A line of delicate glass flowers sprouted from the stage floor below the egg. They looked like three-foot-tall dandelions, each topped with a white sphere the size of a basketball swirling with white and gold. One orb per candidate. When a candidate’s name was called, their orb would descend under the floor so they couldn’t accidentally choose themselves for the debate.

I bounced the white light between sections, highlighting their retaining walls, and stopped on Team Frowns. A small section of the front wall slid aside, and a ramp unfurled from the gap leading down to the bottom of the arena.

Ellenda rose. She wore a black robe with an elaborately pleated, deep hood. It was an odd choice. I’d noticed it when their delegation took their seats. The fabric of her garment was plain, almost coarse. It looked out of place compared to everyone else’s formal wear.

The Uma woman descended the stairs, approached the orbs, and lowered her hood. Kosandion became very still. Her face and neck were splattered with gold paint.

I had encountered only three Umas counting Ellenda, and one of them had stayed at my parents’ inn. He also wore the gold paint. I was six years old back then, and I told him he looked very pretty. My father apologized and later explained things to me. The Uma wore that gold paint when they were in mourning. Someone either died or was about to.

It was a safe bet that nobody in the arena recognized the gold for what it was. The Uma guarded their culture very closely. But Kosandion would know. They were his mother’s people. Why was she here if she was in mourning?

“Choose your opponent,” the First Scholar Thek prompted, indicating the orbs with a sweep of his wing. They looked identical.

Ellenda put her hand on the closest orb. Its transparent shell popped like a soap bubble, releasing a swarm of glowing golden insects into the air. They surged up, turned, streaked to the Murder Beaks’ section, and hovered around Pivor.

Pivor rose with a big smile, bowed to the left, bowed to the right, grinned again, displaying even, white teeth, and made his way down the stairway that formed from his section. He crossed the arena and stood opposite Ellenda. They faced each other with ten feet between them. Tiny blue sparks by their ears announced their mikes being activated.

“The question the two of you must contemplate today is…” The First Scholar paused dramatically. “What is more important, happiness or duty? You have one hundred moments to consider your answer.”

The arena fell silent. Seconds ticked by.

The First Scholar’s egg turned white. The time to prepare ran out.

“Daughter of Uma,” Thek said, “The floor is yours.”

“Duty,” Ellenda said.

The First Scholar turned to Pivor.

“Happiness,” the Murder Bird candidate said.

Silence.