Free Fantasy of Flight by Kelly St. Clare

you’ll use it against Slay in the final,” Flurry predicts.
    “I doubt it. I don’t even know the first thing about the tournament.”
    Ice joins our discussion as he scoops eggs onto his plate. “Not much to know. Each barrack can enter how many people they want. Most put all of their guys in. And there are three prizes. Top Solo, Top Group Fight, and Overall Barrack.”
    Shard appears with several bottles as I question the others in more depth. He drags one out and fills up a wooden mug for each of us. Crystal hesitates before accepting hers. I share a sympathetic look with her, while feeling sorry for myself at the same time. She grins, mouthing “uh-oh” at me.
    “A toast!” Blizzard says. Whenever I hear those words it makes me miss my delegate friends.
    Not for the first time, I long to see them. Did Malir get in trouble for letting me escape? How are Rhone and his team of dogs? Are Fiona and Jacquiline worried about what to wear to the next ball? Do Roman and Sanjay still swap disgusting jokes? And are Adnan, Sadra and Greta all okay? What about little Cameron? And, Kaura, my puppy. She won’t be a puppy anymore. I never intended to leave her, or any of my other friends, for so long. One taste of freedom and I’m willing to give them up entirely. What kind of person does this make me? What if I was born into a normal life, one without a tortured childhood and without the weight of so many responsibilities and burdens?
    I hold up my cup alongside everyone else’s. I’ve gone through the motion many times now. Too many times. I’ve learned my lesson, too. I either water it down or stop at a few. Malir, one of the delegates and the head Watchman, gave me this tip. Sometimes I wake with a slight headache, but it is rare. It’s actually quite enjoyable when I control how much I have.
    “To the best record we’ve ever had!” The men take healthy gulps of the drink. I take a small sip. I don’t splutter and cough anymore. I’m quite proud of the fact, though it makes me worry about how my insides are faring. Crystal does the spluttering instead. I get up and pat her on the back as Sanjay’s wife, Fiona, once did for me as the men laugh.
    Everyone takes a turn going around and making toasts. Soon it’s my turn.
    “A toast!” I yell over loud laughter and the strumming of Blizzard’s patched guitar. I found out who created the haunting music, the drunken night after my first pit fight. I thought he was nearly as good as the man who played at the castle ball.
    Avalanche steadies me as I lean to the side.
    “Don’t you laugh at me!” I stab a finger at Shard’s shaking form. He shakes harder and is joined by Ice.
    I ignore their silly man moment. “To the barracks, for…” I search my mind for the rest of the sentence.
    “For what?” We all spin to see Alzona in the doorway. Ice starts and catches himself on Flurry’s arm. I point and giggle.
    “For throwing us in a fighting pit each week!” Blizzard yells.
    “For putting us with fighters we ain’t going to beat,” Ice adds, pounding the table.
    “For not training us hard enough!” I yell and laugh with the others. Ice covers my mouth with one hand. I roll my eyes at the added proof of his laziness.
    “For shitty mattresses!” Flurry howls to the roof. We stop and look at him. He shrugs. I glance over at Alzona as the others rib Flurry about his comment. Crystal is talking to her, holding her hand. Alzona rips her hand away and storms off. Crystal sighs and runs a hand through her long, straight hair. I run over what we’ve all just said and realize it wasn’t particularly nice.
    I swirl the remaining contents of my cup, remembering why I choose not to drink large amounts. The others hit their glasses together as Shard stands on the bench and sings a loud bawdy song to Blizzard’s strumming. I give the expected smile, but the mood is ruined for me.
    I think about the way Alzona left and I get up from the table, taking my cup with me.