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Book 2: Chapter 26: Elimination

He had half-guessed it was something like this, but to have it confirmed meant that Lional had intentionally sold the second card out of a Legendary set. That was a huge advantage to give up. Were they that financially bad off?

Or were they that afraid of the king’s wrath?

Still keeping his expression politely interested, Arthur said, “Sounds impressive. What does your card do?”

Penn started to reply when a general hubbub drew their attention to the front of the room. The hive leaders — Whitaker and Valentina — strode across the raised stage. The little dark egg was nowhere in sight.

The leaders were dressed resplendently in a more formal version of the dragon rider’s uniform. The fabric was primarily gray and white with brown edging. Both also sported colorful metals across the right sides of their chest.

Whitaker looked full of energy and enthusiasm. Valentina took her time. She didn’t have the cloud under her feet and every step looked halting. Arthur suspected she might use a cane in private.

Though she walked slower, Valentina was full of her usual fire. Looking over the crowd she snapped, “What are you all standing around here for? We provided tables, didn’t we? Find a seat. Immediately!”

What followed was a low-leveled chaos as people tried to grab the best seats — especially those around the bearded prince.

Several scuffles broke out, and Arthur caught a few flashes of power let loose from someone’s temper. Nothing as spectacular as the duel during the Rare hatching, however.

Their table still had one free seat. A tiny girl with drops of pearls beaded into her dark hair sat down. She looked hardly old enough to have a card of her own, and her delicate lace dress didn’t help. She looked nervously at Marion who nodded at her but didn’t greet anyone else.

Before long, most everyone found a seat with their invitations locked in… except for an unlucky few who were either too slow or too picky for a specific location. Whitaker gestured for them to stand at the back of the room.

Valentina nodded once, sharply. “We’ve gathered you here today for what may be a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Whomever is linked to the Legendary egg will find his or herself automatically separated from their peers. Though you will be training with other new pairs, when you graduate you will be promoted to the top of the hive leadership.”

Marion snorted and Arthur glanced his way in time to see him roll his eyes.

Valentina continued, “This is not a commitment any of you should take lightly. Those who are ultimately brought before the egg do so at the risk of their lives. Make no mistake: A Legendry’s power is not to be underestimated. If your personal cards clash with the hatchlings, there will be poor consequences.”

She paused as if to take a breath. In that moment, Whitaker spoke baldly. “We cannot guarantee your safety.”

Several people shifted in their seats.

Valentina shot the other leader a look for interrupting her, but then nodded sharply before she turned back to the crowd with a withering eye. “Furthermore, I’d wager most of you aren’t worthy of the egg. It’s not good enough to hold a Legendary card in your heart. You must use those powers to add value to the hive.”

Again, Whitaker broke in. “That ultimately means protecting the world from scourge.”

“Ugh, here he goes,” Marion muttered a moment before the bearded prince’s voice drawled out.

“We are all ready and eager to prove ourselves.”

Arthur would have bet money that Valentina would take a strip out of him for interrupting. But she simply looked at him and said, “We’ll be putting that to the test. Remember you said that. Meanwhile, anyone who finds this… unpalatable should leave. By my count, we still have five people waiting for a seat at a table.”

Thick silence fell over the room.

Valentina and Whitaker simply stood there, waiting for someone to take them up on their offer.

Eventually, the silence grew awkward, and several people glanced at one another.

“No takers?” Whitaker said. “Perhaps this will change your mind?”

He gestured to the edge of the stage. From out of the shadows floated a box — no doubt summoned via his telekinesis. The box was etched with glowing runes as if they were an elaborate decoration.

Or a powerful protection.

Arthur felt his heart pick up pace. He knew what was in that box.

So did a few others, judging by the murmurs. Marion leaned forward, eyebrows raised. Then he leaned over and spoke quietly to the little girl. Arthur couldn’t tell what he said, but it sounded like reassurance.

“We will unshield the egg here and now,” Valentina said. “Anyone who reacts poorly — you’re out.”

Several people at the front table leaned back, which Arthur thought was poor showing. But no one got up to leave.

Valentina nodded to Whitaker. Both of the leaders took several steps back from the box, which spoke of the egg’s danger. Whitaker then made a twisting motion with his hands. The runes dimmed and the sides of the box fell away.

It was as if all of the energy in the room were sucked in towards the egg. Floating in air under Whitaker’s power, it seemed to glimmer darkly in the lamplight. Arthur found himself balanced at the very edge of his seat as if pulled in.

Several people let out audible gasps.

One laughed.

“That’s it? I’ve seen chicken eggs bigger—“

A blur of motion crossed the room, from one of the back tables to the stage. It resolved into a young man of about twenty who fell on his knees in front of the egg.

He’s trying to hatch it! Arthur thought, terror and rage erasing all caution.

Marion’s hand fell on his shoulder hard, shoving him back down on his chair just as he twitched to stand.

“Calm down,” the prince said, “there’s still plenty of time to make an idiot of yourself--“

“But—“

One hand outstretched to the egg, the boy started to scream. He looked like was trying to pull himself back — free hand locked around his own elbow — but the egg had a lock on him and was dragging him closer.

Whitaker grabbed the boy with his power and yanked him back. The arm bone made a loud snap like a dried twig as a bone broke followed by a wet pop as his shoulder was wrenched out of its socket… but Whitaker’s power was stronger. The boy was flung across the stage where he collapsed, arm hanging strangely, moaning.

“Get him out of here!” Valentina ordered. “Bring him at least three floors away. He’s too susceptible to the egg.”

Servants who’d hung off to the side rushed in to hustle the boy away.

Whitaker, too, turned to the crowd. “Well? What are you waiting for? Someone take his seat, immediately. Who else?”

“She’s choking!” a girl cried out, standing to hover — literally — over another girl at her table who was bent double. “Help her!”

Whitaker clicked his fingers and more servants rushed to lead her away. Arthur heard the girl take a wheezing gasp as she neared the exit.

The ones who hadn’t found a table quickly moved to take the girl’s seat… though the boy who sat looked nervous, as if it were unlucky.

Within a minute another girl broke out in hives. Whether it be from stress or another bad reaction to the egg, Arthur didn’t know. She looked relieved as she excused herself.

Valentina swept a cold gaze over them all. “That’s three. We have two more people meant to take seats.”

Silence.

“This is the easy part, kids,” Whitaker rumbled.

One boy toward the back of the room stood from his seat and walked out. Arthur did him the courtesy of not staring. His seat was taken by a determined looking man.

That left one final woman standing awkwardly at the back.

The two leaders exchanged looks.

“Well,” Valentina drawled, “There will be openings after tonight. Until then for the rest of you, the people sitting at your table your team members for tonight.”

At her command, the air suddenly became bitterly cold. The moisture crystalized into numbers that hung over everyone’s table like a decoration.

A perfectly formed 4 stood over Arthur’s table.

He glanced around with more interest. Was there to be a team elimination? If that was the case, he could do worse than a prince who could see seconds into the future and a Master of Combat.

And that meant Penn may be less inclined to kill Arthur. At least for tonight.

“You may be asking yourself why you’ve been shoved into teams,” Whitaker said, voice silencing the beginnings of murmurs through the room. “And why we know by this time tomorrow, those with useless cards and overall cowards will have packed up and gone home.”

His smile was as wolfish as the hive he served.

“Our seers have called for a scourge eruption, and by all reports it’ll be a festive one.” Pause. “We’ll need volunteers on the front line.”

The uproar was instant.