?” I exclaim with a look of shock.

Mis screws up her face apologetically. “Oh, no, now you’ve ruined it for her!”

Shorty is a nice woman who will never be a top-ranked adversary. I am pretty sure Tana is training her to be a trainer. Shorty smirks, lifting her chin. “Look at her eyebrows. She’s already seen it. She’s messing with us to get a squawk like she just did from you, Mis.”

Everyone chortles.

I set down my spoon. “Do you go often to the theater? It seems like staying out so late would interfere with training.”

“With an attitude like that they’re going to love you,” says Gira with a laugh. “All work and no fun. We don’t train on Sevensday so most people go out on the town on Sixthday night. We three usually go to the Lantern District and see a play. You can join us if you want. What would you like to see?”