Full-Blood Half-Breed by Cleve Lamison

Author:Cleve Lamison [Lamison, Cleve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-345-54913-6
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2014-03-11T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Making Mongrels

Fox the Runt had to split the winner’s purse with the mongrel. After receiving his six and a half gold coronas from Eisesland’s king, Egon the Gallant of House Hammerfaust, he went to meet Pía, head hung low like a man going to the gallows. If he had lost her because of the archery trial and that stupid mongrel …

But all seemed well when he met her. She appeared in good spirits. She was with a handful of Santosians, including Prelado Scrupulous, Karl, and Tinashe, waiting for him in Círculo del Triunfo. His fellow Santosians wrapped him in hugs and showered him with congratulations. After years as an outcast, spurned by his own family, the unconditional love offered by the Santosians was such a foreign thing he found it awkward. Pía sensed his trepidation. She whispered in his ear, “We are all children of The One God, Zwergfuchs. Family. We share in your joy. Your victory is ours.”

“ ‘Victory’?” he said.

She smiled. “Do not look so worried, my Zwergfuchs.”

“But your aunt—”

“The Interpretación said that you must go undefeated. A stalemate is not a defeat.”

“But Osvaldo,” he said. “He could still win the adult trial—”

She silenced him with a finger to his lips. “I told you. I knew you were for me from the moment I saw you!” She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her lips to his with such passion he nearly swooned. Time stopped until the embrace ended. “We are off to temple. Will you join us?”

He nodded. In truth, he had nowhere else to go. He followed his friends—his family—through streets more lively than ever he could recall. Revelers spilled out of taverns and inns, singing and laughing. The whole city danced with celebration. With Pía on his arm, it was the first time since he had come to Santuario del Guerrero that he shared in the joy surrounding Torneo. They strolled through the citywide festival, laughing along with the drunken rabble.

Karl clapped him on the back. “Fox, mein freund, that was the best bow work I have seen since Fräu Cruelarrow competed. Perhaps you are better even than she, eh?”

Fox the Runt clenched his teeth at the mention of the mongrel’s mother, but said nothing. At least no one mentioned the halbrasse, thank The One God.

Prelado Scrupulous said, “If you are as good with lance and sword as you are with bow and arrow, perhaps you truly are a champion sent by The One God!”

“What do you mean, ‘perhaps’?” Pía said, golden eyes blazing. “His skill with sword and lance is beside the point; The One God has sent him to us.”

The way she looked at him, with such respect and admiration, filled him with desire.

“I am so proud of you,” she said, wrapping him in a hug and planting more kisses on his face. The others walked ahead, giving them as much privacy as was possible in the crowded street. “But I am curious. Why did you spit at that blended boy?”

He felt his jaw tighten.

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