Stepping into the arena in the early hours of the morning was like stepping into a dream. It felt weird and disjointed being here, like I had suddenly transitioned from one nightmare into another, and wasn’t entirely sure what horrors this new nightmare had to offer.

Being back in the arena so soon after the sentinel’s attack was hard. My anxiety was partially based on the fact that I couldn’t seem to reconcile that just yesterday, we had been out in the Tower, looking for Tian, fighting the sentinel—and now we were suddenly back in the world of the Tourney, where everything was… less than direct.

At least the sentinel presented a clear target. At least I knew what she was. Here, I couldn’t be certain what or whom to believe, and the juxtaposition left me feeling like my skin was drawn slightly too tight, and my heart was being powered by a mouse running circles in a very rickety wheel.

Not to mention, failure was not an option. Not with Lacey’s threat hanging over our heads. And not with the fate of the Tower hanging in the balance. I couldn’t risk letting anyone else get into the position of Champion, especially with potential legacy agents running around the Tourney. I couldn’t be sure, of course, but I doubted very much that the other legacy family that Devon had been working with would allow anyone other than one of their own into the position.

Which meant that no matter how weird it was to suddenly have to be back in the Tourney, I had to focus. Because anyone here could be an enemy. Even my parents. Even our new teammate—whoever that might be.

The halls under the arena were presided over by ghostly images of Ambrose projected in full holographic glory on the walls, adding a somber cast to the already quiet hall. His eyes followed me, so direct was his gaze toward the camera—and it sent chills down my back as we walked down the halls, heading for the meeting area.

It was early, but I could already hear the distant rumble of noise on the level above, telling me that hundreds of people were beginning to pour in to witness the next challenge unfold on the screens that lined the walls. Everyone was now watching the Tourney with a guarded eye and a heavy heart—waiting and searching for enemies who dared interfere with the sanctity of the Tower.

I followed Maddox as she led us through the halls, passing by security checkpoints that not only involved a net scan, but also a retinal, fingerprint, and DNA screening, as well as a rigorous pat-down (that overlooked Quess’s newly modified bracelet). I probably shouldn’t have risked sneaking it past the officials, but I didn’t want to worry about the sentinel popping up again without having something on me for protection against it. Eventually we stopped at a set of doors, where we went through another very thorough scanning and pat-down before we were permitted inside. And there, we found the other candidates waiting.

The walls glowed with pictures—a large one of Ambrose hung at the far end, on the wall, but the rest were images from the Tourney. A live feed of what was being shown above. I stepped into the room, drawn by the vivid and colorful images, and wound up seeing one of my mother lashing her way through the arches of the Citadel. She moved so fluidly, her motions making it look like she was swimming through the air, rather than flying. She lacked my flair, of course, but I could see some of the grace she had clearly passed on to me, right there in the video.

Watching her, I suddenly realized I still hadn’t heard from her since the confrontation between her and my father. She’d said she would net me, but, come to think of it, she still hadn’t. Suddenly made nervous by her lack of communication, I began scanning the crowd of people, searching for her form, worried. What if the fight between my mother and father had been more severe than I’d thought? What if something had happened to her?

Or worse, what if I had been duped by them, and they were now planning on attacking me in the Tourney?

Then I spotted my mother standing on the other side of the room with my father. And she was next to him, but her body language put them miles apart. I hesitated, uncertain exactly what I had expected to see, and baffled by the standoffishness between them. I wasn’t sure if I should approach her and find out what happened, or give her space and time to process… whatever the hell had happened after I left their apartment.

Suddenly I heard a sharp beep in my ear—the sound notifying me that a new transmission had come in to my pad—and tore my gaze from my mother, eager for any distraction from that particular problem. I pulled the flat screen from my pocket and clicked it on. Noticing the icon for my messages glowing, I tapped it to see a message from the Tourney Committee, announcing the results of the lottery.

I waved a hand to Leo and Maddox, catching their attention and ushering them over. As soon as they were with me, I tapped the View Match option. Frederick Hamilton’s image filled the screen, along with his credentials and public background information. Information that excluded that he was distantly related to Ezekial Pine, the head of one of the first legacy families within the Tower. Lacey’s family had apparently hunted them down and killed them off when they discovered their role in attacking Scipio—but had missed Frederick’s line due to a divorce.

We had no idea whether Frederick knew about his heritage, or was working for another legacy family. But we couldn’t take the chance. If he was working for our enemies, then they wouldn’t hesitate to order him to try to kill me and the others. We would have to use our one veto on him, and take our chances with the second candidate. It was too risky not to.

I opened my mouth to tell my friends, but Maddox reached out and hit the reject button on the pad. The screen began to cycle through pictures of other candidates, selecting the next possible teammate, and I gave her an appraising look while it did so.

She met my gaze and gave me a wry smile. “You were going to do it anyway,” she said, and I nodded, an unexpected smile growing on my lips.

“Fair point,” I replied, dragging my eyes back down to the pad and watching as faces cycled by at rapid speeds. A part of me really hoped that my mother would come up—even though it was impossible, as her team was still intact.

The images finally slowed and then came to a stop, and I blinked at Dylan Chase’s image as it filled the screen, surprise rippling through me.

For a moment, I felt relief. In spite of her rather terrifying speech, I’d found that I kind of liked her. She struck me as confident and caring, if not a little aggressive and misguided. And maybe she’d just played up what she thought her fellow Knights had wanted to hear; every Knight in the Citadel had likely been dreaming of getting vengeance for Ambrose’s death since they had learned of his murder, so why wouldn’t she perform to that?

Then dread crept up behind me, reminding me that she wanted to be Champion as well. That she could be an enemy in disguise. Or worse, ignorant, but downright better than me.

There was no second veto, though, so we were stuck with her. Still, it wasn’t all bad. She was a formidable fighter, and smart. I was certain that those traits would be useful to us.

“I can’t believe we have Dylan,” Maddox said, giving me a look. “She’s really good.”

“Yeah, I know,” I replied, not needing her to help out the choir of self-doubt that had started to sing inside me. “But there’s nothing we can do. Let’s just find her and get this over with.”

“She’s found us,” Leo said, and I turned to see Dylan making her way over to us in a liquid gait that exuded confidence and ease. I straightened my shoulders, fixing what I hoped would be a nice smile on my face, and moved over to her. It was best to start on a good foot, rather than a bad one.

“Dylan,” I said when she drew near. “Welcome to the—”

“I already know that you two are supporting Liana,” she said, brushing by and ignoring me completely. Instead, she addressed her comments to Maddox and Leo. “And I understand why—she is formidable. But I think you’ve also seen what I have to offer, and you know what I’m capable of. So I’m here to ask you to reconsider your loyalties, and select me as the new leader of the team.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as she spoke, confident in the knowledge that there was nothing she could say to convince my teammates to back her. Instead, I took a moment to admire the sheer audacity and confidence of the woman in front of me. She was tenacious, but a straight shooter, and I kind of liked that.

Even if she was intimidating as all get out.

She shot a sardonic look over her shoulder at me, and then turned back to my friends. From this angle, I could see the lopsided grin she gave them—one that drew a deep dimple out in her cheek. “I take it from Liana’s reaction that the answer is a no. That’s too bad, although I do appreciate loyalty. You can’t blame a girl for trying, am I right?”

She laughed, the sound genuine and earthy, and then slapped both Maddox and Leo on the shoulders. “It’s really nice to meet you both,” she said, holding out a hand and grabbing Leo’s, giving it a shake. “I’m Dylan Chase.”

She turned to Maddox, her hand extended, but Maddox neatly deflected it and took a step directly into her personal space. Both girls were about the same height, and Maddox was glaring at her, disdain stamped on her features. “You don’t impress me, scare me, or charm me, lady. I know you want to be Champion, which means that you could try to sabotage Liana’s chances in the Tourney, and I’m here to tell you that if you lay one finger on her I will snap them all off and feed them to the pigs in the Menagerie. Do you get me?”

Dylan blinked, but her smile deepened as she gave Maddox a wry look. “Does that usually work, or are you just having an off day?”

Maddox growled, and I felt a sudden urge to intervene. “Maddox, back off,” I told her. “Dylan, show a little respect. Maddox was there when…” I trailed off and gave Maddox an apologetic look, and realized her face had gone stark white. I licked my lips and quickly changed tactics. “We lost a teammate, and found out that people have infiltrated the Tourney, on the same day. You’ll have to forgive us if we’re a bit paranoid.”

Dylan considered me, and then exhaled. “That is a fair point,” she said. “And I’m sorry if I came on a little strong earlier, but my aunt says that if you don’t ask for what you want, you’ll never get it, and I live by that. But that doesn’t mean I can’t take no for an answer, either. And look… Maddox, is it?” Maddox had managed to work some blood back into her cheeks, but still looked haunted, even as she met Dylan’s gaze with an automatic nod. “I can and will be a team player, but you do realize that, due to the lottery, there are going to be some changes to how the Tourney is judged, right?”

“They are changing some of the rules?” Leo asked, his words faster than my own thoughts could formulate. Still, I had the same question myself.

Dylan gave us both confused looks, blinking at us. “Didn’t you get the announcement? It was sent out yesterday, after the memorial.”

I looked at Maddox and Leo, and frowned. None of us had noticed, but then again, we’d had a pretty full day yesterday. “We were all pretty torn up after the funeral,” I said, improvising a feasible lie. “I don’t think any of us even looked at a pad yesterday.”

“Ah, well, none of the rule changes were included in the announcement,” Dylan announced dismissively, folding her arms over her chest. “But all I ask is that when they are, you give me a chance to at least be on even footing by the end.”

I was in the process of considering her request—and wondering why she spoke as if she knew what the changes were, even though she insisted she didn’t—when the lights went out. Moments later, Scipio appeared, replacing the images of Ambrose and the videos from the Tourney.

“Welcome, candidates,” he said, his holographic image filling the screens with bright blue eyes and inky black hair that was tied back behind his neck. “Under normal circumstances, I would congratulate you all for making it to the next challenge in the Tourney, but I know what a bitter pill that would be to swallow, given the insidious betrayal and tragic loss we have suffered. Instead, today, you are faced with chaos and confusion, as a much beloved tradition of the Knights is tossed upside down and thrown into chaos.

“I wish to assure you that the officials put a great deal of thought into making the following changes. After reviewing them, I find that they will make the alterations in teams and leadership more equitable for all parties. As such, the following modifications are to be made. Number one: due to the loss of candidates, we will be expediting the Tourney. As such, there will only be three more challenges to decide which candidate will become the next Champion.”

There were a few gasps at this announcement, but everyone in the crowd accepted it. It took me a moment, but after a while, I did as well; it only reduced the number of challenges by one, which made sense due to the fact that we had lost three teams. There was no need for a fourth challenge.

“Next,” Scipio continued, his voice rolling through the room. “Rank will no longer matter when it comes to selecting the team leaders. If the majority of a team selects someone with the rank of Elite over that of Commander, then that person will be acknowledged as the team’s leader until the end of the Tourney.”

Another fair ruling. With teams being assigned through lottery, it made sense to compensate for the randomization process. Now that rank was no longer an issue, the candidates would be free to support whomever they wanted.

“Now, because we know there could be multiple candidates on the same team vying for the position of Champion, we will be allowing leadership to change from challenge to challenge. All those who were nominated as leaders of their teams before the lottery took place will have a chance to command their teams, and will be judged not only on their ability to lead, but their ability to follow as well. Therefore, it is crucial for those who are serious about becoming Champion to also allow themselves to be led during any one of the next two challenges. That being said, you can steal command should you feel that the current leader’s actions will only lead your team to defeat. I urge you to be careful doing this, because a failed play for the leadership role will only hurt your chances of becoming Champion.”

I sucked in a deep breath, trying to wrap my head around what I was hearing. Basically, if I wanted to be Champion, I would need to let Dylan take control of the team for a challenge. I could try and take it back during the challenge, but so could she. A quick glance at Dylan and the crooked smirk she was wearing told me that she was both pleased and unsurprised by the ruling, and I suddenly found myself wondering if she somehow had advance knowledge of what the rules were going to be.

And then I wondered what it mattered if she had. It certainly wasn’t proof of anything other than that she was friends with some of the officials. That wasn’t a crime. Besides, if she had known that she would have the chance to lead, she wouldn’t have come on so hard with Leo and Maddox earlier.

On second thought, I realized that she might have approached them like that anyway, if only to test their loyalty, and to see if she could turn them against me.

“In light of these changes, the final challenge will be a free-for-all. Teams can still work together, if they like, but the winner of the final challenge will have the best chance of being named the next Champion.”

This put Dylan and me on an even playing field. Or, it would, if my teammates and I supported her for leadership. I was well aware that Maddox, Leo, and I could just as easily nominate each other as leader, but I realized that doing so could hurt my chances with the Knights themselves. Dylan was a crowd favorite, and if our team purposefully kept her from getting a chance to lead, it could damage my chances irreparably.

I needed to make sure that the others understood that. It sucked, but there was nothing else I could do except focus on the challenges, and worry about Dylan and the new rules later.

“Today’s challenge is called Wayfinder. In keeping with the tradition of the Tourney, Wayfinder replicates the conditions of one of the Tower’s greatest tragedies—Requiem Day, when the machines went down and the Tower was cast into darkness. The challenge is designed to test a candidate’s virtue, patience, and sense of honor in the face of humanity’s darkest moments. Due to heightened security, however, further details will be withheld until you get to the entry point. I wish you good luck and fortune in the challenge ahead.”

Scipio held our gazes for a second or two longer, and then faded from the screen, to be replaced by a simple line of text reading, Please wait for an official to escort you to your starting location, in authoritative block print.

Seconds later, a Squire with bright yellow hair and sky-blue eyes approached us. “Please follow me,” she said, her voice soft yet formal.

I waited while Maddox double checked the girl’s credentials against the message we’d received from Tourney officials with the name and picture of our escort (another security feature), and after some pretty heavy scrutiny, Maddox begrudgingly waved for the Squire to proceed.

I turned to scan the crowd, looking for my mother again, but couldn’t find her in the press of people moving to get out. Disappointed that I hadn’t gotten to say anything to her, I tucked my hands in my pockets and followed my team out, thinking that perhaps it was for the best if I didn’t worry about her right now. I already had my hands full with facing the next challenge. Not only with winning, but also with making sure that Dylan didn’t upstage me.

Fun.