The warlock extricated himself awkwardly, pulling back and glaring. She got to her feet, curtseyed and gave him a saucy wink.

Bob and I started to giggle. I clamped my hand over my mouth to try and stop myself. Speck continued to glare but his eyes flickered with amusement – and what I thought might be a tinge of longing.

I straightened up. I was going to win these damned Games and I’d worry later about what happened next. There would be time enough for apologies and recriminations once I had the prize in my hands. If could get back the Adair lands, I’d be making headway towards returning my Clan to where they deserved to be.

*

The remaining competitors congregated at a tent by the entrance to the main field, where we’d been a few days earlier for the opening ceremony. As we entered, we were patted down; we were not permitted to bring in anything for this challenge. I was searched more thoroughly than the others but I submitted without complaint; if they didn’t find anything on me now, they couldn’t plant anything on me later.

As I looked round, it seemed that the numbers were considerably depleted. Whether it was because of injuries sustained in the Adventure challenge or because some contestants knew that they’d never win, I estimated that we were now down around seventy in total - almost half the original number.

Just like last time, Byron and Tipsania hovered at the front. One of the Scrymgeours was patting Tipsania’s brow with a small towel, like she was some kind of prize fighter. I rolled my eyes. Ridiculous.

‘We’ve lost a lot of people,’ Angus murmured by my side.

I nodded. ‘But there are still too many more.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re the only Chieftain competing so it stands to reason that you’ll beat everyone else. Besides, I caught a whisper that the number of competitors is about to dwindle even more.’

I frowned but he merely smiled and pointed to the front. Byron was studiously avoiding looking in my direction; his focus was fixed on the Carnegie official who’d just appeared from the tunnel.

‘Clan competitors!’ the official called.

It was difficult to hear him over the hubbub and he wasn’t throwing his voice. Byron held up a hand and everyone fell silent. I bit down the temptation to start chattering loudly to Angus, not because I wanted to annoy Byron but because the naughty child inside me would do almost anything to get his attention. What was wrong with me? I wasn’t a lovesick teenager; hell, I’d never been like this even when I was a teenager. I hated myself ‒ but I still wished he’d look at me.

‘To make the final round as fair and interesting as possible,’ the Carnegie official intoned, ‘we are going to weed out the chaff. Only the leading competitor from each Clan will be allowed to compete in the Acumen challenge.’

My brow furrowed. ‘Did he really just call almost fifty Sidhe nobles chaff?’ I murmured to Angus. ‘That’s brave.’