Marchosias glanced at the proxy. “She’s paying off a debt,” he said. “I’d give her to you as a wedding gift, but now that you’re wed, you aren’t to touch any other daimon until my daughter is breeding. It’s in the contract you signed.”

Mutely, Kaleb nodded.

“Later, if you want—”

“No,” Kaleb interrupted. “I have what I want.”

“After the last of the fights, you may go to that world for as much of the next year as necessary to get the job done—or you can bring her here and live in the palace,” Marchosias said.

“After the fights?”

“Once a daimon enters the competition, he needs to be eliminated in a match or forfeit.” Marchosias flashed his teeth at Kaleb. “I can’t imagine that a cur who thinks to wed my daughter would forfeit. You’ll fight. You’ll win, or you’ll die.”

“Oh,” Kaleb said. Sole right to Mallory was his, but he was suddenly even more of a target.

“If you die in the fights, my daughter won’t be injured. It’s a rare bit of magic, but I’ve added it to your bond,” Marchosias said.

Kaleb didn’t know what to say. He was grateful for the protection for Mallory, but he hadn’t expected to continue to fight. “I see.”

“You didn’t think you could circumnavigate the rules, did you?” Marchosias chided. “You came here asking for the prize without winning the game. You have her; now, prove you can keep her.”

Kaleb nodded silently again. He wasn’t sure of the protocol just then. He wanted to leave, but he hadn’t been dismissed. Do daimons still get dismissed if they are ruling class?

“Go on, then.” Marchosias held his copy of the contract out to him. “You have a competition to survive and a wife to breed.”

CHAPTER 25

ZEVI WASN’T SURPRISED TO find Aya outside the mouth of the cave. He also wasn’t sure if he wanted to invite her inside. Kaleb didn’t entirely trust her, and this was his home. On the other hand, Aya had saved Kaleb’s life. That earned her a lot of leeway as far as Zevi was concerned.

“He’s not here,” Zevi told her.

Kaleb hadn’t coped too well with what happened in the fight, and he’d vanished not long after Zevi had led him away from the carnival. It wasn’t like there were wounds to tend, so Zevi couldn’t insist on Kaleb staying home.

When Aya didn’t reply, Zevi nodded at the ground. “Is this ward like circles? Can you cross it without me knowing?”

“Yes,” Aya admitted. “No magic I’ve found in The City has been strong enough to stop me at anything.”

Zevi motioned for her to come inside, but he didn’t say the words that would allow her to do so. “What about outside The City?”

She gave him a wry smile, acknowledging his lack of welcoming words, and stepped into the cave. “In the Untamed Lands? Nothing I’ve found out there is beyond me. I looked, but . . . no.”

“And the human world? Anything stronger there?” Zevi gave her his most innocent look.

Without missing a beat, Aya said, “Yes, but not by much. There are older witches, but I’m able to best most of them too.”

“Huh.” Zevi swept his arm forward in a gesture of welcome, offering her the softest of the piles of hides that he had. If any guest they’d had merited the best comforts, she was the one. Her magic might have disturbed Kaleb, but it had also kept him alive in a fight he should’ve lost. To Zevi, that was far more important than Kaleb’s self-loathing at what he’d done. The first time doing something horrible was always the hardest. Kaleb might not be willing to admit that today, but Zevi had no illusions. He’d seen Kaleb’s dismay after Zevi sold his body to buy them food; he’d seen the terror in Kaleb’s eyes when he’d come very close to dying. Those were sickening too. The revulsion faded, and they kept on living. Time made even the worst of horrors seem milder. Kaleb simply needed time—not that Zevi would say that to Kaleb right now.

Zevi studied Aya as he waited for her to explain why she was there. She was different from anyone he’d spent time around. When they acknowledged him, ruling-caste women typically either looked at him as an object of revulsion or of pleasure. Aya had neither reaction. It was comforting. Like being around Kaleb is. He smiled at that realization. Kaleb had been right about her: she would be a good protector if he needed one.

Patience already gone, Zevi flopped down across from her and asked, “Why are you here? I told you he’s out, and you’re still here. You don’t want me, so why?”

“You’re refreshing,” she said with a small laugh.

He shrugged. “What do you want, Aya?”

“Come to the carnival with me,” she finally said. “I need to be distracted, and people need hints that Kaleb and I are not enemies. If Kaleb isn’t with me, you will be convincing proof that he and I are talking.”

“With or without a mask?”

She laughed. “Just you, Zevi. No mask.”

Zevi flashed his teeth at her in a wide grin. He’d be her stand-in trophy. Walking with her would be far more entertaining than sitting home worrying over Kaleb. If he were able to find a female daimon truly appealing, Aya would be a contender. Unlike the red-mask jobs he’d taken, he thought he might be able to lie with Aya without needing to imagine that he was touching a daimon he did want.

THE WITCH WAS QUIET as they walked toward the carnival, but Zevi had lived with Kaleb long enough to be used to sullen moods. They stopped at the edge of the carnival, and Zevi watched a scab pick the pockets of those pausing to listen to a wire-thin woman with beautiful long fingers playing a hurdy-gurdy. The scab didn’t rob everyone—doing so was a foolish strategy—but he judiciously assessed each listener. A few minutes passed, and the set of songs ended. Some listeners dropped coins into the musician’s tin before they walked away. The scab joined them, dropping a percentage of his take into the tin as well. The two exchanged a brief glance, enough to check if the time for moving on was now or if the musician thought they were still good for another round.

“They have a good system,” Aya commented.

“Fair, not good,” he corrected.

Since he’d left the Untamed Lands, Zevi hadn’t ever known life without cons, theft, or other less gentle ways to earn the coins necessary to eat. He could see ways to improve their system, but he suspected that the musician had other revenue streams or a protector.

“Walk with me,” Aya said softly.

Mutely, Zevi kept pace as they wound their way through the crush of people and deeper into the carnival. A lot of people believed that the carnival wasn’t the same sort of danger as the Night Market, but the only real difference as far as Zevi could see was that the vendors who were here only during the day hid their wantonness better. He tried to stay away at night because Kaleb asked him to, but he was more comfortable with the Night Market. Illusions confused him.

They stuck to the most visible parts of the carnival, pausing to listen to musicians and walking through to the matchboards where the fight results were displayed. Aya told stories of fights she’d won and plays she’d seen, and he told her about cons he’d run and books he’d read. She didn’t laugh at his text love like so many daimons would, but she did seem surprised.

“Kaleb brings me books from the human world,” Zevi admitted. “I’ve read some of ours, but books aren’t as easy to get in The City. Over there, they have buildings filled with books, and anyone at all can go in and read them. They let you take them home to read; even low-caste humans are allowed.”

The sadness in Aya’s expression was only there for a moment, but he saw it and added, “It’s not your fault.”

“What’s not?”

“Being born to the ruling caste,” Zevi said. “You didn’t keep books from me, and you don’t hurt me. Not all ruling-caste daimons are cruel.”