Rapp snorted and swished his spoon in his soup. “I am their Hadvezér. They cannot refuse me.”

A laugh bubbled up, and I let it free. “If you say so. Can you find me some clothes?”

“That’s the spirit. I’ll fetch you some standard issue leather armor. The rest of the appearance is up to you. But do stay close to me, yeah?”

Rapp at least trusted me more than Rokath, and he offered me a level of respect Rokath did not. “I will,” I promised. And I would. Rokath had said I had to show him that I wouldn’t run away to earn his trust, and I planned on doing it just so I eventually could.

I was playing the long game.

“Hurry and eat, and then we can go.” He glanced over my shoulder to the bedside table where a clock rested. “Their games usually begin in around twenty minutes, so if we want to join the first round, we need to get to the Madar Squad’s section soon.”

Wasting no more time, I slurped down the chunky broth, earning a few side eye looks from the dogs. Rapp finished before me, promising to return with clothes. By the time I sopped up the last of the liquid with a hunk of bread, he launched a leather outfit in my direction. I caught them, reflexes faster after all the training I’d done on my way to Uzhhorod.

“Nice catch,” he commented, scooping up the empty bowls. “You change and I’ll take these to the washing station.”

“Thanks,” I said, and he slipped out. I waited a beat before stripping off my clothes and pulling on the ones much too large for me. Calling on my magic, I pulled a new form to me, tall and broad enough to fill them out, but with average features so as not to stand out. I chose blood-red eyes, powerful enough to be seen with Rapp, though not so powerful as to call attention to myself. Most of the darker colors had gone with Parancsok Olet to Fured, I’d learned, for enhanced training the day Rokath dropped me at Gyor Palace.

Rapp did a double take when he reentered the tent. Then, he looked me up and down. “Your magic is fucking cool, Assyria. I have to give you that.”

I shrugged. “All it’s gotten me so far is trouble.” My voice was deeper once again, and I cringed at the foreignness.

“Well let’s go cause some more,” Rapp grinned, motioning for me to follow.

“Stay,” I told the dogs, who barely bothered to crack an eye for our departure after I denied them more food. They were as tired as we were for the distance we covered on a daily basis. At least at the front, we moved more quickly than those at the back.

The air cooled quickly as the sun dropped below the mountains, and this far from Uzhhorod, thousands of stars were already visible overhead. Fires dotted the spaces between the tents, offering warmth and light, and all around, flaps were tied back, beckoning groups to enter and socialize. I hadn’t gotten much of an opportunity to appreciate the sheer size of the camp before being spirited away to Gyor, and as I followed Rapp through a maze I’d never find my way out of, I was awestruck by the organized chaos.

Eventually, I spotted a somewhat familiar pennant flag with a bird etched into it. Laughter roared from somewhere nearby, and then we rounded a corner. A series of tables ringed a large fire, males crowding each of them and clinking metal mugs together.

“Do they have ale?” I hissed under my breath.

“If they do, we don’t tell Rokath,” Rapp replied with a small chuckle.

I liked Rapp even more now. “Deal,” I snorted. “What’s his issue with the rules anyway?”

Rapp stopped in his tracks and yanked me behind one of the unoccupied tents. “Do not ask that of anyone besides me, okay?”

“Why?” I pressed, brows pulling together.

He blew out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “It is a story for another time. One Rokath should tell you himself.”

Dissatisfied with his answer, but understanding I wouldn’t pry any more for him, I nodded. “Let’s go win that ring,” I said instead.

He relaxed and stepped back into the thoroughfare. “Follow my lead.”

I smothered the grin that wanted to bloom on my face. At least in this form, it was also easier to maintain some mental distance from Rokath too. And I hoped he wasn’t paying attention to the muted connection either. That would only flag that I was up to something I shouldn’t be.

As the males noticed Rapp’s approach, they all leaped to their feet and offered hasty salutes. “Hadvezér Rapp, we didn’t see you there.”

“At ease,” he said, opening his posture and holding a neutral stance. “We came to play cards.”

“Make room for the Hadvezér and…?” One of the males looked pointedly at me.

“Olrus,” I offered, my tattered heart twinging at the thought of my friend.

Has Kiira heard anything of his well-being?

Surely she would write to us once she had. True to her word, she’d spoken to Xannirin about it, who had personally penned the note Kiira sent south along with a new priestess to take over for Anara.

“Olrus is in the Zene Squad,” Rapp commented, taking a seat beside the male who had spoken. I settled on his other side.

“This is Százados Gozzak, Madar Squad,” Rapp introduced the male who had spoken. The male who supposedly had my mother’s ring.

I dipped my head to him in deference but eyed him warily.

“You arrived at the right time, I was about to deal the first hand,” Gozzak commented, shuffling a deck of worn cards.

“What game are we playing tonight?” Rapp asked him.

“Omur,” Gozzak replied with a sly grin.

Rapp barked a laugh. I hoped that was a good sign.

“Deal us in,” he told Gozzak. Then, from his pocket, he produced a sack of coin and plopped it in the center of the table. “Put up your best bets, because I am feeling lucky.” He subtly dropped a few into my lap, and I placed the pile in front of me.

Gozzak held Rapp’s gaze and plopped a handful of metal on the table. When he removed his hand, a dainty gold ring sat atop the pile—one I would recognize anywhere.

My mother’s ring.

Rapp glanced sidelong at me, and I subtly dipped my chin. A few others around the table threw their own bets on the table, and then Gozzak handed the cards to another one of the males to deal. Once two had landed in front of all of us, I picked mine up, surreptitiously studying the players for any indication on how I was supposed to play. The dealer flipped three cards over in front of him.

Around the table, males stared at one another, even more intently studying me. I fought the urge to gulp and tightened my grip on the cards to stop my hands from shaking. “Zene Squad, you said?” one of them asked me.

“Aye,” I replied, not offering more that might get me in trouble.

“Are you under Arrand or Caane?” he asked, and others flicked their attention to me.

Fuck, I have no idea who they are. If they are real at all. Is this a test?

Subtly, Rapp tapped his cards twice against the table.

“Caane,” I blurted, hoping I’d read Rapp’s signal correctly.

“That fucker. He cheated last time we played cards. Hope he’s not teaching your squad his dirty tricks.” That pulled a chuckle from around the table, and then the attention swerved to the bets.

I nearly slumped with relief.

Some either added or removed coins from their pile, and unsure what would indicate whether or not I should make such adjustments, I left mine as it was. Rapp added to his pile, sporting a malicious grin. He leveled his gaze on Gozzak, who wore a mirror expression. “I’m glad you joined us tonight, Hadvezér Rapp. Few can beat me in cards, though tonight is not your lucky night I am afraid.”

“And why is that?” Rapp intoned, tilting his head slightly as if he were daring the Százados to challenge him further.

“I guess we shall see when we fan out our cards,” he grinned back, exuding an air of utter confidence.

The dealer flipped another card, and a round of groans sounded around me. Some tossed their hands to the middle of the table, while others altered their bets. The male who had questioned me was among them. He made another playful jab about Caane’s cheating, to which I merely chuckled a response.