She sucked at a pipe, smoke rings circling her white-haired head and cool-toned walnut skin. She wore an impeccably pressed coat that reminded Stix of a Nubrevnan naval uniform, except where her own coat in Lovats was navy, Kahina’s was rich, starfish red—and Stix suddenly felt like a new recruit, failing to meet muster in her sweat-sticky white blouse and brown breeches.

One more thing she missed from home: her clothes.

Beside Kahina stood the Hammer, his stone arm gone. He looked at Stix and Ryber with no attempt to conceal his annoyance. Up close, Stix’s spectacles revealed amber-brown skin and black hair coiled into six long tails like she’d seen on some travelers from a southern stretch on the Fareastern continent.

“I don’t throw fights,” he said in Dalmotti with a slight accent, and Stix frowned, confused.

Ryber, however, understood his implication immediately. “We aren’t here to bribe you.” She moved in front of Stix with liquid ease and puffed out her chest with the confidence of a well-seasoned merchant. Her ware, of course, was Stix.

They’d played these parts—trainer and fighter—enough times now that Stix should have been comfortable with them. But unlike Ryber, who could slip as easily into roles as she could new clothes, Stix always felt stiff. She didn’t have the Sight; she’d seen very little of the world outside of Nubrevna; even speaking in Dalmotti required concentration because she hadn’t practiced it in almost a decade.

“We have come to offer you the fighter of a lifetime.” Ryber offered Kahina an Illryan-style bow: fist to forehead, chin dipping low. They’d heard that Kahina, like Ryber, had roots in Illrya. “I present to you, Stix of Nubrevna.”

“Sticks of Nubrevna?” Kahina puffed her pipe. “Never heard of her.”

“Because this is her debut in the Slaughter Ring.” Ryber flashed a smooth smile. Another braid sprang free. “Until now, she has only ever fought in Lovats.”

This was true. The extent of Stix’s spectator sporting had been done at the Cleaved Man every sevenday.

“She was called the Water Brawler there,” Ryber added. “And she’s never lost a fight.”

Also true.

“And you are the first Master of the Ring we’ve approached with this opportunity.”

Definitely a lie.

Kahina sniffed. “Another Tidewitch. We have plenty of those in the Ring.” She shifted away.

Stix stepped forward. “I’m a Waterwitch, actually. A full Waterwitch.” To prove her point, she offered her right hand to Kahina and let her title dangle in the air like bait on a hook. Her Witchmark hung there too, a hollow diamond indicating full mastery over all forms of water.

Kahina paused. “A full Waterwitch, you say.” Her honey-dark eyes sharpened onto Stix’s face. Seconds drifted past.

And Stix slowly felt their roles reverse. She became the bait. She became the target of a fish too large to escape.