When the door to the Wedding Hall had swung shut behind them, Milius wrenched his arm out of Regulus’s grasp and halted, staring at him. “Well?”

“Just along this corridor,” Regulus said, pointing. Milius eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then started back along the path. “So how are you enjoying the day so far?” Regulus continued.

“We're not doing this, Regulus. Just tell me what you want,” Milius said, his eyes fixed ahead of them.

Regulus sighed dramatically. “That's what being nice gets you nowadays.”

“Regulus.”

“All right, all right. Here.” He stopped just outside a polished oak door, whose handle was adorned with a golden ribbon. “Just inside.”

Milius opened the door with a little trepidation, and found Sirius, Shakil, and Ariana all waiting inside, looking bemused.

“Great, now can someone tell us what's going on?” Sirius said irritably.

“Impatient as always,” Regulus said, his eyes glinting as he closed the door behind them. "There's been a little change in plans. The Exhibition will take place at noon rather than late evening as initially intended.”

“What?” Shakil said, sounding shocked.

Regulus turned his cold blue eyes upon him, though he did not speak. After a moment's awkward pause, Shakil looked away.

“Yes, noon,” Regulus continued, as though there had been no interruption. “You will hear the sounding horn when it is time, and follow the hallway lined with the crimson carpet. Now remember, whatever is asked of you, you must do it well. It is a very important day for the King, and it won't do for his own subjects to embarrass him before the entire kingdom and the parties from others. Understood?”

The Knights nodded at him in unison.

“Good. Now I suggest you all prepare yourselves. Noon is only two hours away.” He smirked at both Sirius and Milius, then, taking as much notice of Shakil and Ariana as though they were part of the wall, he left.

“Shall we get back to the party, then?” Sirius said, after a moment’s silence.

“You go,” Milius said. “I'll wait upstairs.”

Sirius shrugged. He took Ariana’s hand and they started through the door, Shakil behind them, while Milius returned to his prepared bedroom. He stared out at what was visible of the festivities through his room windows, feeling both nervous and excited. According to Shakil and Calder, these other groups were like the Dragonknights of their own countries, and not much was known about them. He was eager to see what made them so special, and to prove, at last, which group was truly superior.

The next two hours seemed to simply slip by, so that one minute he was pacing the room, Palpatunde clutched in his fumbling hands, and the next, he stopped, the distinctive sound of the horn Regulus had mentioned ringing in his ears.

He took a deep breath and strode out of the room and down to the hallway where Regulus had taken them aside, where a deep crimson carpet lay just a door beyond. Sirius, Ariana, and Shakil came ambling along a few minutes later, and all four of them trudged along the red carpet together. Nobody spoke, but Milius knew that they were feeling as anticipative as he was.

The crimson carpet took them to another door, through which they could hear the muffled sound of a large, excited crowd. They exchanged looks, then Shakil, looking uncharacteristically grim, seized the door handle and pulled.

Milius’s gasp was lost amid a fresh blast of shrieks and screams. They were standing in a space behind the castle, looking up at an enormous, golden stadium, which shimmered in various colours every few seconds. The red carpet ended at the doorway, but just beyond the threshold was a huge, deep red line trailing all the way up to a corner of an immense, golden platform at the center of the stadium. From their position, Milius could see three other lines, blue, green, and yellow, all leading to different corners of the square as well.

The other three groups were already standing in their allotted positions, and as Milius, Shakil, Sirius, and Ariana treaded along the red line to their own corner, summoning their armours as they moved (they were now all able to produce their helmets and visors), Milius gazed around at the other occupants of the platform.

The group posted at the top left corner were all dressed in flowing, midnight-black robes, with hoods that cast their entire faces into shadow. There were three of them, one tall and stocky, the other two short and slim. These must have been the Void Hunters; the group posted opposite them, at the top right corner, was obviously the Sandstone Archers. They wore silvery-black bracers over pale yellow cloaks, with orange markings over their faces, each holding a different coloured bow and quivers of arrows slung over the backs. The shortest, a dark-haired female, carried a silver bow that almost resembled a harp. The man beside her held a green bow, and the last of the three bore a finely carved golden bow, studded with glittering shards of diamond. Milius looked at him intently for a moment, and realized, with a thrill of shock, that it was the same green-eyed man whose gaze he had met during the wedding.

But he did not look around as the Dragonknights took their place at the bottom left corner, opposite who appeared to be the Temporal Paladins. They were wearing long dove-white cloaks and large, differently coloured rings that glinted ominously in the sunlight. Milius felt a rush of eagerness and apprehension. Staring around at them all, he could almost feel a kind of aura emanating from each group. The event horn blew again, and with some reluctance he tore his eyes from his opponents and looked up at where the sound had been coming from.

Haygar, Porella, and Regulus, seated in elaborate golden thrones set in a much loftier position than all surrounding benches, were staring down at them. Beside them stood a Royal Guard, who was clutching at an enormous, jewel-studded horn. The crowd fell silent at once to listen as the Guard cleared his throat.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said in a strong, clear voice that carried the length of the entire stadium, “the delegation from Rhantar — the Void Hunters!” He indicated the black-robed group, who did not move or speak as the crowd applauded. “From Vergennes, the Sandstone Archers!” the guard continued, gesturing at the yellow-cloaked group.

All three of the Archers raised their bows in a kind of salute as the crowd rang with applause once more.

“Derwenton’s Temporal Paladins —” The white-cloaked Paladins waved cheerily as the crowd cheered. "And finally, from Halgaria — the new generation Dragonknights!”

Milius, Sirius, Ariana, and Shakil raised their swords as the crowd gave its loudest applause yet.

The Guard waved his hand for silence, then continued, “The objective of this Exhibition is simple. Use whatever means available to try to knock as many members of the opposing teams off of the stage. Whichever team has the most members left on the stage at the end — wins.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Sirius muttered.

“However,” the guard continued, “there will be a time limit of five minutes imposed upon this battle royale to make it more interesting. When this horn sounds again, you will begin. The rules — there are no rules. Simply do whatever is in your power to ensure your victory." He ended his speech with a twisted smile and turned to face the King. Milius used the opportunity to look around at the crowd.

He found the Elders, Minerva and her unknown companion, Frederick, Cole, Hestia, and Shakil and Ariana’s families sitting together in one of the higher rows, peering down at them, waving and cheering. He smiled and returned their cheery waves, then turned back to the guard as he straightened up and raised the horn to his lips. Any moment now —

The hoarse, harsh sound of the horn rent the air, echoing around the stadium, reverberating off the magnificent golden walls. For a split second, no one moved, no one spoke, no one seemed to even breathe; the four groups simply gazed around at their opponents, sizing them up —

Then Milius gasped. The tallest of the Void Hunters had vanished in a swish of his dark robes, then one of the Archers screamed.

Everyone around the stage burst into motion at the same time.

As Ariana flew out towards the remaining Hunters, one of the Paladins raised his ring finger; a piercing sapphire light emanated from the ring, enveloping the stadium, washing over everyone. A second later, the light cleared, but something was wrong.

The entire scene seemed to be moving in slow-motion. Ariana, who could move at incredible speeds due to Stormpyre’s abilities, seemed to take an eternity to reach her target; the faces of the surrounding crowd that he could see looked shocked; even the sounds issuing from them were oddly sluggish. Everything, even time itself, seemed to have slowed down — except the Paladins.

The first came hurtling into view, then kicked out, slamming his foot into Sirius’s face; at the same moment the second leapt towards one of the Archers —

Then the scene unfroze. Sirius was flying off the platform, but the Sandstone Archer, who, a second before, had been moving as slowly as everything else, whipped around and fired several arrows at the Paladin who had jumped at him in the mere blink of an eye: the arrows pierced through his cloak before he could even touch the Archer and went sailing off, the Paladin soaring along with them, screaming.

Milius realized that he alone hadn't moved so far, and went dashing off to meet one of the Hunters. As he raced along the stage, a glint of red caught his eye. Curious, he veered away from the Hunter and towards the edge, stopping a safe distance away, and saw, to his astonishment, Sirius hanging onto Vulcatrix, which he had used to pierce the wall of the stage to prevent himself from falling. Milius made to reach down to help him, but Sirius appeared to need no assistance at all; growling, he swung himself back onto the stage, taking Vulcatrix with him, and as he landed he slammed his elbow, almost lazily, into an oncoming Hunter.

A volley of arrows came streaking their way. Milius bounded forward, swinging his sword with a swiftness obtained in his training with the Elders, and cut them away. He glanced back in time to see Sirius slashing downwards with Vulcatrix, aiming for the Hunter sprawled at his feet — but the next moment, the sword ricocheted off the stage, with the Hunter’s robe flapping pointlessly on the ground. He had disappeared.

“What the —”

“Sir, behind you!” Milius shouted. He watched in horror as the Void Hunter who Sirius had made to strike suddenly erupted from Sirius’s own shadow, as though it were some strange, dark gateway. He planted his fist into Sirius’s face just as he turned, aghast, to see what was happening.

Another whistling sound pierced the air and Milius turned to see another arrow whizzing towards him. He swung, knocking it away, then smirked at the Archer who had fired — who was smirking back. The arrow spun in midair as though picked up by a strong breeze, then came shooting back to him. It struck the ground at Milius’s feet, who was too slow to react — several enormous vines burst forth from the point where the arrow had struck, binding him like many live manacles. Palpatunde clattered to the ground as the vines raised him into the air, pressing against him, crushing him, and two more arrows flew from the Archer’s bow —

There was a flash of silver and the arrows went clattering away. Shakil had jumped in front of Milius at the very last second. Grinning, he turned towards Milius, then whittled away at the vines with an incredible speed.

“Thanks!” Milius gasped. He lunged for Palpatunde, then struck the vine wriggling around at his feet. It drained of life before him, then exploded into a cloud of dust. “Move!” he yelled at Shakil, but even as he shouted, a mane of shining red hair came into view, and Ariana swung Stormpyre, sending a gust of wind that swept Shakil into the air.

A second Paladin closed in on Milius, his ring finger raised, as the Archer whom he had seen in the wedding hall took aim again —

The energy burst outwards, striking the Paladin at point-blank range; he screamed as the blast forced him off the stage, but the Archer was ready. He launched an arrow at his own feet, summoning a dome of yellowish-white energy, but the shield shattered under the force of the mana, and the Archer went skidding across the smooth, gleaming surface.

Milius straightened up, ready to find a new target, when he froze, staring at the ground ahead of him. A rippling shadow was gliding across the platform towards him, though there was nothing in sight that was casting it. Then, just as it had happened with Sirius, an actual human being bloomed from the shadow, emerging onto the platform with a very nasty smile. Milius made to lift Palpatunde, but he was utterly paralyzed. His eyes darted from the approaching Hunter to his own body, and saw that his own shadow was stretching along his body, immobilizing him.

The Hunter roared with laughter. Cracking his knuckles, he smacked Milius across the face. Blood spurted from his mouth, splattering against the golden platform, and the Hunter attacked again. But before his fist could connect, another arrow came pelting towards them.

The Hunter vanished completely, leaving only his robes behind, but the arrow suddenly exploded, igniting the arena again. With a bloodcurdling scream, the Hunter was blasted out of his shadow and across the stage, onto the smooth, velvety grass. Milius too felt the force of the blast; he was blown out of his shadow’s grip and sent skidding across the platform. But Ariana suddenly appeared behind him, slowing him to a stop before he could slide off.

“Thanks,” he panted.

“No prob —”

Light enveloped the arena again, and when it had cleared, Ariana had completely disappeared. Milius looked up, Palpatunde clutched tightly in his grip. Everyone he could see was in an entirely different position than they had been in a second ago, and Sirius was actually fighting a different opponent; the one he had been dealing with a second ago was nowhere in sight.

“TWENTY!” the crowd roared abruptly. Milius heaved himself up, stunned. They were counting down to the end of the match — it couldn't have been over four minutes already?

“EIGHTEEN! SEVENTEEN!”

Milius looked around, determined to take someone else off before the match ended. He rushed off, glancing around desperately. Everyone seemed to be taken.

“TEN! NINE!”

The arena suddenly began to rumble; the ground was cracking apart, sending shards of the platform's golden surface leaping into the air like abnormally-sized fish. Milius knew what was coming and had no way to prevent it. Ahead of him, the Sandstone Archer with the golden bow was struggling to remain upright, and a Void Hunter was determinedly closing in on him.

“FIVE! FOUR!”

Milius took aim and flung, as hard as he could, and just as he toppled off the platform, he glimpsed the Hunter tumbling off as Palpatunde swept his feet out from under him.

“ONE!”

Groaning and wincing, Milius looked up as the crowd leapt to their feet, applauding thunderously. He looked around. Sirius, Shakil, all three Archers, the Hunters, even the Paladins . . . everyone had been thrown off.

“What did you do that for?” he said furiously to Shakil, who was struggling to his feet a short distance away. “None of the teams won now!"

“You think so?” Shakil said, grinning. “Look again.” He pointed, and everyone glanced up. At first Milius saw nothing — then he raised his eyes higher and saw, to his astonishment, a red-haired figure drifting serenely to the ground. Ariana landed softly, beaming around.

“And it's the Halgarian Dragonknights for the win!” the guard shouted. A torrent of applause shook the very stadium. Milius and Sirius got to their feet along with everyone else; Shakil was beaming, but several faces from the other groups were looking sour.

The next few minutes passed in a haze. All Milius remembered was being swarmed by the oncoming tide of friends, family, and fans, and then, at last, being released, so that he could trail back to the castle and clean up. As he was making his way back to his room, shortly afterwards, he came across the same Sandstone Archer who he had saved from the last Void Hunter seconds before he had fallen.

They stared at each other for a moment, the Archer’s face quite blank. Then he smiled, the first time Milius had seen him do so. “You fight well . . . for a child," he said.

Milius did not feel remotely abashed; on the contrary, he grinned. “You're not too bad yourself, old man.”

The Archer continued to smile pleasantly, but then, quite abruptly, he frowned. “You seem troubled.”

“Is it that obvious?” Milius said wearily.

“Actually, it isn't. You see, I have much practice hiding my anguish as well. I know the look. What ails you?”

“Thanks for the sympathy,” Milius said, smiling slightly, “but you can't help me.”

“All the same,” the Archer said. “You may be surprised.”

Milius looked up at him. He was wearing a rather sly smile. Milius surveyed him for a moment with appraisal, then said, “Why not?” And he explained all about the elusive underground chamber, and the blank mirror they had obtained within it. As he had expected, the Archer frowned.

“That,” he said slowly, “is a rather remarkable tale. But I'm afraid I can't help you with what you seek.”

It's fine, Milius made to say, but before he could get the words out, another voice sounded from behind him: “Are you, perhaps, referring to the legend of the Catacombs?”

Milius turned, bewildered. One of the Temporal Paladins was standing behind him, his eyebrows raised.

“The legend of what?”

“I couldn't help overhearing,” the Paladin said. “But from what I heard, it sounds as though you're referring to an old legend that has been passed down throughout the generations of my people. Of chambers like the one you spoke of, places of immense magical energy. The quantity of which is unknown, as are the locations, but one, if I'm remembering correctly, was rumoured to be near the Thalassan Region.”

“The Thalass — ?”

“You mean near Lake Tiberion?” interrupted the Archer, frowning again.

“Yes.”

"I've heard of that place. It is rumoured to have a powerful magical presence."

“Lake Tiberion. . . ?” Milius repeated. The name had stirred something in his memory; he gasped. “That's what Pan said!” he shouted gleefully.

“Pan?” the Archer and Paladin said together. “What do you —”

“Never mind, never mind!” Milius said impatiently. “Listen, can you two come with me? I need you to tell me everything you know about these ‘Catacombs’!”