Eira tore her eyes away from the ethereal creatures that were the elfin to take in the greater group. Sure enough, she saw the elfin’s delegation in their rich fabrics and careful stitching. There were the humans from Solaris in plate armor and the bland style Eira was familiar with.
But neither the princess nor her elfin betrothed were with them. A deathly silence had fallen over the assembled crowd as the masses seemed to acknowledge her absence and its possible implication. The dark eyes of the emperor were a blank slate as he regarded the group. The warmth Eira had seen earlier in the empress had vanished into something unreadable.
“Your Majesties.” A man with pitch-black hair tied back into a small ponytail at the nape of his neck spoke. Judging from the bars on the shoulders of his nautical coat, he was some high-ranking member of the armada.
“Ambassador Cordon.” The emperor’s voice was surprisingly frigid for a man who the stories painted as the Fire Lord. “We were expecting our daughter’s return.”
“I regret that I do not bring our crown princess, but I do bring good tidings on her behalf.” The ambassador ascended the stairs and sank to his knee, holding out a bound scroll to the empress.
Vhalla accepted the offering, broke the seal, and read it before passing it to the emperor. Everyone waited with bated breath. Waited to see if they were about to watch a massacre for the lack of a crown princess…or if there was truly good news.
“People of Solaris.” The emperor stepped forward, eyes still on the scroll. “These are good tidings indeed.” A smile cracked his lips. Eira recognized it as the smile of a proud father. She knew it because her own father had given the same smile to Marcus countless times. “Our crown princess has succeeded in brokering a deal—not just with the Queendom of Meru, but with the Twilight Kingdom, the Kingdom of Draconis, and the People’s Republic of Qwint. They are calling it the Five Kingdoms Accords.”
“Kingdoms?” Eira repeated. “Wasn’t one of them a queendom?”
“And one a…republic?” Marcus looked to Cullen and then her.
Eira shook her head. “I’ve never heard the term before.”
“It’s something like the East used to be, I think. Back before Cyven was a part of the Empire—a government run by the people.” Cullen was Eastern and the son of a politician; it would figure he’d know.
“How strange that there’s a larger state run that way,” Marcus murmured.
“How fascinating.” Cullen leaned forward, hanging on the emperor’s next words. Eira didn’t place him as someone who would have an interest in anything beyond his scope of influence.
“To celebrate the finalization of this deal, each sovereign state will send a delegation of their finest sorcerers to compete in the Tournament of Five Kingdoms, set to begin at the start of the year 375.”
“A tournament for sorcerers?” Cullen whispered in eager excitement. He met Marcus’s eyes, completely overlooking Eira.
Eira stayed focused on the emperor, ignoring the young men.
“Arrangements for the tournament are to begin promptly.” The emperor rolled up the scroll. “It will be a celebration of unity and strength between our cultures. This will be an opportunity to show both the might and grace of Solaris!”
Cheers rose for victors not even yet decided. Eira wasn’t sure it had settled in on the people yet that they were cheering for sorcerers.
“In the meantime, Solaris welcomes Ambassador Ferro.” The emperor motioned to the elfin man currently dismounting.
He had dark green hair that looked almost black or purple under the young night sky, long and unbound. The waves of his hair didn’t hide his pointed ears. A cape was situated around his shoulders, held in place by a gold chain thicker than Eira’s wrists. Ferro ascended the stairs and bowed with a flourish that had Eira suppressing a gasp of delight. Every movement the elfin made was magic.
“It is our honor to be here, Your Majesty. I come on behalf of Queen Lumeria, with good tidings and gifts to lay at your feet.” At a sweep of his arm, two men hoisted a chest forward, placing it at the feet of the emperor. From her vantage, Eira could see gold, spices, and the most precious item of all—books—inside.
“We welcome you humbly and gladly. Come, Ambassador, you and your party are welcome at my table tonight as we discuss further details of this tournament.”
The royals and delegates alike retreated across the stage and into the palace. Eira watched until the doors closed behind the last guard. Excitement rushed through her with the force of a tidal wave.
There were elfin in the palace.
The last, and only, time Eira had seen an elfin was two years ago. Uncle Fritz and Uncle Grahm had taken her and Marcus to the ball celebrating the engagement of Vi Solaris and Taavin—the Voice of Yargen. Which, as far as Eira could find in her books, basically made him the leader of their religion.
He had certainly looked noble that night in the moonlight. Eira had been so overwhelmed by the sight of him that it had made her lightheaded. She couldn’t even speak when she had been introduced to the princess and elfin in a moment she’d treasure for the rest of her life.
That was the moment when she knew she had to see Meru with her own eyes, no matter what.
“Come on, Eira.” Marcus shook her. “We have to get back to the Tower!”
“What?”
“Wake up! A tournament for sorcerers.” She could tell from Marcus’s demeanor, he was already expecting to compete. They didn’t know how the tournament would happen, or where. They didn’t know the requirements of participation. Yet Marcus, and all his endless confidence, knew he would go. “Let’s get to Uncle!”
They raced back to the Tower. But they weren’t the only ones with the idea. A roar of noise echoed through the spiral of the Tower. They followed it down to the main entry, where every student and teacher had packed in. Eira stayed up on the walkway, looking down over the railing that sloped into the sea of people.
Cullen led the Windwalkers; Marcus went with him. The apprentices of the tower parted for him naturally in wary regard. Cullen situated himself by where Fritz stood in the center of the masses.
“Listen, listen,” Fritz said, waving his hands, trying to calm the crowd.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
Eira nearly jumped over the railing, startled. Instead she spun and grabbed both of Alyss’s hands. “You heard?”
“Who didn’t?”
“Listen, please,” Fritz tried again.
“A Tournament of Five Kingdoms. It sounds like something out of a fantasy story.” Alyss squeezed Eira’s fingers. “One way or another, I’ll have to see it.”
“We will,” Eira said without thinking. The tide of excitement was rising in her as well, washing her out into a thrilling sea of possibility.
“Silence!” A voice demanded attention, booming above all others and resonating between the chandeliers overhead. Eira and Alyss both jumped. Grahm motioned to his husband, taking a step back. Fritz might be the Minister of Sorcery, but it was his husband who really kept the Tower from falling apart.
“Yes, thank you.” Fritz cleared his throat and continued louder, “I know you all have a lot of questions. That’s understandable. I have a lot of questions. But none of those questions are going to be answered tonight.”