Page 77 of Song of the Shadow Prince
“Oh.” Then her eyes widened. “Hey… what if the victor wins the artwork? In my world, some of our most famous paintings can go for millions of dollars. Duplicate or not, they could be fooling some pretty dangerous people.”
I shook my head. “Do you see the spectators wearing the crow masks?”
She looked around and nodded. “Yeah, I see them. So what?”
“What do you see?”
She shook her head and I saw her furrowed brows above the ridge of her wolf mask. “I’m not following. What are you getting at?”
“What kind of people do you see? They’re certainly not noblemen and women from the Northern District, I can tell you that much,” I confidently asserted. “They’re average folk, or those from the lower class. I would wager none of them are from the North, nor from Dragon Valley, nor from the royal family, yet, rumor has it that people from all walks of life come to the Underclaw. How come we don’t see them?”
Her mouth fell open then shut again. “You’re right. I don’t see them.” Her gaze flitted around the arena and she analyzedour surroundings with a finer eye. She didn’t know much about this world, but she might be able to see something I couldn’t.
I followed her shrewd gaze as it bounced around every corner of the room, following every person. Her gaze returned to the painting mounted at the top of the arena and she stared at it for several minutes. Her eyes narrowed to slits and she turned to me.
“They’re here,” she said knowingly.
“Who’s here?” I questioned, slightly confused.
“The rich people.” When she saw I didn’t understand, she clarified. “The noblemen and women, those from Dragon Valley, and royalty. All of them, they’re here.”
My brows shot up and I whirled around to see what she saw, but it was the same crowd as before. I tightened my grip on her hand. “Where?”
She nodded toward the painting. “Right there.”
I looked at the painting again and frowned. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
“The painting is a looking glass,” she said. “From this side, all we see is the painting, but I bet there’s another location where the rich folks are watching in comfort, placing bets with much higher stakes.” She lowered her voice to keep those jostling beside us from overhearing. “No wonder Mirabel is a part of it. I’m sure they need a witch to do it.”
Her theory was far-fetched, and I wasn’t convinced. “How did you reach that conclusion?”
She shrugged. “I read the bookThe Picture of Dorian Grayin high school,” she offered casually. Cat noticed my bewildered expression, clearly ignorant about the book. She waved away my confusion. “While the plot has nothing to do with what’s going on here, it gave me the idea that artwork could bealive. That painting is too out of place here for it not to be otherwise.”
Magic could certainly play a part in this, but I didn’t know how. While her idea had merit, we didn’t have any proof. And without proof, her idea was just that – an idea.
“Do you know when Arya is scheduled to turn in her artwork each month?”
She nodded. “The third Sunday of each month.”
I tensed. It was too tidy to be a coincidence that it happened to be the same day I was allowed to come onto the mainland. Something didn’t sit right with me. I needed to talk to my brother, Thorne. Whoever was orchestrating this was close to the royal family, if notinthe royal family. Which meant it did not bode well for Thorne.
19
CAT
We left the Underclaw Market and wandered the streets of the Southern District, pondering a dozen different theories. Damien still hadn’t released my hand. I wasn’t sure what he was nervous about, but he had a death grip on it. And for some odd reason, I didn’t mind. That thought worried me, but that was a problem for another day.
Personally, I thought my idea was pretty awesome, but Damien said there was no evidence to back it up. Which was true and all, but damn, he didn’t have to completely dismiss me. I felt like it was a solid theory. All my years of acting and watching television had finally paid off! Or so I thought.
Damien came to a sudden stop without warning. I looked up at the building we stopped in front of and realized we were standing in front of the infamous brothel, The Gilded Serpent.
My eyes widened with excitement. I’d been dying to go inside and check it out! I wasn’t one to go to strip clubs very often, but I could honestly say they had the best chicken wings. Chicken wingsanda lap dance? I mean, you just couldn’t go wrong. I started dragging Damien up the stairs when he stopped me.
“No!” he barked, his eyes wide and scandalized. “You wait out here.”
I pouted and crossed my arms with a huff. “What? Why?”
“I shouldn’t have even brought you here,” he muttered, annoyed. “Give me my cloak.”
