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raised his bugle to signal the start of the second round, Caellus came running up, his bow jangling on his back. “Sorry,” he said, quickly stringing it and nocking an arrow.
    “Archers ready,” called the official.
    Nalica raised her bow, drew it with an upward motion of her arm, and aimed.
    “Loose.”
    The arrow sang as she let it fly. She loved the music of this sport: the twang of the string, the whine of the arrow. She tracked her arrow visually, raising a hand to her forehead to block the sun. It landed on the butt, and she smiled. It hadn’t split the wand, but no one was likely to do that at this distance.
    She scanned her competitors’ targets. Everyone was shooting well today. Caellus, Justien, and two others had also scored hits. The audience cheered—they were impressed simply by the distance.
    Caellus drew a second arrow from the stand. He turned to Justien, who was shooting beside him. “You hear about Honeycatcher?”
    “Hear what?” asked Justien.
    “He’s been pulled from tonight’s race,” said Caellus.
    “Whatever for?” Justien tested the string of his bow and nocked a second arrow.
    “Not fit to run.”
    Nalica turned toward them. “But he was fine when we saw him this morning.”
    “You saw him?” Caellus looked skeptical.
    “In the stable,” said Justien.
    “Archers ready,” called the official. “Loose.”
    Nalica’s second arrow went wild and didn’t hit the butt at all. She cursed under her breath. Caellus’s didn’t land either, but Justien’s did. Pox it all, that put him in the lead.
    What had happened to Honeycatcher? It seemed quite a coincidence that he should become ill right before his big race. The illness must have come on quickly, because the horse had looked fine when she and Justien had seen him. Could someone have poisoned or otherwise sickened the horse? She and Justien had gotten past the guard; surely other people could have done the same if they’d tried.
    Captain Felix of the city guard had been inside the stable. She glanced up at the platform, where he sat watching the competition as one of its three judges. What had he been doing in the tack room just hours before Honeycatcher, a rival to his own horse, fell ill? Might he be under suspicion for his presence there? Come to think of it, she and Justien might be under suspicion themselves.
    “Loose.”
    She readied herself and loosed her third arrow. Right onto the butt, as was Justien’s. Caellus had scored a hit, too. It rankled to be tied with Caellus; she knew she was better.
    She caught Justien’s eye with a worried look, wondering what he thought about the horse. He simply smiled at her. She managed to smile back. It appeared he wasn’t thinking about the horse at all. Well, fair enough; it wasn’t his business, nor was it hers. She’d follow his example and forget about it, at least for now.
    She landed her last two arrows on the butts, but the damage was done. She had five hits and one sin. Justien had six hits, no sins. Caellus had four hits, two sins, which meant that Justien had won this round, and she’d come in second.
    How did she sit in the overall standings? She’d won yesterday and Justien had won today. But she’d won yesterday by a greater margin because, in most tournaments, splitting the wand was worth a lot more than scoring a hit. She might still be in first place. Regardless, it all came down to her performance tomorrow.
    She’d made a deal with Justien that she would congratulate him if he won, so she walked up to him and held out her hand. “Nice shooting. Congratulations.”
    He clasped her wrist and smiled warmly. “Nice shooting yourself.”
    Well, that hadn’t been too excruciating. She turned to go.
    “Wait,” called Justien. “You want to watch the Imperial Plate with me?”
    “The horse race?” She’d forgotten that he’d invited her earlier.
    “I know Honeycatcher isn’t running anymore, but I’m sure it will be exciting. And you could see the