The last notes faded away and an imperious voice sounded over a microphone. I recognised it immediately; it belonged to the Carnegie lordling whom I’d seen on the ship where Debbie the Spider was being held. Knowing who he was ‒ and what a prick he was ‒ would it make it easier to sneer in his face when he ejected me.

‘Clan Moncrieffe. Who will stand for you?’

‘Clan Scrymgeour,’ boomed the Bull.

‘Clan Calder,’ added another voice.

‘Clan Orrock.’

‘Clan Moncrieffe has the requisite three votes and is permitted to compete.’

My fingers jerked and I bunched my hands into fists to avoid giving a slow, sarcastic round of applause.

‘Scrymgeour,’ the official grunted. ‘You’re next.’

I folded my arms. No doubt that was because of Tipsania’s relationship with Byron. I tried to keep the sour grimace off my face as she trooped out with four others from her Clan. The same pattern was followed: loud, tuneless music, the voices of three other Clans stating their support, and then acceptance into the Games. I plonked myself down, sitting cross-legged on the ground. If this was going to take a while then I was going to conserve my energy.

The others joined me as the Kincaids were called. ‘Tell us a joke, Tegs,’ Speck urged.

I raised my eyebrows. ‘I thought you all hated my jokes.’

‘We do,’ he responded cheerfully.

I smiled. ‘What do you call a faerie who hasn’t taken a bath?’

‘I don’t know, Tegs,’ Lexie said in a loud voice, ensuring that as many of the other competitors as possible heard her. ‘What do you call a faerie that hasn’t taken a bath?’

‘Stinkerbell.’

She collapsed in laughter and Speck and Taylor followed her lead. Even Brochan managed a guffaw. They might be faking their amusement but the irritated glances we received from those around us were well worth it.

One by one the Clans were called and each was quickly granted entrance to the Games. It seemed like a long wait but suddenly we were the only people remaining and I had to stride out there alone because my friends weren’t Sidhe and couldn’t participate. It suddenly felt like the last hour had flown by.

There was a final bellowing roar from the crowd as the MacQuarries passed muster. Taylor straightened. ‘You’d better go.’ He threw me a look. ‘We’ll be watching, Tegs. You’re not on your own in this.’

I smiled at him but we all knew that when it came to rejection – especially rejection on such a wholescale level – you were always on your own. It was always personal. I stood up and dusted myself off.

‘How do I look?’ I asked.

‘Gorgeous.’ Lexie paused. ‘Apart from that big smudge of dirt on your cheek.’

I lifted my hand to my face and started rubbing. ‘What smudge?’ Lexie had already turned her back. ‘Wait!’ I yelled. ‘Is it still there?’