For Emily, the heroine of the Schooled in Magic series, sports were something to be endured, not enjoyed. She had no interest in playing games, no matter how magical, and only took the field reluctantly, when it could not be avoided. In this, she was aided and abetted by the previous Grandmaster, who felt that sports should take a backseat to preparing for war with the necromancers. This attitude, however, is uncommon at Whitehall School, with many students taking advantage of the new Grandmaster’s policy of rejoining the sports leagues and fielding as many sporting teams as possible.

Kai is one such student. This is his story.

I wrote this novella to be as stand-alone as possible, but it takes place at roughly the same time as Little Witches (Schooled in Magic 21) and is a semi-direct sequel to The Muckraker’s Tale, published in Fantastic Schools VI. You do not need to have read either to follow this story.

CGN

I’d like to tell you about the time I scored the winning goal in a crucial game that made me the single most famous sportsman in the history of sportsmen.

Actually, I’d love to tell you about it, but I’m not allowed. Lady Lamplighter, the editor of this tome, made it clear I wasn’t allowed to tell you about my goal, even though it would make me the greatest of the greatest of the greats. She seems to think it would be bragging – imagine, me bragging – and said that if I tried to tell everyone about it, she’d turn me into a pig. So I’m not allowed to tell you about my goal …

… or about the time I won an honour duel with a silly bugger who was too busy posturing for the audience. I’d had all the time in the world to cast a fall-down charm on his pants and then hit him with a force punch …

… or about the time I took a penalty kick that accidentally on purpose hit the goalie in the face …

… and I’m certainly not allowed to tell you I really am the greatest sportsman in the history of the world, with an ego to match …

Oink. Oink. Oink.

Yuck. Don’t ever let anyone turn you into a pig. Really. Do you know what pigs eat?

She made it clear. I’m not allowed to lie. (I didn’t.) I’m not allowed to exaggerate. (As if!) I just have to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. (I’m not going to get far.) And if I don’t listen to her, I’ll be going straight back to the pigsty.

But you know what? I am a great sportsman. And that is the naked truth.

My father was a storekeeper in Dragon’s Den. We have very little in common, beyond stubbornness and a complete and absolute loathing of those who don’t get what they have on merit. We fought like cats and dogs as I got older, because he expected me to knuckle down and work in his store and I wanted to play games. I was good at it, too. I played football in the streets, with all the other children and apprentices, and despite my youth I was pretty damn good. Was it so wrong I wanted to make a career of it?

It wasn’t impossible. Sure, only the commonest louts played street games – that was what our betters said, at least – but there were games one could make a killing, if one was actually talented. Jousting? I knew the stories of men who made their fortunes, charging around on horseback and mock-fighting their opponents; it wasn’t impossible, I told myself, that I’d have a chance to enter a jouster’s retinue and work my way up from there. Or I could move to a city and enter the arena, fighting my way to the top. It was possible …

Dad didn’t think so. Jousting teams recruited from the nobility, first and foremost, and we weren’t noble. Anyone could enter the Arena, by contrast, but the odds of winning one’s first fight were actually pretty low. I might die, he pointed out, in my very first fight. We fought a lot over that, too. I could have a pretty good life, he insisted, if I worked in the store and inherited it after him. But I wanted to reach the top.

And then my magic came in.

I was lucky. I won a scholarship to Whitehall. (Dad was so proud.) I started lessons … and got distracted, almost at once, when I realised there were magic games to play. I joined them all and worked hard, once again, to be the best. Ken, BattleBorne, Kingmaker, Transfiguration Transfigures … I won’t say it was easy, because it wasn’t, but I did well. My marks suffered accordingly, but I didn’t care. For the first time, my dream of fame and fortune looked within my grasp.

The old Grandmaster hadn’t given two forged coins for international sporting events. There were some teachers who thought differently, but they had to do it on their own time. The only sporting contest he supported was BattleBorne and even then, it had more to do with military training than our international standing. The new Grandmaster – Gordian – was different. He decided we were going to return to the big leagues. And then …

There was one hell of a scandal.

The funny thing is, no one would have batted an eyelid if they’d been cheating to win. Not really. Everyone would have understood that, even if they had to pretend otherwise. But she was cheating to lose and THAT WAS UNFORGIVABLE. I mean ... really? It’s one thing to be a cheat if you’re trying to win, but fucking over your own team? And there was a naked girl involved … by some curious alchemy, that became more important than the cheating scandal itself. Go figure.

I’m sure Gordian would have tried to cover it up, if he could, but … like I said, naked girl. It wasn’t possible. The cheat landed in deep shit and everything else was thoroughly shaken up. All the old teams were commanded to hold new try-outs, and quickly, before we returned to the league. I wasn’t too worried, at least at first. I was top of the lists, a jack-of-all-games who happened to be master-of-all. No one in their right mind would kick me off the team unless I really stepped over the line. I swaggered down to the plotting room with nary a care in the world. The team captain – Blair, of some obscure and probably fictional house – wasn’t going to give me the boot. Of course not. It was absurd.

And the very first thing he said to me was …

“You’re off the team.”

What?

“What?”

I had never liked Blair. He was an aristo with magic who also had the nerve to be pretty good at sports. And he was dashingly handsome into the bargain. But I’d never considered him an idiot. No one who’d led two teams – Ken and BattleBorne – to the top of the sporting tables could possibly be an idiot. But …

“Kai, you’re off the team,” Blair repeated. He waved a hand, dismissively. “You may go.”

I was too stunned to be angry. “But … why?”

“I need a team I can take to the big tournament,” Blair said. “You’re not on the list.”

“But …” I saw the paper on his desk and snatched it up. Seven active players, seven reserve players, a planning coach … I knew them all well enough to pick out the one thing they had in common. Half of them were magical aristocracy, the other half were related to mundane aristocrats. There were no commoners. “You picked them because of their blood?”

Blair reddened. “I picked them because of their skills,” he snapped. “Or are you daring to suggest they’re lacking?”

I glowered, then ran my eye down the list. Alyx – his planning coach – had no real sporting skills worth a damn, but she was a very good strategist and as long as she didn’t take the field herself she’d be fine. Blair wasn’t fool enough to insist she tried, when he needed her operating behind the scenes. It was a gamble, but unless he got very unlucky the odds were firmly in his favour. Probably. The rest … they weren’t bad players, I conceded ruefully, but they weren’t the best of the best. The only thing they had in their favour was …

“You’re picking players because their parents can sponsor the team?” It was hard to keep the shock out of my voice. I’d always known there were more politics in sports than anyone wanted, and there were a bunch of teams funded by the great and the good, but this was insane. “The team will be the best-looking bunch of losers on the field!”

“If we don’t look good, no one will take us seriously,” Blair snapped back. “Do you think we can take the field in second-hand crap?”

I glared. I’d worked my ass off, each and every summer, to earn money to buy sporting supplies, but half my gear was still second hand. At best. It was still in good condition – I wouldn’t have taken it onto the field if it wasn’t – but it made me look shabby and poor. I’d been taunted by a particularly obnoxious aristocrat until I’d planted my fist in his mouth. It had been so worth it.

“The team must have the best,” Blair said. “The best players, the best outfits, the best chance …”

“Shame about the captain,” I jeered. It was probably a bad idea, but Blair wasn’t likely to change his mind. No team captain could afford to look indecisive. The player rosters were probably already being posted, even as we spoke. He hadn’t even considered I might try to change his mind. “Shouldn’t you resign in favour of someone who actually knows what he’s doing?”

Blair stiffened. I saw magic crackling around his fingers and braced myself. He was a good fighter, but so was I. Let him throw the first hex. I’d throw the last one. The days when I’d been a firstie innocently trying to join a team composed of older and stronger players were long gone. And if Blair got his face smashed by me …

His position would become untenable, I thought. Probably. What’ll he do then?

“I’m not going to take advice from someone who thinks the team can’t romp to victory without him,” Blair snarled, finally. I was impressed he didn’t start hurling hexes. Or curses. I would have been more impressed if he’d picked his team for their skills rather than their family connections. “Now, get out. I have work to do.”

My anger flared. “You have to get the team through the local tournaments first,” I said, sharply. “You haven’t won yet!”

Blair snorted. “What are you going to do about it? Put your own team together and kick our asses?”

“Yes,” I said. It was hardly the first time my temper had gotten me into trouble. I’d been lucky not to be expelled for striking an upper-class student who’d talked down to me. “I’ll put together my own team!”

“With booze and hookers?” Blair laughed. “Good luck. All the decent players are already taken.”

I clenched my fists, then calmed myself and swept out the door, slamming it behind me. The bastard was still laughing. I forced myself to think as I strode down the corridor to the common room, where all the announcements were posted. Blair wasn’t the only team captain with dreams of winning the big international tournament, which meant he’d have to lead his team to victory against local challengers first. He was half-right, I supposed. The players who loved BattleBorne to the exclusion of all others had already been snapped up, but there were others. I could still put together a team. And then I could wipe that smug look off his face.

The lists were longer than I’d expected, seven teams in all. Some names surprised me … although, after a moment, I realised they shouldn’t. BattleBorne was the one sport in which we were competitive, at least as far as the rest of the world was concerned. The odds of victory – or at least fame – were consequently higher. I scanned them quickly, working out how the tournament would have to be organised. They’d be at least five or six rounds to sort the men from the boys, then select the final winner. I silently checked the listed names against my mental roster, then used a quick spell to locate my first potential players. They’d been on the team before Blair had kicked them off, damn him. It didn’t look as if they’d been snapped up by anyone else yet.

“Kai,” Mark said, when I tapped on their bedroom door and stepped inside. “Did you get the boot too?”

“Yes,” I said, curtly. Mark and James had been friends for years. They’d practically grown up together. If they hadn’t been so different – Mark was tall and thin, with dark skin and darker eyes; James was short, bulky, and so pale he looked like someone from the pole – I’d have wondered if they were brothers. “Blair kicked me out.”

“Typical,” James said. They might have been born magical – their parents had magic, as had their grandparents – but they were still commoners to Blair. “You think we should join another team?”

“I think we should make our own team,” I said, quickly. We might be able to join other teams, but it was unlikely. The captains would wonder if Blair had sent us to spoil their chances of victory. It had happened before. “If you two sign up, we only need four more.”

“What, no reservists?” Mark looked as if he was thinking about it. “If one of us gets taken off the team, we’re fucked.”

I shrugged. “If we win, we can recruit reservists before we go to the international tournament. If we lose, we’re fucked anyway.”

“Always knew you were into the weird stuff,” James teased. “The odds are shitty …”

“Never tell me the odds,” I said, firmly. James was right – they were shitty – but it didn’t matter. I knew the other teams. I knew their strengths and weaknesses. “They’ll think we’re losers. They won’t take us seriously until it’s too late.”

The thought made me angry again. I didn’t mind losing a fair match – if you’ve played sports as long as I have, losing a few … dozen … matches is inevitable – but being denied the chance to play because of an accident of birth was intolerable. Blair could have been forgiven for promoting better players above me, yet … I forced myself to calm down. I needed four more players or my plan wouldn’t get off the ground.

Mark and James exchanged glances. “If you can get four more, we’re in,” Mark said, finally. “If.”

“Yeah,” I said. In theory, you could field a team of one. In practice, not a chance. I considered it anyway, just to be perverse, then shook my head. The slightest misstep would result in public humiliation and – worse – defeat. “I’ll let you know what happens.”

The thought nagged at my mind as I made my way through the dorms. There was no shortage of younger students who’d be glad of the chance to get on the team, but they’d be worse than useless. The stories of little firsties joining a team and completely dominating players six years older than themselves were nonsensical. It didn’t happen. They were so outmatched … no firstie, not even the young Lady Emily, could hope to fight an older student on equal terms. I needed third years, at the very least. They were in short supply.

I spotted Bill and Karen arguing tactics and hurried over to join them. They’d both tried out for the teams, back before the scandal. They hadn’t done badly either. They’d just been outmatched by older students. I couldn’t be a chooser …

“Hey,” I said. “Do you want to join my team?”

Karen blinked. “What?”

I snorted and started to explain. Karen and Bill listened carefully. I saw the doubts in their eyes as I outlined what had happened, and what I planned to do. The team could compensate for one third-year student, but two …? It was going to be a challenge to get everyone working together, let alone everything else. But giving up now would mean that Blair won without a fight…

Jerry joined us. “I hear you’re looking for players?”

I glanced at him. “You got kicked off your team too?”

“I was too close to Juliet,” Jerry said. “She was the one who nominated me. And then …”

“Ouch.” I nodded in understanding. “I have to ask … did you know about …?”

“No,” Jerry said. “I still can’t believe it.”

I hesitated. I hadn’t been able to believe it either. And yet … it was hard not to feel a degree of sympathy for the lad. He hadn’t known what Juliet was doing, but it had still destroyed his chances of being on the winning team. His captain had given him the boot through suspicion alone …

And if I give him a second chance, it might work out for me, I thought. Jerry wasn’t the only student sportsman who’d been too close to Juliet. He probably wasn’t the only one who’d been kicked off his team too. He shouldn’t have his life destroyed because of someone else’s shitty behaviour.

“You can join us,” I said. “Bill? Karen?”

Karen looked doubtful. “Can we win?”

“Of course.” I puffed out my chest. “There are no guarantees of anything, of course, but we will have a chance. You have the best captain in the school and some of the best players right by your side.”

I winked. “You’ll even have the chance to become captain when I graduate.”

Karen smiled. I knew I had her. If the team became established by the time I left, it would continue without me. Karen would have an excellent chance of not only becoming captain, but taking the team to newer and greater heights. The earlier she joined, the better her chances. She’d have at least two years as captain before she had to graduate.

“I know that smile,” Bill teased. “You want in, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Karen said. “You?”

Bill said nothing for a long moment. I could practically read his thoughts. The game might be fun – and it was – but we could also lose, humiliatingly, if we took the field against a more experienced team. I suspected he was having second or even third thoughts about joining up. An established team might be able to compensate for his weaknesses and lack of experience. We couldn’t do so well.

He took a breath. “What happens if we lose?”

We become losers, I thought, crossly. I liked to win. There is nothing like the thrill of having people cheer your victory … nothing. But the crowd is fickle and the admirers cheering you one day could easily become the assholes booing you the next. And Blair will be laughing in my face for the rest of time.

“We gain experience,” I said, instead. Bill wouldn’t be impressed by my sports obsession – or my conviction victory came before everything else. “We may lose this year” – not if I could help it – “but we’ll learn the skills we need to win next year.”

Bill glanced at Karen, who nodded. “Fine,” Bill said. “Count me in.”

“And me,” Jerry said.

“Great.” I let out a breath. “I need one more. If I find him, I’ll let you know.”

My mind raced, calculating the options, as I wandered the school. The best players had already been snapped up. Taking a younger player was asking for trouble – really, I was pushing the limits by recruiting both Bill and Karen. There wasn’t anyone else who might be a capable player, not someone who hadn’t already been claimed … I cursed under my breath as I wandered past the defensive magic classrooms, frowning as I spotted Mildred sitting by herself. She wasn’t someone I’d considered a potential player – she’d come very close to flunking defensive magic, which was practically a prerequisite for BattleBorne – but … I had to admit she was ingenious. And cute.

She looked up at me as I entered the classroom. “Go away.”

I held up my hands. “Can I talk to you? Please?”

Mildred scowled. I glanced at her papers. She was swotting hard, trying to get top marks in defensive charms … it clicked, suddenly. Mildred was top of the class in theoretical magic, but right at the bottom when it came to practical spellcasting. It wasn’t that she was bad at magic. It was she had a nasty tendency to freeze when confronted with the unexpected and rarely recovered in time to save herself.

“I’m looking for players,” I said, and explained. “Interested?”

“Get out of town,” Mildred said. If anyone had ever wanted to say anything stronger, it was her right then. “This isn’t funny.”

“It isn’t a joke,” I said. “I’m serious.”

Mildred glared. I tried to see the world through her eyes. She was unpopular and isolated and didn’t have any friends, at least as far as I knew. She lacked the skills to make her peers like her, which meant she was the butt of far too many jokes and pranks, ranging from the nasty to the extremely nasty. It might be better for her if she tried to emulate her peers, but … which one? She didn’t have the ability to pull it off.

“I’m useless to you,” she said. “I can’t cast spells fast enough …”

“You’re not useless,” I said. An idea was starting to blossom. “You just need practice. A lot of practice.”

Mildred’s glare managed to grow worse. Somehow. “You think I don’t know it?”

“You also need people to practice with,” I said. I tried to ignore the flicker of bitter yearning that crossed her face. I’d had friends my entire life. Mildred … she’d had none. It was sheer luck she hadn’t found herself doing someone’s homework, just for a hint of the social contact she wanted and needed. We all needed it. “You could practice with us.”

Mildred opened her mouth, then stopped. I waited, unsure what she was thinking. She couldn’t have any illusions, not about why I was doing this. I wanted something from her as much as she wanted something from me. But … it would work out in her favour, if we helped her develop her spellcasting. She wouldn’t have to come with us to the international tournament. Even if the team lost, she would still come out ahead …

… but would she see it like that?

“The last time I was invited to something, it was a joke,” Mildred said, finally. The bitterness in her voice made me wince. I’d heard rumours … not that I’d ever paid much attention to them. Or Mildred herself, for that matter. She just hadn’t been important. “If this is a joke, I swear I’ll … I’ll do something horrible to you.”

“It isn’t a joke,” I said, crossing my heart. The threat was negligible … but I wasn’t going to laugh. If Mildred ever mastered spellcasting under pressure, she would be a dangerous opponent. “I think we could both help each other.”

Mildred gave me a sharp look. “I hope you’re not expecting me to turn into Juliet?”

I blinked. Mildred hadn’t heard? Or … did she even care? It wasn’t as if Juliet had ever impinged on her life. If I hadn’t been mad about sports, would I have cared?

“No,” I said. “I’m expecting you to turn into a fine spellcaster.”

She snorted, but there was less conviction in it than I’d expected. She had hope.

“Meet us in the training hall after dinner,” I told her, as I stepped back. “We’ll run through a few basic exercises and then start training properly.”

Mildred swallowed. “I’m really not very good at defensive magic.”

“We all have to start somewhere,” I told her. “And practicing anything, anything at all, will make you better.”

“We have two weeks,” Mildred said. “Is that enough?”

“Yeah,” I told her. I pushed as much conviction as I could into my voice. “Half of us are really very good. The other half can be brought up to speed quickly and efficiently. And then we’ll be ready to put on a show.”

And I hoped, as I made my way back downstairs, that I was right.

“Well,” Jane said. “Are you confident of victory?”

I pasted a big and bright smile on my face. I doubted Jane was fooled for a moment. Her father had been the original muckraker and his daughter had followed in his footsteps, setting up a school newspaper and breaking the big story of the year. And streaking across the pitch to make sure the story couldn’t be buried. I owed her, and yet I was somewhat wary of her. She was the type of person who could shift from being a friend to an enemy and back again at terrifying speed.

“We have a good team,” I said, trying not to think of her naked body. “And we have practiced hard for the match.”

Jane looked unimpressed. I understood. Three of us were old hands, three were young and inexperienced; one had literally never played before now. Mildred was the one who worried me the most, no matter how much I pretended to be confident in her skills. Her practical applications were somewhat lacking and it was going to bite us, hard, if we got caught by surprise.

Sergeant Wills strode past and stopped in front of us. “Are you ready?”

I didn’t look at my team. I didn’t need to be any more nervous than I already was.

“Yes, Sarge,” I said. The sergeant had taken over the task of coordinating the tournaments. I didn’t envy him. It required tact and diplomacy and a willingness to call someone out for shitty behaviour, even when the behaviour didn’t technically break the rules. The sergeant could do the latter, but tact and diplomacy weren’t in his lexicon. He’d been openly sceptical of our chances when we’d entered the tournament. “We’re ready.”

The sergeant snorted. I’d pointed out the importance of testing the winning team, whichever that happened to be, against a wide range of opponents, but the sergeant had been unimpressed. He’d countered by pointing out that my team was just too inexperienced to make a proper challenge. Six of us had been on the field before, true, but not as a united team. Mildred, of course, had never been on the field at all.

“Then go to your base,” Wills ordered. “May the best team win.”

I nodded, trying to hide my jangled nerves as we made our way out of the bunker and into the arena. The rest of the teams jogged past – they looked to have practiced jogging in formation – and vanished into the foliage. I heard a gulp behind me – I didn’t look round to see who’d made the noise – as I led the team onwards. The trees closed in around us, faint flickers of magic darting through the air. It was easy to believe we were all alone in the middle of a vast forest. It was very close to true.

“The base isn’t very well defended,” Mildred said, as the small fort came into view. It looked like a child’s wooden treehouse, a tiny replica of the forts along national borders. I half expected to see a bunch of younger children scrambling in and out of the arrow slits. “Shouldn’t we do something about it?”

I shook my head. “No point,” I said. “We don’t want to stay in the fort.”

“We could,” Jerry pointed out. “They’d have to come to us.”

“We might lose by default,” I said. “We have to take the offensive as quickly as possible.”

I stepped into the fort, checked the wards to be sure we really were alone, then took a long breath. The rest of the terms would be in their forts now, as the timer ticked down to zero. Blair and the other two captains would be planning their tactics … I told myself, as I waited for the whistle, that they’d get in each other’s way. The odds were good they’d see us as insignificant, a handful of losers playing at being sportsmen rather than serious threats. If that was true, they’d whittle each other down and give us a chance to win.

They can’t all go to the big leagues, I told myself. They’ll all have one eye on the real prize.

Mildred looked pale. “How much longer?”

“Not long,” I said. In truth, I had no idea. Each passing second felt like an hour. “The moment the whistle blows, the game will be on.”

I did my best to give her a reassuring look. It was hard to keep from thinking she looked like a walking joke in her shirt and tunic, her hair tied back in a ponytail that was already threatening to come loose and get in her eyes. She was surprisingly plump, for a magician; a clear sign, for those who knew how it worked, she wasn’t particularly interested in practical spellcasting. I hoped that wasn’t going to bite us too. We’d have to run if we ran into something we couldn’t handle.

“We can do this,” Mark said. “We can!”

I nodded, allowing my eyes to drift from player to player. Mark and James looked professional. Bill and Karen looked a little more nervous … I tried not to notice how well Karen filled out her tunic. Jerry … seemed completely calm and composed. I hoped that was a good sign and not proof he’d already given up, deciding to accept whatever happened rather than struggling to the last. I hoped … I shook my head. We’d trained hard in the last two weeks, making mistakes during training we hopefully wouldn’t make on the tournament ground. We’d done everything we could …

The whistle blew. It was on.

“Go, as planned,” I ordered. “And keep your heads down.”

BattleBorne rules are relatively simple. There are four teams within the arena, a patch of fenced and warded wilderness on the far side of Blackhall. Each team has the same objective: hunt down and take out – immobilise – the other teams, with the goal of being the last team still on the field. Basically jousting, but with magic. If you get taken out – frozen, turned into something, put in a trance – you’re not allowed to free yourself, but your teammates can free you. (It’s considered bad form to free members of another team, although it has been known to happen.) Simple rules, allowing for a considerable degree of cunning, treachery and brute force. I’d witnessed games where one player was put in a trance and ordered to take out their own teammates. Perfectly legal, if it worked.

And when it didn’t, the spellcasters became laughingstocks, I thought. They never quite got over it.

I pushed the thought aside as we hurried into the foliage, moving as quickly and quietly as we could. There were three other teams in the field, all of whom would be spreading out to hunt down their enemies. I didn’t dare risk such a tactic myself. My team wasn’t anything like practiced enough to bring it off. I had to keep my people close together, where we could cover each other, and do our best to stay out of trouble until the other teams weakened themselves. Blair might have been very sarcastic, when he’d heard I really was taking the field, but he wasn’t going to waste time hunting us when there were two other – and far more capable – teams in the field. If he lost badly, he could kiss his dreams of international tournaments goodbye.

Mildred groaned as we squelched through the mud. “Do we have to …?”

“Yeah,” I hissed. I had no idea where she’d grown up, but clearly it didn’t involve farming or playing in the gutters with the other snipes. I’d never had any qualms about coming home covered in mud. It was better to be dirty than caught and taken out of the game. “And keep your voice down.”

I gritted my teeth as we slowed, half-hidden within the foliage. The landscape was supposed to be neutral, and there were no dangerous plants within the arena, but the groundskeepers had a nasty habit of shifting and replanting trees and bushes, seemingly at random. It had taken us longer than it should to realise what they were doing, I recalled. We’d thought we knew the ground like the backs of our hands. Clearly, we’d all been wearing gloves.

It makes sense, I told myself. If we go on to the big leagues, we won’t know anything about their arena.

Time ticked by, slowly. I felt a shiver running down my spine. Mark and James were holding together well, as was Jerry, but Bill and Karen looked as if they wanted to get up and charge while Mildred appeared to want to be somewhere – anywhere – else. I didn’t blame them. Waiting was never easy, even if it was the best tactic. Blair and his team – and the rest – were fighting each other right now, snapping off spells to take out the opposition as quickly as possible. Whoever won would come looking for us … they’d have no choice. If time ran out before we lost a single player, we might win without lifting a finger. I wondered, idly, what Sergeant Wills would think of it. We might have won, perfectly and legally, but it would still leave a foul taste in his mouth.

Something cracked, up ahead. I froze. It was possible – just possible – it was a wild animal … no. It wasn’t likely. Someone was advancing towards our position, someone trying to be stealthy and yet … I glanced at my team, noting how many seemed scared now the enemy was closing on us. I hoped they didn’t know we were here. They were trying to be quiet, but we weren’t moving at all. Their tracking spells weren’t supposed to work very well in the arena …

“Brace yourself,” I hissed, pitching my voice as low as possible. “Ready the spells. The moment you see him, hex him.”

The rustling sound grew louder. Something really was coming towards us. I felt my magic spike, the spell ready to go the moment the person came into view. The wind shifted, blowing around us … I thought I sensed magic in the air, an instant before the figure appeared in front of us. I blinked, surprised. A dog? There were no large animals within the arena and …

Mildred hexed it. The dog froze and toppled over.

“Hey,” Bill said. “You didn’t have to …”

The foliage seemed to explode with magic. I threw myself down as a wave of spells flashed over my head. Bill froze, hexed into immobility; I cursed as I hastily freed him, only to see him frozen again a second later. Someone had been clever, part of my mind noted as I snapped orders for everyone to start crawling backwards. They’d turned one of their teammates into a dog, then sent him out to look for us. Who’d come up with that? It wasn’t Blair. We’d been on the same team and he’d never mentioned anything like that to me. He would have, I was sure. He wasn’t the kind of person who could resist a chance to gloat over his own cleverness.

“Come on,” I hissed at Mildred. She was kneeling on the ground, so still I thought for a moment she’d been caught too. “We have to move!”

I caught her arm and pulled. It broke her out of her trance, forcing her to crawl backwards with me. The enemy were pushing forward with grim determination, sending illusions ahead of themselves to draw our fire. It would have fooled me if I hadn’t seen one of them walk right through a tree. I snapped off a pair of spells of my own, trying to slow them down a little. It didn’t work. They just kept coming … who did they think they’d caught? Hell, which team were they?

My eyes narrowed. Something wasn’t quite right …

Magic flared, again. I blinked in shock as spells hurtled towards us from the other side … what? Had we somehow wound up caught between two teams? James raised his hand and cast a flurry of stunning spells, only to find himself targeted by at least five or six enemy players. James was good, very good, but all it took was one spell getting through his defences to put him out of commission. A wave of seeking spells were rushing towards me, making it harder to cast any spells without drawing them onto me. We were down two players and yet we’d barely laid eyes on the enemy.

“Move,” I snapped, pointing the others north. There was a stream there we could use for cover … I hoped. The groundskeepers could have redirected it too, if they were prepared to invest the time and magic. “Don’t stop for anything!”

Karen screamed, her hands clawing at her eyes. I swore. A blinding spell … that was dirty pool, even though it was technically legal because it wasn’t actually illegal. Technically … whoever had cast that spell would still be in deep shit. Sergeant Wills had never been impressed by rules lawyering and he’d probably order the caster thrashed … if the asshole was lucky. I gritted my teeth, then cast a locomotive spell of my own at the ground. The mud heaved, then arced up in a tidal wave and flew at the enemy position. They’d be drenched in mud … I hoped, vindictively, that I’d accidentally picked up and thrown a stone too. The thrashing would be so worth it.

I grabbed Karen’s arm. She hit out at me, striking my face. “It’s me,” I snapped, as more spells flashed after us. We really had been caught in the middle. “Hold still.”

I cursed the caster under my breath as I tried to undo his hex. Never mind the sergeant. I was going to pummel him senseless when I figured out who it was. Blinding spells were nasty, all the more so because the victim could easily hurt themselves while trying to get it off. Karen was lucky she was a magician. I’d seen the spell used, back in my childhood, to put mundanes – powerless mundanes – in their place. It had always been effective. Grown men could be reduced to sobbing children by a simple spell a mere firstie could cast …

Blue light flicked over her body. She froze, bound in place by a carefully constructed set of hexes that would take several moments to remove, moments I didn’t have. I cursed again and muttered a quick apology, turning and running into the foliage. She’d be safe enough, just out of the match for the moment. She wasn’t going to be pleased, afterwards, but what choice did I have? We were bleeding players like mad. If I was lucky, I’d have a chance to slip back and free her – and the others – before time ran out.

“They sniffed us out,” Mark said. He and Jerry were sheltering Mildred, who was casting a handful of deflection spells. She looked as if she was on the verge of fainting. “Damn them. That was clever.”

I nodded, curtly. “This way,” I ordered. There’d be time for a debate over what we’d done wrong – and they’d done right – later, after the game. “We have to hurry.”

Mildred looked unwell as we staggered onwards, the sound of spellcasting behind us fading away. I hoped that was a good sign, but … something was wrong. My mind turned the question over and over again, unsure what was really happening. I could buy one team ambushing us – the transfigured dog trick had been clever, and I’d never even considered the possibility – but two? Had we gotten really unlucky? Or …

The ground seemed to explode in front of us. I threw myself down as another volley of spells flashed overhead, then cast a shield as best as I could. The barrier wouldn’t last long – I’d be astonished if it stood for more than thirty seconds – but it would give us a moment to catch our breath and react. Jerry was already casing spells of his own, aiming them over the barrier and …

… a spell caught him in the back.

I swore out loud as he melted into a worm. There was no time to counter the spell … Mark grabbed Jerry and carried him as we tried to get out of the second ambush, only to be caught himself a moment later. Mildred was crawling on her belly, moving as fast as she could … it wasn’t fast enough. An invisible force billowed out of nowhere, caught her by the legs and yanked her into the air. She screamed as the force started tugging at her shirt, trying to expose her breasts.

Raw anger shot through me. I charged forward, wrapping myself in a wave of pure magic and casting spells as if there was no tomorrow. Two players fell, stunned; the others opened fire on me, raining spells on my magic until it started to splinter. Mildred’s yells cut off, abruptly, as my defences failed, a final spell locking my body solid. I tumbled forward and hit the ground, the impact driving me into the mud. It was over.

That bastard, I thought. I’d missed the signs earlier – it had been inconceivable – but now it was all too clear. He got all three teams to gang up on us.

I was shocked. Blair was an asshole, but … that sort of asshole? It was cheating … wasn’t it? I’d read the rules from cover to cover and honestly, there was nothing preventing a temporary alliance between two teams, but three? He had gotten three teams to do it, I was sure of it. Two to catch us between them and the third to ambush us when we fled. He knew me well enough, too, to guess which way I would go. We’d been teammates for years.

Despair washed over me. We’d lost, badly. We were going to be the laughingstocks of the school. And if we lost the second match, my dream was done.

“Well,” Sergeant Wills said. “That was an interesting disaster, wasn’t it?”

I tried not to glower at him. We’d been left in the arena, unable to move, until the three remaining teams had whittled themselves down to one. The sergeant and his crew had tracked us down, freed us from the binding spells and directed us back to the common room, where hot chocolate and biscuits were waiting. I’d been in too black of a mood to appreciate his consideration. The only upside to the whole affair was the announcement that Drusilla had been kicked off Blair’s team and put in the stocks. Apparently, she’d been the one who’d cast the blinding spell.

Blair probably had to dismiss her on the spot, I thought. The sergeant might have done worse to him if he hadn’t, pointing out that the team captain was responsible for his players. But she won’t suffer any worse consequences … will she?

I scowled. A week in the stocks could be nightmarish, if one happened to be a poor and friendless commoner, but Drusilla was an aristo who had a small army of cronies and supplicants. They’d probably surround her, just to make sure her stay in the stocks wasn’t any more uncomfortable than strictly necessary; anyone who tried to hurl rotten fruit or eggs or anything else would be driven away, then have their names noted for later revenge. I suspected it wasn’t going to do her any favours in the long run, but who knew? The experience might be good for her.

“Blair won,” Sergeant Wills continued. “He had four players in the field when the other three teams were wiped out. The remaining …”

My mind raced as he blathered on, telling us what we already knew. Blair had won. He’d earned so many points that he’d have a clear shot at victory, unless he lost the second match so badly his score plummeted back down to single digits. The other two teams hadn’t done too badly, although … I looked at the two captains and knew they wouldn’t be signing up with Blair again, not like that. He hadn’t quite knifed them in the back, but from his victory it was fairly clear he’d positioned himself for the endgame. It would have been quite impressive, I conceded sourly, if he hadn’t won against me.

Sergeant Wills cleared his throat. “Kai? Are you paying attention?”

“Yes, Sarge,” I lied. A titter ran around the room. “We lost.”

“Quite,” Sergeant Wills said, coldly. “Your team will take part in the third match, unless you wish to back out.”

“Better had,” Blair called. “You don’t want to embarrass yourself again, do you?”

The titters grew louder. I clenched my fists. Blair had a face in need of a fist and … I bit down, hard, on that impulse before it overwhelmed me. The sergeant would not be amused if I smashed my fist into Blair’s face and …

“If you win, you’ll still have a chance to come out ahead,” Sergeant Wills said. “But you’ll have to win by a quite considerable margin.”

I nodded, sourly. The points scoring system was arcane – no one knew why; the joke was that the original rulebook had been lost long ago – but we needed to up our score by a lot next game or we could win and yet lose by not having enough points to proceed to the final match. Blair would never shut up about it, damn him … I wondered, idly, if he’d try to poach one of my players to replace Drusilla. It would be one more knife in the back for me.

“Good,” Sergeant Wills said. “You may go.”

“And don’t come back,” Blair called. His team brayed like mules. “You lose like that again, you’ll be naming your team the Losers!”

I gave him a completely sweet, completely fake, smile, then led the way out. Jane was standing outside, writing in her notebook. The Whitehall Times would have a full analysis of the match tomorrow, if I was any judge. I wondered who she’d get to write it. She had quite a bit in common with Mildred, starting with the fact she’d little real interest in games. I hoped she chose well. Asking Blair or any of the other team captains to write the analysis would not end well.

“That could have gone better,” I said, once we were in a meeting room and the door was firmly closed. “But we did better than I feared.”

“Hah,” Karen said. Her eyes looked as if she’d come off worst in a fistfight. The sergeant had done what he could, but there were limits. “We got our asses kicked.”

“Yes,” I said. There was no point in trying to pretend otherwise. “But we would have done better if they hadn’t ganged up on us.”

Jerry scowled. “How the fuck is that not cheating?”

“It’s technically legal,” I told him. “But it won’t happen again.”

Mildred raised her head and looked at me. “How can you be sure?”

I took a moment to consider my answer carefully. Mildred wasn’t a natural sportswoman. I was surprised she hadn’t already thrown in the towel and quit, after Blair – I was sure it had been Blair – had threatened to strip her on the field. He wouldn’t have taken it all the way – he’d be lucky if he was merely expelled, when the Grandmaster found out – but she had to have found it terrifying. The people who spoke in awe of Jane streaking across the field would be laughing at her, damn them.

“Blair talked the other two captains into it, somehow, but he also positioned himself to take advantage of our defeat,” I said. It reminded me of Conquest, where a skilful player could work with his allies one moment, all the while preparing to turn on them when his enemies were wiped out. Blair might have played it too. “He used us to weaken them as much as he used them to wipe us out.”

“So what?” Jerry glared at the blank wall. “We got fucked. We can’t win!”

“Next time, we go after Blair and kick his ass first,” Mark said. “Why don’t we try to ally with the others?”

“Because no one wants to ally with a loser,” Mildred said. Her voice dripped bitterness and regret. I understood, suddenly, why she’d stuck with us. We were probably the first people who’d willingly spent any time with her. “We lost, badly. They won’t work with us when they think we’ll drag them down.”

“So we forget victory and concentrate on making sure Blair loses,” Mark said. “Fuck him.”

“That’ll earn us a bad reputation,” I said. “I have one year left at school – Karen and Bill have three. We don’t want to go down in history as spiteful bastards.”

“And he’ll go down in history as a cheating son of a bitch,” Jerry muttered.

“It’s only cheating if you lose,” I pointed out. “And really, no rules were broken. He just … came up with a clever interpretation and put it into action.”

Mildred looked cross. “Can we win? I mean, can we earn enough points to get into the third match?”

“Yes,” I said.

“In theory,” Mark added. Bastard. “In practice … I don’t know.”

I rubbed my nose. Each team played two matches. The four teams with the highest points went on to play the third match, with a slightly different set of rules. The winner of that match would be on their way to the big leagues, giving the team captain all the influence he needed to recruit players from the beaten teams. I’d hoped to reach that spot myself, but … I ran through the calculations, mentally checking and rechecking the figures. Our only hope was to win so decisively we got almost all the points.

Which isn’t going to happen, unless the other teams just roll over for us, I thought. Blair had the money and contacts to bribe the enemy teams. There’d been a lot of horse trading before the match or I was a monkey’s uncle. Who knew what Blair had offered them? It was certainly nothing I could match. What am I supposed to offer that they can’t get for themselves?

It wasn’t a pleasant thought. Blair would be wise to tone down the bribery as much as possible – if he bribed his way to the big leagues, he’d lose his first international match – but he could still use what he had to give him an edge. I wanted to think he’d weaken himself to the point he’d lose as badly as I had, yet … it wouldn’t happen in time to save me. It would be great to point and laugh from the sidelines, but it wouldn’t be anything more than petty spite. It wouldn’t make me a sporting champ.

“I’ll give it some thought,” I said, clearing my throat. “The rest of you, go get some dinner and rest. We’ll practice more tomorrow afternoon.”

“Evening,” Karen said. “Some of us need to keep up our grades.”

I pretended to be shocked. “Are you … are you saying there’s something more important than sports?”

Karen met my eyes. “What are the odds of any of us – anyone at this school – going on to a sporting career?”

“Never tell me the odds,” I said, firmly. “And I’ll see you all tomorrow evening.”

Mildred stayed, as the rest of the team filed out. I wondered if she wanted to give me her resignation now that we were alone, rather than doing it in front of the entire team. She might enjoy having friends, or at least people who hung out with her, but she’d been publicly humiliated in front of the entire school. Again. I knew people who couldn’t possibly match her at theoretical magic, yet constantly tormented her with childish hexes and jinxes. I didn’t understand it. She was capable enough to protect herself, surely? And yet she was the only older student who was regularly harassed by younger students.

“I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her gaze. “I let you all down.”

“You lasted longer than some,” I said. I wasn’t sure how to deal with her. Every last player I knew was arrogant as hell … and half of them deserved it. The others generally made fools of themselves, if they didn’t piss off their teammates to the point they were kicked off the team. “I never expected Blair to do that.”

I ground my teeth in frustration. Blair wasn’t a bad tactician. He’d done pretty well, first in convincing everyone to gang up on us and then knifing his former allies in the back. I’d come up with pretty good tactics myself, but they hadn’t worked against all three enemy teams. Somewhere, Blair was laughing … if he wasn’t shielding Drusilla against her enemies. I doubted it. Blair wasn’t known for being loyal to anyone. Perhaps I could use it against him.

But I have nothing to offer, I thought. There was no point in making noises about offering players a place on my team if it was worthless. What can I give them?

Mildred took a breath. “Can I trust you?”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Can I trust you to keep a secret?” Mildred didn’t meet my eyes. “I … I have something that might help, but I need you to keep it a secret.”

I hesitated, my mind racing. If there was one thing that had been drummed into my head, as the son of a merchant and a student of magic, it was to be careful what you promised. I found it hard to imagine Mildred telling me something that would make me regret keeping it a secret, but people could surprise you. There was one girl, down in Dragon’s Den, who … I put that thought out of my head. Mildred wasn’t going to ask me anything like that … probably. Sure, there might be stories of girls looking for boys to help them lose their virginities, but most of those stories were made up by teenage boys. They were about as real as Blair’s sense of human decency.

“I will,” I promised, hoping I wasn’t making a terrible mistake. “What is it?”

Mildred waved her hand in the air, casting a pair of privacy wards. Strong wards. I was mildly impressed – and perplexed. If she could do that, she could defend herself against younger assholes … couldn’t she? I knew how to deal with bullies. One good beating and the bully backed off, two and the bully never bullied anyone again. The trick was to give the bastard the first beating.

“I’ve been working on chat parchments,” Mildred said, carefully. “Do you know how they work?”

“I understand the basic theory,” I said, puzzled. Mildred hadn’t invented them. Everyone knew how to make at least a basic chat parchment. “Why is that a secret?”

Mildred hesitated, noticeably. “I was trying to figure out how to improve them,” she said, after a long moment in which I could see her arguing with herself. “There’s a way to cast spells through the chat parchment, to get them through wards and other protections … provided the parchment is already inside the protections. I was working on ways to improve the process, to the point I could … I could channel magic through the parchment from a safe distance. And … I had a working set of spells when you convinced me to join you.”

My eyes narrowed. “You can make it work …?”

I understood, suddenly. Mildred had no friends, no allies … I suspected her family didn’t have any political or magical power. No wonder she was so careful. I could take her technique and tell the world it was mine, daring her to prove otherwise. It might not work, if the right people started asking questions, but how could she rely on it? She couldn’t. She might lose everything if I stole her work and called it mine.

“I see,” I said, carefully. I had no interest in becoming a charmsmaster, or things might have been different, but … I didn’t see her point. “Why do you think we can use it? We’re not allowed to bring parchments onto the field.”

“It doesn’t have to be a parchment,” Mildred told me. “Parchments work because people write messages on them, which are then sent to the reader. The parchments are actually entangled together, so what is written on one appears on the other … but it doesn’t have to be a parchment. I could do it with a tunic.”

“Right,” I said. “This isn’t going to help us …”

I stopped, dead. “You’re saying you can cast spells through the parchment … through whatever we entangle into the spell?”

“Yes,” Mildred said. “It should work.”

“Should?” I raised my eyebrows. “Didn’t you test it?”

Mildred coloured. “I had no one to test it with.”

“We’ll test it now,” I said. I didn’t hesitate. Mildred was a teammate, and you looked out for teammates. “And if it works …”

I smiled, broadly, as we left the chamber and headed up to the dorms. The technique might fail, but if it worked … I didn’t think we’d be breaking any rules. There were limits on what we were allowed to take into the arena – I recalled friendly matches that had been ruined by creative attempts to get around the rules – but none of them banned entangled objects, particularly if both sides of the entanglement were inside the arena. It could certainly be debated, unlike permanently harming or killing members of the other team. If it worked …

My smile grew wider. We could give the enemy one hell of a shock.

We might lose, I thought. But at least they’ll remember us.

A shadow detached itself from the wall as we approached. Blair. I stepped forward, motioning for Mildred to stay behind me. The bastard looked gleeful … I was surprised he wasn’t in the town, partying with his teammates and other cronies, if he wasn’t taking care of Drusilla. It was unwise for magicians to drink heavily – or at all – but sports teams tended to drink heavily after matches and to hell with the consequences. They also tipped heavily, which made up for vomiting, groping, and forced transfigurations. Or so everyone said.

“Well,” Blair said. “How’s your ass feeling after that kicking?”

“Oh, very witty,” I said, dryly. “You overpaid whoever slipped you that line.”

Blair snickered, then leered at Mildred. “Coming up to celebrate with your teammate?”

I clenched my fists. One solid punch and he’d be nursing a broken nose for a few hours before the healer fixed it. Or … one kick in the right place and there’d be no hope of having kids …

“What do you want?” It crossed my mind to wonder if he’d planned to ambush Mildred. It was possible. “We have work to do.”

“Work,” Blair repeated. “Studying biology, are we?”

He snickered, again. I met his eyes, silently daring him to push me one more time. “What do you want?”

“Juliet is gone,” Blair said. “And I am tipped to be her replacement. Here’s a tip – resign now, give up your team and stop wasting everyone’s time. You’re just clowning around while some of us are going to the big leagues.”

“Juliet is gone,” I agreed. “But there’s no guarantee you’ll take her place.”

“There is, if I win the tournament,” Blair said. “I don’t have to go to the big leagues to take her place.”

He strode past us, then stopped. “Sure, keep wasting your time if you wish,” he said. “But you’ll just get your asses kicked again.”

I watched him swagger down the corridor. His butt made a very tempting target. I deserved a medal for not hexing him in the back.

Mildred caught my arm. “What was he doing here?”

“He just wanted to taunt us,” I said, keeping my earlier thought to myself. “And I guess that means he’s scared.”

And I hoped, as we slipped into the spellchamber, that I was right.

“You don’t stand a chance,” Darrell called. “Give up now and save time.”

I kept my face impassive. Darrell and I had been lovers, once upon a time, before a particularly nasty breakup. We’d been good together – she had curly brown hair, a toned body and a mischievous sense of humour – but … we’d also been too competitive, even with each other, for our own good. She was now a team captain and I knew she wouldn’t show us any mercy, not when everything hinged on her team scoring enough points to take them to the finals. The only upside was that she was unlikely to collaborate with Blair. He’d been an asshole to her a long time before she’d come into her own.

“We’ll surprise you,” I said, trying to project an air of confidence. We’d spent the last two weeks practicing intensively, working out all the kinks in our plan before we took it onto the field, but I knew something could easily go wrong. Our plan might not survive contact with the other team. They had plans of their own. “Watch your back.”

Blair swaggered over. “I’ll pay money to watch your back,” he said to Darrell. “It looks good in your tunic.”

I had to admire his nerve. Darrell was physically strong as well as magically powerful. Blair might be stronger in body, but all his strength would avail him nothing if Darrell kicked him in the balls or hexed him into a toad before he could react. Of course, she’d have to turn him back from being a toad before she turned him into one … I hid my amusement at that thought as Blair turned to smirk at us. He looked confident. I supposed he had reason to be.

“You don’t stand a chance,” he said, echoing Darrell’s earlier words. “Give up now and we’ll spare you.”

I made a big show of rolling my eyes. If we quit the field now, before we were even in it, we’d be done. There’d be no second chance to win enough points to proceed to the finals. We’d do better by walking onto the field and standing still, waiting to be taken out of the game. It wasn’t going to happen, of course. I smiled instead as Ham – the fourth and final captain – led his team into the bunker. They looked wary. Like us, they’d got the lowest score in their last match. I suspected that meant they’d spent the last few days trying to come up with something new, just like us.

Shame we can’t cooperate, I thought. It would definitely change things if we stood together against the other two.

The thought was tempting. Blair and Darrell hated each other. She’d like nothing more than the chance to pay him back for his remark, proving her supremacy on the playing fields rather than moaning to the staff about sexist remarks. It was the only way she’d come out ahead. I could easily envisage the two teams going at it hammer and tongs, leaving Ham and I to pick up the pieces afterwards. But it wasn’t going to happen. Ham needed to come out ahead, just like us. He’d expect a knife in the back as soon and Blair and Darrell were wiped out and he’d be right. It was exactly what I’d do.

Because winning is everything and looking like a sad pathetic wanker is a positive bonus, I thought, recalling Professor Thande’s snide dismissal of our request for his sponsorship. We can’t afford to come out second, let alone third or fourth, and neither can he.

Blair winked at me. “You want to put a bet on the match? You win, I serve you dinner in fancy dress. I win, you serve me.”

“I always knew you were into the weird stuff,” I said, snidely. The loophole was so wide I could have taken an entire fleet of galleons through it. He’d wear a costume instead of a woman’s dress. I was surprised he wasn’t trying to say it to Darrell. The bastard would love the idea of her playing at being a waitress and waiting on his table … “I think …”

“Attention,” Sergeant Wills said, striding into the bunker. His voice dripped natural authority. My jaw snapped closed. I owed him one. It would have been hard to turn down the bet and harder still to keep my side, if my team lost. “I want a good clean match, so behave yourselves!”

I think you’re in the wrong line of work, I thought, as the rest of the team lined up behind me. If we lose, we’re cheaters; if we win, we’re heroes.

The door snapped open. “May the gods defend the right,” the sergeant said, pointing a finger at the clock. “Go.”

I glanced at my team, then jogged out of the bunker and down the path to the base. There was no point in hurrying. The bell wouldn’t ring for ten minutes, more than long enough to get to the base and set up before time ran out. Sweat prickled on the back of my neck as the sun beat down, a grim reminder of just what would happen if we lost. It would be the end. Even coming in second would fuck up my dream. Sure, I might be happy – in a spiteful kind of way – if Blair came third or fourth, but it wouldn’t suit me. I wanted to be great.

“We’re ready to cast the entanglement spells,” Mildred said. She sounded faint, even though it had been her idea. She’d actually wanted to give me the credit … privately, I suspected she was afraid of the consequences if we staked everything on her spells and lost. The team might hesitate to beat up on me, but her …? I intended to make damn sure she’d get the credit if we won and take the lumps myself if we lost. No self-respecting captain could do otherwise. “Kai?”

“Do it,” I ordered. It might have been her concept, but I’d been the one who’d decided we’d go with her plan. There’d be enough recriminations to go around if we lost. “And hurry.”

Mildred nodded, casting the spells one by one. I felt the magic flicker and flare around us, pieces of spellware binding us together. The concept was risky, to say the least, but it played to our sole real strength as a team. It might just work …

“Don’t forget to add the illusions,” Karen pointed out. “We don’t want them thinking we’re elsewhere.”

“It should work,” Mildred said. “The tracking spells aren’t that precise.”

“Don’t take anything for granted,” I warned. The arena was covered in tracking spells – it wouldn’t do to have someone turned into an object, then lost forever because the caster couldn’t find them again – but, in theory, none of the players should be able to use the spells. In theory … it really would be cheating, and the sergeant might disqualify the perpetrator’s entire team, yet if they used it to beat us we might not get a rematch. “We have to assume the worst.”

Bill snorted. “If they can turn the arena spells against us, we’re fucked anyway.”

Mildred looked up at me. “I think we’re ready.”

“You think?” Karen gave her a look she wouldn’t dare give any other fifth-year. “Are you sure?”

“Nothing is certain, except death, taxes and Blair being an asshole,” I said, before an argument could break out. “James, Bill, Jerry … you’re with me. You know what to do.”

“Yep,” Jerry said. “I know the plan. I know exactly what I have to do. I really do …”

He paused, dramatically, and pasted a truly gormless expression on his face. “What was the plan again?”

I gave him the finger as the bell rang. We didn’t have time for jokes, not when we had only one chance to pull this off. The other teams were already running to take up positions, if I was any judge, some going on the offensive while others tried to find cover and ambush their enemies as they approached. The doggy trick wouldn’t work twice – everyone would have blanketed themselves in scent-neutralising spells or I was a halfwit – but who knew what else Blair, Darrell and Ham had up their sleeves? Darrell was no fool and she wanted to beat Blair and rub his face in it. If she came up with something of her own …

The air felt cold and clammy as the four of us hurried into the foliage, keeping as low as we could. It was risky leaving three people in the base – if they were caught by surprise, they’d be taken out before they had a chance to react – but most experienced players thought you needed every last teammate on the field. It was what they’d expect me to do, I thought. If nothing else, a useless player could soak up a hex aimed at someone more competent. And yet, would they not expect me to try something desperate?

If you have nothing to lose, I reflected, you might as well stake everything on one throw of the die.

We kept moving, slowing as we made our way towards the clearing. It was a bad place to pick a fight, I knew from experience, which was partly why I’d chosen it. Enemies could come from all directions, while we’d have precious little natural cover. I heard someone shout in the distance, too faint for me to make out any of the details; the sound cut off so abruptly I knew they’d been taken out. The nasty part of my mind hoped it had been one of Blair’s teammates. If I couldn’t go on to the finals myself, I’d be happy if Blair didn’t go on either.

No, I corrected myself. You wouldn’t.

I froze as the bushes up ahead started to rustle. Someone was there … probably. I ducked down as low as I could, until I was lying in the mud. The lads followed me, moving with unaccustomed silence, as we waited. Who was it? Did they know we were here? We’d layered ourselves in stealth spells, but the enemy would be scanning for us and nothing was more conspicuous than a dead zone in the middle of the arena. I wished, suddenly, we’d had more time to practice. Or a handful of people we could trust to serve as the opposition. We just didn’t know how the plan would work against a real opponent.

The bushes parted. Sonya stepped into view, eyes darting from side to side. Her tunic was stained with mud … I tried not to notice how it clung to her body as I peered past her, trying to determine if she was alone. Darrell wouldn’t have sent her out without backup, would she? Sonya was good – she wouldn’t have been on the team if she wasn’t – but anyone could be taken out, if they were alone. I braced myself, taking aim as I listened carefully. There was no sign of anyone else. Masking spells? Silencing spells? Or was she truly alone?

I hexed her. Her arms and legs snapped together, an instant before she tumbled and fell face-first into the mud. I grinned, even as I braced myself for the expected retaliation. If she wasn’t alone … I heard someone crashing through the foliage behind her and tensed, realising Darrell’s team was looking for their missing member. Two more ran into the clearing and got zapped, both frozen in their tracks. A third turned and ran away, too late. A hex struck her back …

And it wasn’t one of ours.

I realised, in an instant, what was happening. Darrell’s team had lost. There was no sign of Darrell herself, which meant she’d lost to either Blair or Ham. Her team had come apart, her teammates running for their lives … running straight into our accidental ambush. I wondered, suddenly, if I’d been wrong. Blair and Ham could have agreed to a brief alliance … it wasn’t as if Blair was short of things he could use to bribe people. He could have offered everything from gold to later patronage or … I shook my head. The sergeants wouldn’t be pleased when they found out …

“Get into position,” I hissed. If I was right, the last thing Blair wanted to do was give the remnants of Darrell’s team a chance to either make a stand or break contact. They might circle round and free Darrell and the others, bringing them back into the game, or simply hide somewhere and force Blair to waste time hunting them down. “You know what to do.”

I braced myself, then struck a silly pose. It was all or nothing. If I was hexed now, I’d look stupid as well as a loser. But … Blair would scent a trap, I was sure, and come in carefully rather than charging madly into the clearing. How long would it take for him to work up the nerve to strike …?

A thought crossed my mind. Next time, we can freeze …

The bushes parted. Ham’s team – or what was left of it – burst into view. I cast an immediate set of defensive charms, tightening my wards, then triggered the entanglement spell. Mildred went to work instantly, casting a series of freeze, compulsion and transfiguration spells at the enemy, while I worked on defending myself. I smiled at their shocked faces – to them, it must have seemed as if I was playing both offense and defence simultaneously – and then concentrated on defending myself. I was far too out in the open to allow myself to relax. If they got a clear shot at me, they could still turn everything around.

I felt my smile grow wider as Ham stopped dead, then melted into a rat. He’d be shocked when he found out Mildred had cast the spells, using the entanglement charm to work her magic from a safe distance. She could work without fear or freezing, while we concentrated on defending ourselves. Karen and Mark weren’t so practiced in theory, but they made up for it through sheer bloody-minded determination. Ham’s team were on the verge of losing …

Blair exploded into the clearing, his team casting spells towards us with fearsome skill. I tensed, struggling desperately to counter their spells as Mildred pressed her advantage. Jerry froze, then tumbled; I countered the spell to free him, only to be struck and frozen myself. I hoped Mildred would follow orders – we’d planned for it – as the last of my defences faded away. Blair thought he’d won.

“Yep, you’re still a loser,” Blair said. The asshole dropped his pants and mooned me. I was surprised I wasn’t struck blind on the spot. “And without you the rest of your team is thoroughly fucked.”

He laughed, as if he’d cracked the funniest joke in the world, then swaggered off. I frowned inwardly. He had only three teammates left? What had happened to the others? It wasn’t entirely impossible he’d ordered one or more of them to hide, just to spite the rest of us … I waited, hearing him tramping off into the bushes. The spell held me firmly in place. He thought he’d won …

And normally, he would be right, I told myself. But this time I have an ace up my sleeve.

The entanglement spell flickered. The spell binding me in place snapped. I ducked quickly, turning my head to make sure Blair and his cronies weren’t right behind me. There’d been no way to work out the timings, let alone ensure they didn’t notice me being freed. I hastily freed the rest of my team, then turned and sneaked after Blair. He couldn’t have gotten that far, not if he was searching for Mildred and the others. And he wouldn’t be watching his back.

My lips curved into a smile. Why should he? He knows there’s nothing behind him.

We kept moving, careful to stay quiet even though we had the edge. It was important, vitally important, that we took them out without losing any players ourselves. It was the only way to guarantee a complete victory, one that would take our team to the finals. I inched forward, cursing under my breath. Blair might already be laying siege to our base, then insisting it gave him the right to declare victory. He might be right. Certainly, the rest of my team would be effectively trapped.

His voice boomed through the air. “COME OUT, LITTLE BITCHES, COME OUT!”

Charming, I thought, sarcastically. My father would have practically murdered my arse if I’d spoken to a lady like that, if her father or brother didn’t get me first. Blair was being cowardly, too. Neither Mildred nor Karen was his equal when it came to practical spellcasting, and he had the numbers on Mark. Or are you trying to provoke them into doing something stupid?

It didn’t matter. I inched forward until the base came into view. Blair and his goons were standing in front, laughing and jeering and generally being thoroughly unpleasant. I tried not to cringe. I’d grown up in a town that could be rough, and my early friends had been crude and rude, but there were limits. Blair was magical aristocracy and yet he was being ruder than any of my peers? He really did think he’d won.

I glanced at my team, then took aim. “On three …”

Blair started to turn, too late. I hexed him in the back. He froze, then slowly started to move … I grinned savagely, realising he really was trying to cheat, then hexed him again and again until the spells were firmly locked in place. His teammates went down just as quickly, without even getting a chance to hex us back. I couldn’t help myself. I whooped. We’d won!

I suppose I shouldn’t have mooned him. But I couldn’t resist.

“You fucking cheats!”

Blair stamped up and down, his face purpling until it looked like a blancmange. I would have felt sorry for him if it had been someone – anyone – else. He’d had a stroke of good luck and taken ruthless advantage of it, only to lose because we’d had a plan in place that had been better than his. And now he was bitching and moaning because his perfect victory had been stolen … honestly, I didn’t know why he was so pissed. We might have scored enough points to proceed to the finals, but so had he.

“You cheated,” Blair repeated. “And you …”

Sergeant Wills cleared his throat. “Kai? Would you care to comment?”

I met the sergeant’s eyes, evenly. “Nothing we did broke the rules,” I said. “We brought nothing into the arena. We didn’t hack the tracking spells. We didn’t even try to free ourselves after we were taken out” – I gave Blair a hard look – “or anything else that could reasonably be called cheating. We just outthought them and then outfought them.”

“You freed yourselves,” Blair snapped. That was a bit rich, coming from him. “You cheated!”

“Mildred freed us,” I countered. “She wasn’t hexed herself, therefore it wasn’t cheating and perfectly legal.”

Blair reddened. I was tempted to point out he’d tried to free himself, which really was cheating, but it would just make me a tattletale. The sergeants hadn’t noticed or Blair would have been frog-marched to the stocks or flogged by now … probably. They weren’t impressed by his lineage or anything else he might have to offer. They would have done something if they’d noticed.

“Perfectly legal cheating,” Darrell commented, sourly. Her face was stained with mud, but I could tell she was embarrassed. She’d had a stroke of bad luck, compounded by a lack of time to recover. Blair would rub her nose in her failure until she snapped and tried to hurt him. “We never even thought of it.”

“But you kept three of your people in the base,” Blair said. “Surely, that is against the rules!”

“No,” Sergeant Wills said, simply. “Good practice is not to let yourself get trapped in your own base. It’s quite possible to lose, as you tried, by putting the base under siege. But it isn’t against the rules to leave someone in the base …”

He paused, his eyes moving from team to team. “Darrell and Ham do not have enough points to proceed to the finals,” he said, as if there was anyone in the room who had any doubt of it. “Blair and Kai will be facing the winners of the next match, winner take all. You have two weeks to prepare yourself before your final challenge.”

“Winner takes all,” Blair said. “How ...”

Sergeant Wills glared him into silence. “BattleBorne is not just about taking out the enemy team,” he said. “It is about learning to work together, as a team, and devising newer and better tactics that can later be used on the battlefield. Points are awarded for victory, true, but also for innovation. If you come up with something new, be it a new technique or an adaptation of an earlier technique, the judges will award points for that too. There is no point in grumbling, like Prince Hastings, when your enemy comes up with something new and beats you. You need to adapt to the new reality and come up with something new yourself.”

I nodded. Prince Hastings had been first in line to his throne after his father died, only to be booted out of the line of succession and his kingdom when his younger brother raised a gunpowder army and effortlessly crushed the royal guardsmen. He’d been making the rounds of the Allied Lands since then, trying to drum up support for a bid to reclaim the throne, but he’d been given little more than sympathy and sometimes not even that. If the broadsheets were to be believed, he was so rude and unpleasant his peers preferred to deal with a known usurper to the legitimate heir. I couldn’t blame them.

That, and the fact his brother controls the kingdom and its resources and has a head start in building up a gunpowder army, I reflected. There’s nothing to gain from backing a loser when the winner could take your head too.

Sergeant Wills cleared his throat. “Kai?”

I grinned. “I took the liberty of hiring a pub down in Dragon’s Den for the party,” I said, as if it had all been my own idea. “And you’re all welcome to join us.”

“Well, I’m glad it was you who won,” Ham said. I heard what he didn’t say and smirked. Losing to me might be bad, but losing to Blair would be terrible. “I’ll see you down there.”

Darrell snorted. “I need a shower, then we can head down too,” she said. “Congratulations.”

I watched her go, wondering if there’d be a chance to rekindle our relationship. Not bloody likely … though it might be worth finding out if she’d like to be a reservist. She had the skills and I could hardly refuse the chance to ask her, even if she said no. If nothing else, she was far better than Blair. I wouldn’t want him at my back. It would be a good way to get a knife put in it.

“We won,” I said to my team, once we were alone. “Tonight, we party.”

Mildred looked down. “I don’t go to parties,” she said. “I …”

“You’re coming with us,” I said, firmly. Poor Mildred had never been invited to parties … I wondered, suddenly, if she’d ever been kissed. She certainly didn’t have any close friends … not even someone to chat with, every so often. “You’ll enjoy it.”

“Are we invited too?” Karen asked. “We might get in trouble if we went down …”

“Blame it on me,” I said. Karen and Bill were third-years, which meant they’d get in trouble for leaving school without permission … but they’d also get in trouble for ignoring a direct order from an older student who happened to be their captain. Perhaps the Grandmaster would let it pass, if he found out about it. If he didn’t, the only person he could punish was me. I could take it. “Just tell them you were following my orders and you’ll be fine.”

Bill grinned. “You poor bastard.”

“Go get showers,” I said, firmly. “And meet me in the Great Hall in twenty minutes.”

I showered and changed, then headed down to the hall. Half the senior students were already heading down to the town – any excuse for a party – while the remainder were either getting ready to go or making a show of staying in the castle. I made a mental bet with myself that Blair would come to the party, insisting he was a winner because he got to take his team into the finals, then shrugged. It was unlikely anyone would cause trouble in Dragon’s Den. The town council would report the troublemaker to the Grandmaster and the troublemaker would suffer.

“You could wear something a little nicer than that,” Karen said to Mildred, as they entered the hall. “Don’t you own a dress?”

“It got stolen back in first year,” Mildred said, practically whispering. Even I could tell she was nervous. “I never bought a replacement.”

Karen squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow after class, if you like,” she said. “We can buy you something new.”

I shot her a sharp look. Karen might mean well, but she was also taking advantage of Mildred so she could go to town on a weekday. I’d have to have a word with her later. The last thing I needed was trouble between them … really, the last thing Karen needed was to get into bad habits. Ordering a senior student around … if she tried that on Darrell or one of her peers, Karen would be lucky if she wasn’t beaten to within an inch of her life. If Mildred had a little more confidence …

Mildred stayed close to me as we walked down the road to Dragon’s Den. Night was already falling, but the town was surprisingly and brightly lit. I saw small groups of teenage students lining up outside the shops, bars, and brothels, the latter trying to hide under obscurification spells even though everyone already knew who – or at least what – they were; I spotted guardsmen keeping a wary eye on things from a distance, unwilling to intervene unless something got really out of hand. I winced inwardly. I’d considered the guard as a career, before I’d come into my magic, only to have Dad tell me it was a bad idea. For once, my old man probably had a point.

“It’s loud,” Mildred muttered, as we stepped into the pub. No one had waited for us before getting the party started. “Does it have to be so loud?”

I shrugged. The noise – one would have to be very charitable indeed to call it singing – was loud, but it could be worse. I’d attended matches where rival teams of supporters had sung their songs at the top of their lungs, each one trying to drown out the other by creating a discordant racket that had often led to fights. It wasn’t helped by someone having set up an outline of the match on the big board, triggering off arguments over whether or not we’d cheated and, if we had, who’d really won the match. I heard someone loudly insisting I had cheated and another denying it, the argument turning rapidly into a fistfight that drew in others who just wanted a fight. A handful of beer maidens carried their trays through the room, faces fixed in unconvincing smiles. I shook my head politely as they offered me beer. I needed to keep a clear head.

Mildred stayed close to me as I ordered a couple of orange juices. It felt as if everyone was coming up to me, slapping me on the back – perhaps a little harder than necessary – and congratulating me on my great victory. They made it sound as if I’d done it all on my lonesome. I hoped the others weren’t too annoyed, if they heard it. Karen and Bill were dancing on the far side of the bar, while Mark and James were drinking beer and Jerry was heading off with one of the beer maidens. I hoped he remembered his protective spells. He was too young to have children. So was she.

The racket grew louder. Someone took her top off and started to dance on the counter. Her boyfriend tried to grab her, only to be dragged down by two more. Darrell knocked their heads together, hard, then helped her friend off the bar and out the far door. I hoped she was just drunk, rather than under someone’s spell. Grandmaster Gordian might take a more relaxed attitude to drinking than his predecessor, but there were limits. If she’d been enchanted, the caster would be in deep shit. If he was caught … I looked around for Blair – it was his sort of assholery – but there was no sign of him. Who knew? Perhaps he’d gone to bed with one of the waitresses too.

Poor girl, I thought, nastily. She must really need the money.

“This is just too loud,” Mildred said. She looked as out of place as … well, something very out of place indeed. “I need to go catch my breath.”

“Go outside,” I said, pointing to the far door. “Take a breath and then come back in.”

Mildred left. I turned back to my drink. I could stay for another hour or … I was between girlfriends. I could try to pick up one of the waitresses myself, or go down to the brothel, or … who knew? Perhaps Darrell would be interested in a night of passion before we went back to school? I smiled at the thought – she was a handful between the sheets – then pushed it aside. It wasn’t going to happen. The last time I’d made eyes at her, because I’d been fool enough to think we could stay lovers even as we competed with each other on the pitch, she’d hexed me.

I sipped my drink and waited. Perhaps Mildred wouldn’t come back. She was a sorceress in training, skilled enough to pass her exams and go on to senior year. She’d be perfectly safe … wouldn’t she? Ice ran down my spine. She might be good at spellcasting from a safe distance, but … would she have the nerve to walk home on her own? In the dark? I stood, unsure quite what was bothering me, and headed for the door. A whore caught my arm, her dress bursting with promise, only to have me shrug her off. It wouldn’t annoy her that much. There was no shortage of potential customers in the bar.

There was no sign of Mildred, either, as I stepped outside. I cursed under my breath and cast a tracking spell. It wobbled alarmingly, suggesting someone was trying to obscure her precise location without being too obvious about it. And that meant … I repeated the tracking spell, drawing on the remains of the entanglement charms. No mundane street thief, or common or garden rapist, could do that. She wouldn’t hide herself, which meant …

I picked up speed, allowing the spell to pull me into an alleyway. It was rare for anyone to really bother a student from Whitehall, not when the students were magicians and capable of defending themselves, which meant … I muttered a pair of night vision spells, then a hearing spell, as I reached the alleyway. Two people were at the far end, one pressing the other against the wall. Mildred was being held in place by … I ground my teeth in sudden fury. Blair. Of course it was Blair. Was he insane? If he tried to rape her … I swallowed hard, fighting to control my anger. Did he really think he was immune to punishment? Did he really think Mildred would keep her mouth shut? Did he really think …?

He was whispering, but the spell carried his words to my ears. “You got lucky,” he hissed, his voice low and threatening. To me, it was merely annoying. I knew I was a fair match for him. To Mildred, who froze when confronted with the unexpected … it had to be terrifying. “Your team won through sheer luck. But it won’t happen again. If you stay on the team …”

Blair leaned forward, pushing her against the wall and leaving her in absolutely no doubt what would happen if she stayed on the team. I was shocked. Trying to lure someone away through cajolery or bribery was one thing, outright threatening them was quite another. And he’d picked on the weakest link, the teammate who had the least emotional investment in a glorious victory. I would have admired his animal cunning if he hadn’t been a shitty person …

I started forward, intent on beating the shit out of him, as he pushed Mildred even harder. Her eyes went wide, an instant before there was a brilliant flash of light and Blair morphed into a frog. I heard his outraged croaking as he tried to hop away, then grinned at Mildred. She was staring around wildly, as if she didn’t quite believe what she’d done. I felt my grin grow wider. If she hadn’t turned a fellow student into something before now, she was probably the only one ... Blair kept hopping, until I put my foot on him. I felt his magic twist as he tried to undo the spell, to escape before it was too late. But it was already too late. I altered the spell and made it stronger, then kicked him down the alleyway.

It won’t last forever, I thought, as I caught Mildred’s arm and pulled her in the other direction. That would get me expelled. But he’ll have a few nasty hours before it wears off.

“Kai!” Mildred seemed torn between hugging or hexing me. “You … he … what …?”

“It’s alright,” I said. What was I supposed to say? “I … you bested him! You beat him!”

“I …” Mildred staggered against me. “I … he said he’d kill me …”

“Not after that,” I told her. “You scared him.”

“Really?” Mildred didn’t seem to believe me. “Did I?”

“Yeah.” I winked, although I wasn’t sure she could see me. “Bullies are always cowards. You put them in a world of pain and they go running.”

I sighed, inwardly, as I hurried her back to the school. It was true – a bully always had a cowardly heart – but it was difficult to expose it. A bully only becomes a bully because he’s allowed to get away with a small act of bullying, then a slightly larger act of bullying, then an even bigger act … with each act, the level of force you need to reveal his inner coward grows higher and higher. Sure, Blair had been shocked – and the adjustments I’d made to the spell should give him a nasty fright – but he wouldn’t be knocked down for good. He’d think she got lucky. He might even tell himself I cast the spell.

Mildred shuddered against my arm. “He said I only got the place on the team because we were … sleeping together.”

“Oh,” I said, deadpan. Someone said that about Darrell too. She kicked him in the crotch hard enough to do real damage. “And are we sleeping together?”

I didn’t need the spell to see her blush. “No!”

“No,” I agreed. “So you know he’s lying.”

She said nothing for a long moment, then: “What do we do now?”

“We train for the final match,” I said. Blair would be doing the same, as would whoever won the next match. They’d copy our trick, if I was any judge, and then … we’d just have to come up with something new. “And we kick his ass right across the field.”

It was easier said than done.

We trained hard, of course. We went to the field every evening and played time and time again, testing ourselves against each other and the arena’s automatic defences. There was no way to test ourselves against other teams – Blair, damn him, had been making all sorts of promises and there was no one I could trust not to report our tactics straight to him – but we made progress. Slowly. I was starting to think the team really was coming together.

But it wouldn’t last past the next defeat.

And we would lose again, sooner or later. I knew it to be true. There’s no such thing as an ever-victorious team and the player who claims never to have lost a match or been on the losing side is either a liar or someone careful to ensure he only played against inferior competition. Blair, whatever else could be said about him, was testing himself against the best the school could offer. It made me wonder if the outside teams were doing the same. Probably. There weren’t many schools that couldn’t field at least four teams … if they had enough interested players. Just because I was obsessed with games didn’t mean everyone shared my obsession.

“You turned everything around, last game,” Jane said, as we sat and watched the next match. “Do you think you can do it again?”

I said nothing, my eyes following the players as they raced around the field. I was discomfited to note that one of the other teams had copied our tactic – really, it shouldn’t have surprised me. But then, it did require one or more players to stay in the rear while letting the others get the girls and the glory. Everyone wants to be the chap who scores the winning goal, not the chap who passes him the ball and certainly not the poor bastard sitting on the substitute bench when the goal is scored. I’d been lucky in that respect, if not in others. Mildred and the others who’d stayed at the back didn’t care much for glory.

“Of course,” I bragged. I didn’t really feel it, but half of being a team captain is pretending to be confident even when the score is so heavily slanted against you that you just know the referee is biased. It could be worse. I’d watched a team lose twenty to one and the ref had been on their side. It should have been at least thirty to one. “We’ll romp to victory once again.”

“The betting is in your favour,” Jane said. “That may change today, of course, but …”

I shrugged. The Grandmaster had laid down the law, in the aftermath of Juliet’s scandal, and forbidden team captains from placing bets on pain of expulsion. I wasn’t allowed to bet on myself and I certainly wasn’t allowed to bet on anyone else. There were probably some underground betting rings that had escaped his notice, but I knew nothing about them. Of course not. Besides, I didn’t have the money to gamble. Blair, damn him, had all the money in the world.

He doesn’t, I reminded myself. It just feels that way.

Jane leaned forward. She wore simple robes, but I knew what she looked like underneath … I bit off on that thought, hard. She was three years behind me and showing even the slightest hint of interest would get me in real trouble. Rules were rules, particularly when the staff were looking for ways to get rid of particularly troublesome students. I’d thrown everyone’s calculations for a loop when I’d formed a team and taken it onto the field, then won the second match. If Juliet had still been in charge, she would probably have come up with an excuse to bar us from the field.

“You came up with a new trick,” Jane pressed. “Are you going to rely on it again? Or are you going to come up with something new?”

“We’re going to run onto the field stark naked,” I said. There was no way I was going to tell her the truth. Jane wasn’t a bad sort, but she couldn’t keep secrets to save her life. Her father was worse. From what I’d heard, it was a minor miracle the muckraker was still alive. “The enemy teams will all be struck blind and we’ll romp to victory.”

Jane’s expression didn’t change, but I saw two red spots on her cheeks. “Are you sure they won’t keel over laughing, instead?”

“We’ll still win,” I said. I’d taken part in a game where tickling charms had been used to discomfit the other players. It was a shame it was the kind of trick that rarely worked more than once. Still … I made a mental note to consider it. Blair wouldn’t expect us to try and we might be able to sneak it through wards that would keep out nastier hexes and jinxes. “It doesn’t matter how we win, as long as we don’t break the rules.”

“We shall see,” Jane said. She gave me a wink that would have landed her in hot water in a more conservative kingdom. “I’m betting on you, for what it’s worth.”

She stood and walked off before I could come up with a response. It was a vote of confidence, I supposed, although I was nowhere near as confident of victory as I pretended. We’d played two games and only won one … sure, I could and did tell myself that Blair had rigged the first game against us – and he had – but we’d still lost. And we’d won the second game through outthinking the opponents … that trick, too, wouldn’t be as effective the second time around. Blair certainly wouldn’t let it work twice.

I leaned back in my seat and watched the players reach endgame. The team that had copied us was doing well, but they weren’t using the entanglement spells as effectively as we had. I guessed their spellcasters hadn’t wanted to stay in the rear. Or that someone had sneaked up on their base, once they realised what was happening, and taken the spellcasters out … a thought crossed my mind, a tactic that might just work …

“Hey,” a voice said. Blair. “What’s a pretty boy like you doing up here all alone?”

I tried not to tense as he stepped into view. I should have noticed him well before he spoke and the fact I hadn’t was … irritating. He’d spent plenty of time sneaking around the school, just like the rest of us, but still … I cursed under my breath, wishing I’d thought to bring Mark and James with me. Blair appeared to be alone, but that was meaningless. He could have brought his entire team under invisibility or obscurification spells.

“Enjoying the view,” I grunted, finally. Blair had probably come for the same reason as I had. “It just went downhill.”

Blair gave me a cross look. “Your bad taste is not my problem,” he said, as he seated himself next to me. “You’re not my type.”

I tried to hide my annoyance. “Are you trying to be funny? Because if you are, it isn’t working.”

He shrugged. I allowed myself a quick smirk. Blair could be funny, even charming, when he wanted to be. He had a disarming grin that made boys underestimate him and girls swoon …right up to the moment he put the knife in their backs. Mildred hadn’t told me how he’d managed to lure her into the alleyway, but I had my suspicions. I’d kept them to myself. I really didn’t want to know.

“I underestimated you,” Blair said, seriously. “I never thought you’d have a chance.”

I smirked, again. It was proof he was alone. He’d never have made that admission in front of his cronies, not when they might see it as a sign he wasn’t as confident as he pretended. And that meant …

“You convinced two other teams to gang up with you on us,” I pointed out, dryly. The best team in the big leagues would have trouble winning against such odds – and we’d lost so badly we’d become a laughingstock. “You took us very seriously indeed.”

Blair’s eyes narrowed, then he shrugged, conceding the point. More proof he was alone. He’d have argued for hours if he’d had an audience. “I thought we were doing you a favour by putting you out of the running so quickly,” he said. “You do realise you’re not going to get any sponsors for the big games? Can you afford even one banner to wave in front of your team?”

I felt a hot flash of anger. Blair had a point. Dad wasn’t going to sponsor us – I knew better than to ask – and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. I intended to cross that bridge when I came to it. The Grandmaster would probably give us some money, just to keep up appearances; there were others, Lady Emily or Queen Alassa, perhaps, who might be interested in sponsoring us. I’d played on Alassa’s team, when she’d been a student. She might just listen to my request without laughing in my face.

“That’s none of your business,” I said, finally. Let him think I was completely without options. “There’s no rule that says you need a sponsor.”

Blair smirked. It made me want to punch him. My fists clenched in anticipation. “But you’ll look like a bunch of commoners aping your betters.”

I stuck out my tongue. “You needed to outnumber us to win the first match and you lost the second,” I said. “I think we’re the better team.”

Blair’s face became ugly, just for a second. “You think your tricks will win in the big leagues?”

“It’s only stupid if it fails,” I said, quoting one of our old sergeants. “If we win, if it works, it’s smart.”

“No, you just got lucky,” Blair countered. “And that trick won’t work twice.”

I shrugged. “We’ll see,” I said. “Tell me, is there a reason you’re inflicting yourself on me? I’m sure there are places your company is merely unwelcome.”

“If only you were as witty as you think you are,” Blair said, crossly. “Kai, let’s be honest here. Your team is a joke. You won because you came up with something new and that trick won’t work twice. It really won’t.”

“So you said,” I reminded him. “Get to the point.”

Blair met my eyes. “We ally to wipe out the other teams, then fight it out,” he said. “If you win, you give me and two of my best players places on your team; if you lose, I give you a place on mine. You’ll go to the big leagues whatever happened.”

I blinked. He couldn’t have surprised me more if he’d conceded defeat without a fight. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” Blair gave me an honest look. I wasn’t remotely impressed. Dad had taught me well. No honest man is ever quite so honest. “There’s no reason we have to be enemies. We can go onwards, together.”

I stared at him for a long moment. “You …”

“Me,” Blair said. “We must put aside our rivalry and think of the school’s best interests.”

“Oh,” I said. “We must, must we?”

I forced myself to think. On paper, his offer was workable even though it smacked of low cunning. The other two teams would never expect Blair and I to ally. We could take them both out and then … I scowled. If I trusted Blair, it would be a good offer. But I didn’t. I knew what had happened to his last set of allies. He’d let them take the brunt of the fighting and then wiped them out before they realised he’d positioned himself for the endgame. He had a point – the school would benefit from sending the best team it could muster to the big leagues – but … somehow, I had the feeling he was thinking more of his own advantage.

And I wouldn’t trust him to keep his word either, I thought, crossly. If he doesn’t offer me an oath …

Blair leaned forward. “I’m going to be Captain-General,” he said. “Do you not think I can make it worth your while?”

“There’s no guarantee you’ll take Juliet’s place,” I pointed out. There was certainly no guarantee Juliet’s successor would have the same freedoms she’d enjoyed, not after she’d abused them so blatantly. “And you don’t even know what powers you’ll have.”

My thoughts hardened. Blair was an aristo. Aristos rarely bothered to bargain with their social inferiors. They took what they wanted, leaving their inferiors to thank them for taking everything and leaving them with nothing. If Blair was trying to bargain, it suggested he wasn’t anything like as confident of victory as he claimed …

And besides, I wouldn’t trust him to keep his word. How could I?

“No,” I said. “I think not.”

Blair glared. “The others already approached you, didn’t they?”

I shrugged, noncommittally. No one had – how could they? The match below had yet to be won or lost. But Blair wouldn’t see it that way. Arrogant ass, he’d assume everyone else was the same way. And he knew I wouldn’t ally with him if I saw any other option …

“We’ll kick your asses,” he said, standing. “And afterwards, you’re done.”

He stalked away in a huff. The game came to an end. I noted the winners, briefly considering the idea of asking one or both of them for an alliance, then got up and strode away. The Grandmaster had ordered all four captains to assemble in the bunker after the match, once we knew who’d be playing in the final. I wondered, idly, if Blair would try to ally with one of them. They’d be fools to trust him, but the stakes were already dangerously high.

Mildred is the only one who doesn’t really care, I reflected. She’d come a long way in the past few weeks, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with winning or losing. She’d be happy as long as Blair lost his chance to go to the big leagues.

I put the thought out of my mind as I stepped into the bunker. Blair sat there, his face so blank I knew he was annoyed. Sarah and David stood by the water cooler, drinking water as if it was going out of fashion. Their faces and tunics were drenched in sweat. I knew why Blair was annoyed. They were both aristos, with powerful connections and enough money to buy everything I owned out of pocket change. Blair couldn’t bribe them into doing anything and he knew it. I wondered, mischievously, if they’d tried to bribe him.

The Grandmaster strode into the room and cleared his throat for attention. “It has been an interesting set of matches,” he said, with what I felt was commendable understatement. “You have all worked very hard, and performed well, and I feel confident in saying that whatever team goes to the big championship will represent the very best of the school, in everything from spellcasting to sportsmanship.”

Really? I wasn’t impressed. There’s little sporting in convincing three teams to gang up on one.

“Regardless of the outcome, I also feel confident in saying the best captain will win,” the Grandmaster continued. “BattleBorne requires more than just physical and magical skills to win. It requires a certain degree of cunning, and diplomacy, and team management. The best captains are not those who bark orders at their teams, but the ones who help their teams to develop, to expand their individual skills and work as a team. The skills the game helps you to develop are ones that are very important in other fields.”

He paused, dramatically. I tried not to look impatient. Something was coming and I didn’t think I was going to like it. The entire chamber felt as if it was hanging on tenterhooks.

“The question of precisely who will replace the last Captain-General has haunted us for the last two months,” the Grandmaster informed us, as if we didn’t already know. “Traditionally, the Captain-General would be called upon to nominate their replacement, but this is impossible. Juliet left her position in disgrace and, while no one else has been implicated in her scheme, we have been reluctant to make a hasty decision about her replacement. None of the possible candidates stand out, certainly not to the point their nomination is a foregone conclusion.”

I smiled. And Blair thought he was going to be nominated without a fight?

The Grandmaster liked the sound of his own voice, I decided. He certainly kept talking.

“The Captain-General must have demonstrated the skills to direct and manage teams,” the Grandmaster said. “He must also enjoy the confidence of the students, at least those who play sports, and demonstrated a willingness to put his personal feelings aside for the greater good. After much debate, it has been decided that, regardless of the outcome of the championship, that the winner of the coming match will have shown all the skills needed to be a successful Captain-General. One of the four of you” – his eyes moved from face to face, taking our measure – “will be Juliet’s successor.”

Blair gasped. “What …?”

“The winner of the coming match will be the next Captain-General,” the Grandmaster said. I thought I heard a hint of irritation in his tone. It would be a long time before he trusted any Captain-General as much as he’d trusted Juliet. I suspected that was probably why the Ken captains hadn’t been given a chance to take her place. “The winner will take up the role as soon as possible. The losers” – his eyes swept the room again – “will be expected to support the winner to the hilt. No one is impressed by sore losers.”

I grinned. I couldn’t help it.

There’ll be no alliances now, I thought, as the Grandmaster left the room. And Blair knows it too.

“Blair came to me last night,” Jerry whispered, as we changed into our tunics for the big match. “Offered me shitloads of money if I fucked you – and not in a fun way. Said he’d give me the world if I put a hex in your back.”

“The world isn’t his to give,” I said, refusing to reveal how nervous Jerry’s words made me. Blair could offer a lot and there was no way I could match it. “You said no?”

“Demanded the world in advance,” Jerry said. “Blair called me all sorts of names.”

He turned away. I allowed myself a moment of relief. The last week had been hectic. Everyone was training, everyone was placing bets, everyone was arguing over who would win and what it meant for the rest of the sporty students … I’d even heard of duels being fought over the likely outcome of the final match. Blair had to be doing everything in his power to undermine his rivals, including me. Jerry, thank all the gods, hadn’t wanted to take Blair’s money. I hoped the others felt the same way.

I took a long breath and made my way down to the bunker. Blair’s team marched past – seriously; they marched like an army regiment on its way to the war –uniforms perfect and their faces grim. They knew what was at stake, just like the rest of us. If they won, they got to go to the big leagues … perhaps. Blair would have his pick of the players, without any obligation to keep the ones he already had. I wondered, numbly, if I should have been making overtures to some of his players, particularly the weaker ones. But I had nothing I could use to bribe them …

Sergeant Wills stood at the front of the chamber and waited for David and Sarah – and their teams – to join us. There was not a single hint of cooperation in the air. The team captains looked as if they were keeping their faces under tight control, while their players weren’t even trying to hide their feelings. One of Sarah’s players had been replaced on short notice, after he’d eaten something that disagreed with him. It had officially been ruled an accident, but no one I knew agreed with the verdict. He’d been poisoned and the poisoner had gotten away with it. Probably.

“You know what is at stake,” Sergeant Wills said. “The winner of this match will go on to the big championship games. The winning captain will become the next Captain-General. I suggest” – his tone made it clear it was an order – “that you remember two things. First, certain advantages you have here will not be present in the championship games and relying on them to win this match will cost you during the championship. Second, if you demonstrate good sportsmanship, you will find it much easier to gain respect if you win the prize. The days in which a Captain-General had complete, and unquestioned, authority are over. If you twist the rules to your advantage, you’ll be seen as a cheat even if what you do isn’t technically cheating. You will find it much harder to assert authority over the other sporty students.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in. I kept my face expressionless. He had a point. The tactics I planned to use probably wouldn’t work in the championship. And we might be seen as cheats … I shrugged. It didn’t matter who won, as long as Blair was swept off the field. I glanced at him and smiled. He shot me a look that suggested he’d be throwing punches if the sergeant wasn’t right in front of him.

“Go to your bases,” the sergeant ordered. “When the bell rings … may the best team win.”

I stood and led my team out of the bunker, feeling eyes boring into my back. Sarah and David hadn’t tried to bribe me – or anyone else, as far as I knew – but they wouldn’t assume I was a silly captain in charge of a team of incompetent halfwits. They knew to take us seriously now. I briefly considered a plan that would have allowed us to get ahead without coming across as a real threat, only to dismiss it as a concept so foolish it didn’t work on paper, let alone the real world. Too many things could and would go wrong for the plan to be even remotely workable.

“You know what to do,” I said, once we were in the base. I’d done my best to reason out what the other teams would do, in response to our victory. Blair would find it hard to keep half his team in the rear – I didn’t know if it was true of Sarah and David, though I suspected it was – and that meant they’d counter by attacking our base at once. It was what I’d do if I thought my opponents were using entanglement charms. “Are you ready?”

I allowed my eyes to drift from face to face. Jerry, Mark and James looked eager. Bill and Karen looked a little more worried. Mildred seemed unconcerned … I suspected she was reluctant to invest too much heart in the game, or anything else. I grinned at them, wishing I could put my feelings into words. No one had bet on us, when we’d started. Everyone had assumed we were going to lose very badly. But now … we had a chance. They’d remember us even if we lost our final match.

“Mildred,” I said. “Are the spells ready?”

“Yeah.” Mildred looked nervous. “I don’t know if they’ll fool anyone …”

“They just have to last long enough for us to get into position,” I said, as I started to run through the first set of anti-tracking spells. Blair would expect us to stay in position … I just hoped he didn’t have time to torture us as well as take us out. “And then we can blindside him.”

The bell rang. “We need to move. Now.”

I led the way outside, cold damp air slapping me in the face. It had rained last night and the ground was even muddier than usual, to the point half the field might have turned into a bog. I glanced around quickly, then led the way east. It was risky – if we accidentally crossed the line, or got blown over it, it would count as us leaving the field – but it would give us our best chance of setting up spells ahead of time. I’d sooner have done it in the base, but the others would attack our base as quickly as possible. They’d have no choice.

But that does raise the issue of trapping us, I reflected, wryly. Does it count as pinning us down if we can use entanglement spells to work magic outside the fort?

I put the thought aside as Mildred performed the summoning spell. There was a long pause – for a terrible moment, I thought the plan was going to fail before it had even begun – then a handful of foxes darted out of the undergrowth and charged towards us. Karen snapped out a compulsion charm, holding them in place as Mildred went on to the next part of the plan. It wasn’t hard to control animals, save for creatures of magic. They tended to attack anyone who tried to control them.

“Poor creatures,” Karen muttered. “They’re really quite cute.”

Mildred looked pale as she finished the spell. The four foxes morphed into copies of four of us. They didn’t have our intelligence, and the moment the control spell snapped their animal mentalities would take over, but they did have our handsome faces. It struck me, suddenly, that Mildred was actually very cute. Her body might not be as enticing as Samra’s or as toned as Darrell’s, but … I put the thought aside for later contemplation. Right now, it was a distraction, the last thing I needed.

“Add the blood,” Mildred ordered. “Hurry!”

I did as I was told, adding a tiny droplet of my blood to the spell as the transfigured foxes quivered in terror. It was hard not to feel guilty, even though I hadn’t been able to work out any other way to pull the trick off. I’d have felt less bothered about improving Blair’s looks remarkably by turning him into a duplicate of me. It wasn’t against the rules, and students had done far worse to animal subjects over the years, but … I promised myself I’d make sure the foxes were well-rewarded for their service. It was the very least we could do.

James caught my eye. “They’re coming.”

I nodded. I could hear them. A team was heading straight towards our base, moving so quickly it was clear they didn’t give a damn about stealth. I nodded to Mildred, who took over the compulsion spell and directed the foxes back to the base. James, Mark and Karen joined them, readying their magic. I felt another pang of guilt. They’d volunteered for the job – it had to look convincing – but still …

The entanglement spells buzzed around me. My mind slid through the connection as our faux team returned to the base. The whole experience was weirdly disconcerting, as though I was underwater … I wasn’t sure if it was because my mind was too close to the transfigured foxes or if it was just a side effect of the entanglement spell. It felt almost like flying on a pitchfork, only worse … as if the pitchfork was under someone else’s control. I’d met a witch from Laughter who’d taken me on a ride, before I’d taken her for a ride on my broomstick.

Sarah’s team exploded out of the foliage and crashed into our base, throwing spells through the arrow slits as though there was no tomorrow. They’d come up with their own tricks, part of my mind noted, as our faked team attacked. The magical grenades they’d devised froze everyone caught within the field, taking them out before they could react. It would have worked too – I made a note to steal the trick myself – if we’d been in the fort. Instead, we pitched into their side and counterattacked. Sarah’s team would have lost, in that instant, if we’d all been there.

Shit, I thought. Sarah was no fool. Would she notice we weren’t fighting as intensely as we should? What if …?

Sarah’s face went blank. Someone had hit her with a compulsion spell, right in the back. I knew who it was even before Blair’s face appeared in front of me, casting spell after spell. The fighting turned into a melee, a fight I couldn’t have followed even if my mind wasn’t having problems coping with the entanglement spells. Someone hexed me – the fox – and I tumbled to the ground. I could have freed the beast, but I wanted them to think they’d taken me out. My awareness glided away, leaving me with the impression of Blair calling his charmed slaves to him. I felt a stab of pity. Poor Sarah. A first-year being hexed with such a spell and forced to recite doggerel or kiss the caster’s feet or something was bad enough, but she was a fifth-year …

He won’t molest her, I told myself. But she’ll be all too aware he could.

My awareness fell back into my body, as if I’d awoken from a dream. The world was too bright … I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stand. Blair and the others would think he’d wiped us out to the very last man, unless he thought to check the bodies … I hoped he wouldn’t, not when he had David coming up behind him. He’d want to believe it too, I told myself. He certainly wouldn’t want to do anything that would throw his good fortune into doubt.

I glanced at Mildred as the sound of fighting died away. “How long will the spells last?”

“At least an hour,” Mildred whispered. The silence was worse than the noise. “Unless they start prodding at them …”

“Don’t worry about it,” I told her. “Let’s go. Quietly.”

I glanced at the survivors – Jerry, Bill and Mildred – then led the way along the boundary line. It was risky to stay so close, for all the reasons I mentioned earlier, but the rest of the teams probably wouldn’t want to come looking for us. Probably. If you crossed the line, you were out. No arguments would be accepted. We moved in absolute silence, not daring to say a word, as we made our way to Blair’s base. I was entirely sure he would come out ahead, even against David. His charmed slaves would draw his fire long enough for Blair’s team to get the advantage and overwhelm him, then release his teammates and return to his base. It was the only way he could declare victory …

He needs as many of his teammates free as possible, I reminded myself. Sarah might pick up a few more points – perhaps. It depended on how the scores were calculated, after the match. David certainly would, unless he got very unlucky. I didn’t think it would make any difference, but you never knew. Blair had enough enemies looking for a way to embarrass him that it would be wise to cover all the bases. If they insist he was beaten on points … they might just steal his victory from him.

Jerry put his lips close to mine. “Hell of a gamble,” he whispered. “What if David wins?”

I shrugged. I’d thought about it and that was all I could do. There were no guarantees Blair would win the coming fight, but … I was betting on him. David wasn’t a bad captain – and I rather liked him – yet when it came to being an asshole Blair had the edge. He wouldn’t have gotten so far if he wasn’t capable of thinking outside the box …

“We wait and see,” I said, finally. “Now … you know what to do.”

I braced myself as Blair’s base came into view. It was identical to ours, surrounded by wards that should – should – have kept us out. Mildred went to work, weakening the wards enough to let us slip into the base itself. It wasn’t cheating, not in a legal sense, but it was unheard of. No one bothered to break into a base when laying siege to it was quite enough. I laid a handful of warning charms around the edge of the clearing, listening carefully as the sound of fighting echoed over the field. Someone shouted … I had no idea who. Blair and David were going to war …

“Done,” Mildred said. “Get inside.”

I stepped through the gap in the wards and into the base. The interior was as bland and boring as ours. I was almost disappointed. Sneaking into bedrooms and offices was an old school tradition – I’d done it myself – but there’d always been some kind of reward, even if it was just bragging rights. Here … I was surprised he hadn’t tried to smuggle in alcohol or something else that bent the rules to the breaking point. I would have expected it from him.

“Against the wall,” I hissed, casting an invisibility charm. “When they enter and close the door, hit them as planned.”

I leaned against the wall and waited, feeling the seconds ticking away like hours. Blair thought he’d won. Or David … if David had come out ahead. Whoever it was, he certainly thought he’d taken out my entire team; he knew he had to return to his base to declare victory. Or … had the trick failed? The plan had seemed so clever and cunning – if cruel – when I’d put it together, but … would it survive contact with the enemy? I knew, now, why the sergeants had warned us so often that war was a democracy. The enemy got a vote – and his vote could easily undo ours. If I’d misjudged the situation …

The wards crackled in warning. I braced myself. Blair was returning, convinced he’d won … he had to be. If he knew we were still unaccounted for, he’d be searching for us. He’d have no choice. We might win by default if we ran out the clock. The wards crackled again as the door opened, Blair’s team swaggering into the chamber as if they’d won. And they thought they had …

I raised my hands the moment they closed the door and cast the spell. It was a weak spell that rarely worked against even slight resistance, but they thought they’d won. Blair’s eyes went wide, a moment before he morphed into a toad. The others cast their spells at the same time, wiping out Blair’s entire team. They’d never expected to be ambushed in their own base … I laughed, despite myself, as the toads croaked in outrage. We were going to earn so many points we might win even if they – somehow – turned the tables.

It was a moment that called for supreme dignity, for honour and respect to our defeated opponents after we’d won. It was a moment that demanded I take my victory with good grace …

“Fuck you,” I said, cheerfully. “Who’s laughing now? We won.”

And we had.

“I don’t know,” the Grandmaster said, “if I should reward you for your tactics or have you caned for cruelty to animals.”

I felt, rather than heard, my team gasp in shock. I leaned forward before someone else could speak. “The idea was mine, sir,” I said. No one would thank me if I got them caned – coming to think of it, I couldn’t recall Mildred ever being caned. She was probably the only person in school who’d escaped it. “If there’s anyone who should be caned, it is me.”

The Grandmaster said nothing for a long moment, then shook his head. “We’ll let the matter pass,” he said, finally. “But did you win fairly?”

“No!” Blair snapped. He’d insisted on joining the meeting, after being released from the spell. I wasn’t sure why the Grandmaster had let him. “He cheated!”

“There’s no rule against using transfigured animals to convince you they’d won,” I pointed out. “It’s hardly my fault you didn’t bother to check the bodies.”

“Sir!” Blair looked at the Grandmaster. “He’s a cheat!”

The Grandmaster pinned him in place with a look. “No rules have been broken,” he said, firmly. “Or so it seems. If you can point to a rule he has actually broken, please do.”

Blair scowled, remembered where he was and made a very visible attempt to compose himself. “Sir, the tactic is not one that will work in the big leagues,” he said. “And his willingness to throw away his people to convince us he threw away them all makes him unsuited for the prize!”

“We volunteered,” James said, quickly. “There’s no ‘I’ in team.”

“And there’s no ‘U’ either,” Karen added, to Blair. “We knew what we had to do and we did it.”

“Very well argued,” the Grandmaster said. He looked at Blair. “Kai has shown more than just a willingness to do whatever it takes to win. He has created a team of diverse students with diverse skills, which suggests he’ll be capable of being a good Captain-General. He has also played nearly every sport at this school, which gives him insights few can match. And, most importantly, he has the respect of the vast majority of sporty students.”

He looked at me. “Are you prepared to become Captain-General?”

I grinned, broadly. “Yes, sir!”

“Good,” the Grandmaster said. “You’ll be formally confirmed after you return from the championship. Choose your teammates wisely – remember, you are representing the school as well as yourself. We’ll discuss the rest of your role later. Until then … dismissed.”

I tried not to let my grin break my face as we turned and headed for the door. Blair stamped ahead of us, opening the door and slamming it behind him in a display of petty spite. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Blair could have won if he hadn’t decided he was going to mess around with the teams … hell, if he hadn’t betrayed the other teams back during the first match, he might have been able to convince David or Sarah to ally with him now. I wondered if he’d even bother to attend the party, then shrugged. It didn’t matter. Blair would never be Captain-General.

Mildred shot me a shy smile. “What now?”

I grinned as I opened the door. “Now? I guess we’re going to the big leagues.”

And you know what? We did.

But that’s another story.