As Rune drove away, Adam said, “Good luck with that.”

Lifting the tent flap, he walked into the dim light.

He was alone. He heard half-hearted cheers; the other knight must still be in the arena, parading around, as Rune said, in shiny armor. He was welcome to all the adulation. What did Adam care?

He knew what was important. Elle was recovering from her ordeal at sea. She would recover from the fight she’d fought today with Zsóke. Elle was well worth the trouble she caused him. If he could, he would keep her close to cause him trouble forever.

He looked out of the peephole created by a tear in the curtains. The tent opened directly into the arena. Spectators lined the fence by the hundreds. At the opposite side of the arena, Angelica Lindholm, Mr. and Mrs. Kulshan, and the Shivering Sherlocks sat on the elevated dais.

Angelica was speaking to the elderly couple.

Mrs. Kulshan was paying no attention. Mr. Kulshan looked as if he was debating whether listening was worth the elevated view.

Striding up and down the length of the arena was Adam’s opponent, waving his sword, encouraging the cheers. Rune was right: this knight was so shiny that he hurt the eyes. He was tall, massively muscled if the armor was to be believed, and wore a massive steel mesh belt hung with a mace and a battle-ax. And that codpiece! “Way to be subtle,” Adam muttered. He would bet this guy in the armor drove a huge pickup, raced up behind every car and flashed his lights, and at every opportunity bullied his way through traffic, and life.

A sense of wrongness nagged at Adam, and he studied Mr. Shiny Pants.

Who was he?

The way the guy bent his knees, the way he moved his shoulders, was so awkward Adam thought his plate armor didn’t fit correctly, or perhaps he’d gone the drugs and alcohol route before he’d shoved himself into his costume.

Tamalyn stuck her head in the back of the tent. “Hi, um, Rune said to tell you the crowd is getting more restless. Would you step out and prance around a little, give them something else to look at?”

Adam faced her and glared. “Prance?”

“Show yourself. Until your sword arrives.” She started backing away. “Shouldn’t be too long. You know Elle will get here as quickly as she can.”

“I know.” Adam debated, but Tamalyn looked so embarrassed and wretchedly hopeful. “I can do that.”

Tamalyn was gone before he finished.

Adam steeled himself to step out and have people stare.

Why had he agreed to do this?

Oh. That’s right. Rune had asked him to help Gothic.

In other words—blackmail.

Taking a breath, Adam threw back the tent flap and stepped out.

A roar of approval greeted him. The whole crowd had tired of Shiny Pants and wanted a new champion—and the locals wanted Adam.