My eyes fluttered open.

  The world was too bright. The force of the light that suddenly flooded my retinas was too strong, too white. It shone into me through an indistinct haze.

  I felt warmth all around me, a close, almost liquid warmth that buoyed and supported me. I felt weightless, I felt embraced. I swayed my head slowly and could have sworn I felt my brain sloshing around in there.

  A shadow moved against the wall of light. A window, I realized, a long rectangle of brilliance framed by darkness. The shadow moved in front of me, obscuring some of the punishing brightness.

  It was strange to feel so nauseated and weak and yet so invigorated. Even as I floated there, in the nurturing ether that surrounded my body, I could feel my strength returning.

  I heard my own voice croak, “A… pod? I’m in my pod?”

  The voice that answered me was Baltazar’s. “Yes, young lord Bloodsword, you’ve put yourself back in the pod. Or, should I say Bloodprince?”

  Even through my haze, I grimaced at the nickname. The events that had put me here would surely put paid to that madness.

  I said, “What happened?”

  Baltazar was coming into focus. He had moved away a few steps and was staring out the window, his arms clasped behind his back. He turned his head to look back at me. I had feared I would see scorn or disapproval there; instead, there was only pride glowing through a veil of solemnity.

  Baltazar said, “You know what happened. You were speaking when they put you in there. You weren’t that badly concussed.”

  I blinked and squeezed my eyes hard together. I said, “I missed with Axe-break…”

  Baltazar said, “And paid for the mistake. The mistake wasn’t missing, by the way, it was the way you exposed yourself. When Tara knelt, you should have done the same. Did you really think you were going to beat two other Griidlords by yourself? Tiberius, you’ve grown quickly, but really…”

  I said, “I had Jahefer on the ropes. He wasn’t going to be a problem… If Axe-break had hit home, then…”

  Baltazar chuckled. “But it didn’t, did it? ‘If’ is not the word of victors, but the word of the bitterly unaccepting. I can smile about it now because you aren’t dead. You not being dead means this will hopefully serve as a lesson that keeps you from becoming dead any time too soon.”

  He studied my face as he spoke. He came closer, spoke more quietly, more warmly. “You’re doing damned well though, son. Damned well.”

  I snorted. “I’ve won one Orb.”

  He shook his head, his eyes disapproving. “You won one hell of an Orb. And you’ve come close to many more. Some of these losses were by hairs. You’re right, the battle with Miami would have gone very differently if Axe-break had struck home. It was still the wrong play, still too risky, but if you keep losing close fights by inches, then eventually you’ll start winning them. The people are excited.”

  “Really? I would have thought they’d be disappointed.”

  Balthazar said, “The people love you, Tiberius. They love you enough that there’s some discomfort among the priests, and some of the nobles. You know, they overplayed their hand with you a few times too often during the Choosing. The people aren’t stupid. Well, enough of them aren’t anyway. They understood what was being done to you, the way fingers were being pressed on the scales during the contests. There’s unease in Boston, a beautiful unease.”

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  I said, “I thought you were all about order…”

  Balthazar said, “Oh, I am. But you have to break the earth to plant it. Keep doing as you’re doing, and I believe we’ll have our change.”

  Our change, I thought. I’d never signed on for his crusade.

  He said, “The priests are nervous that they’ve lost the flock, the nobles are nervous that the Green Man will have his way with the masses. I stood by you during the Choosing, planted my flag by you. The people see us as one, Tiberius. They saw me protect a common man exercising his right to contest a suit. The others are quiet. They’ve been silenced. When I pass motions now, there is no opposition. We can right this ship. Keep bringing the Flows, Tiberius, and we can set the course this city needs to be on.”

  He grew silent. His speech had been more animated than I was accustomed to from him. He seemed to have realized the same himself; his fire was showing, and he didn’t like that. Balthazar enjoyed being like a bog fire, only the wisps of smoke that penetrated the surface hinting at the heat that roared beneath.

  I said, “When can I go back to the field?”

  He said, “The priests say you’ll be done with the pod tomorrow sometime, probably too late to make the journey. You’ll ferry a supply train back with you, so you’ll need to wait until the following morning.”

  I said, “But I’ll be losing a day of the Falling.”

  Balthazar said, “The Falling will continue without you for an extra day. You need to learn that the war doesn’t need to be won in a day. The other Griidlords are out there. They’ll be judicious, they’ll take their chances if Flows are to be had. You’ll spend tomorrow at your leisure. It won’t do you harm to cool your blood. Go visit your friends, the Oakcrest girl and her Princess wife.”

  There was no thought more tempting than passing an evening with Lauren and Katya. Everything had been pressure and action. I enjoyed my little family of Griidlords, but there was an intensity to being around them, an exhausting discomfort that I didn’t feel with Lauren or Katya.

  I said, “It… it wouldn’t be right for me to be feasting while the others are on the field.”

  Balthazar craned his head back, eyeing me. “It wouldn’t be right to waste the chance! You think Chowwick and Magneblade didn’t visit with wenches when they were here just a day ago? You’ll take your pleasures when you can get them, Tiberius. War is a strain on any man, but the pressures of being a Griidlord exceed what most mortal men can imagine. If anything, you owe it to your team, to Boston, to rest when you have the chance. We need you, Tiberius, body and mind.”

  I sagged back into the embrace of the pod, the warm buoying clouds pressing up against me like a thousand perfect pillows.

  I mumbled, “I can’t be a Blood Prince… I haven’t won anything…”

  Balthazar said, “Hmmm? What’s that?”

  I had barely realized I’d spoken out loud. I said, “Nothing.”

  Balthazar said, “The people need hope. You’ve not done so much yet, no. But what you’ve done in the time you’ve had has been astounding. Let them give you a title you haven’t earned yet and just go out and earn it. They need a Blood Prince. You’ve given them the excuses they need. You won an Orb in one day that equals half of what last year’s entire Falling produced for us! And you’ve reached level 25? Is that really true? Even a prodigy would take years, not weeks, to reach that level. You’ve taken the field and come narrowly close to winning more than once, you’ve slain an enemy Griidlord in your rookie season.”

  I drifted back onto the clouds of the pod, nodding slowly, half listening, growing faint. I suddenly shot forward. “What? I haven’t slain another Griidlord!”

  Balthazar made a face of mock amazement. “You don’t know? The Indy Axe died of his wounds before he made it to his pod, the man you hit with Axe-break. You dealt a savage blow to your friend Morningstar’s forces when you did that. They’re talking about it still, in every tavern in the city.”

  I felt ice land hard in my guts. I sank back again, this time feeling sagged and weak. Why did it matter so much that I had killed that man? What should it matter? I had slain the Hordesmen. I had slain knights with Chowwick at my shoulder during that same battle with Indy. I had carved a bloody path through the charioteers of Miami. I hadn’t realized how many men I’d killed; it came easier with every life taken. But somehow the news of this death settled sickly in me. Maybe it was because he was like me, another Griidlord, and I could feel the waste of it more keenly. He was like me, he’d fought and won his suit, earned the chance to live for lifetimes… but it had been cut short in this pointless battle for the Flows.

  Balthazar eyed me. His voice grew very soft. He spoke furtively, as if afraid he might be spied having human emotions. “Tiberius… he would have hit you just as hard. He’d have killed you too, given the chance, given the need. It’s the game you all agreed to play. He knew the risks just as well as you do…”

  I just sat and stared out the window, watching the clouds lazily stretch their way across the sky.