With the beat of a steady drum, Sebastian pounded his feet on the tiles of the temple, one hand clenched around his ceremonial sword to stop it from bouncing against his knee, the other around that irritating mask. The first opportunity he would drop the false face and leave it for servants or Aunt Crystal to pick up.

He held his breath to quench the threat of his bladder bursting and soiling his pants, but that wasn't his worst problem. Behind him, the thumping of a second pair of boots announced that the race had really begun.

Taking a sharp turn, Sebastian slipped into the underground tunnel that ran from the temple back to the castle. He quickened his pace to assure that he would reach the door at the end of the tunnel before Uncle Tom could. If he didn't, the narrow passage was an obstacle that would make the difference between winning and losing.

And there was no way he was going to lose from this old man who spent most of his days sitting on his rusty bottom, taking care of whichever insignificant problem the Greenlanders wanted to bore him with.

If only there was a way to tie a knot into his bladder.

He darted up the stairs, a hot breath already breathing down his neck. As he stretched out his hand, the door handle within reach, Uncle Tom bumped into him and slid his foot along the floor, blocking him.

Single-handedly, he shoved Sebastian aside. "Seems like you're the one in need of vegetables."

"It's not a punishment for me, you know." Sebastian pounced, then slithered under his arm, to the freedom of the main hall.

But Uncle Tom grabbed him into a lock, a playfully mocking smile on his face. "Such a terrible mistake you made, Sebby. Your offer has made me even more determined to show you how it's done."

He pushed Sebastian aside and dashed off.

"Show off." Dropping the mask on the table that carried the bust of General Andrew, Sebastian blew his fringe from his eyes. "I thought you said it was important to keep the God of Pride at bay."

"I'm help-" As Uncle Tom turned around, his sword swung out of its holster and dropped to the ground.

"See! The Gods are punishing you already." Sebastian embraced the vital time that he was losing picking up his sword and bolted past him. "Can you hear that sound, Uncle Tom? It's the sound of the spinach leaves calling for you. Eat us, Tommy! We're yummy!"

"That's never gonna happen. Not in a million years."

"Oh yes, it is." Sebastian chuckled and sprinted the last couple of yards to the main entrance of the throne room.

He practically glided to victory until he slammed, feet first then the rest of his body, into the deep green gate; the shock so strong that he flew backwards, into broad arms.

"Small detail." Uncle Tom grinned. "I requested to lock this entry for the day. The keys are somewhere in George's office."

"George's office? But that's so far away!" Halfway a pout, Sebastian gasped. There was another way in that wouldn't require him to run to the other side of the castle and back. He, Uncle Tom, and Nick had taken the route all those weeks ago when that Scorian magician had been executed. "Nevermind. You fetch those. I have an alternative."

As he barrelled up the stairs, the urge to pee nearly reached his lips. If there was ever a man foolish enough to challenge him to a duel, he would not stall the inevitable and pee on his opponent's shoes. His first order after the fight would be asking Nick to turn it into a story.

Tomorrow he would tell Master Paul all about this plan. It was the perfect strategy: distract, then attack.

He raced past the dining hall where servants were bustling around, hanging up decorations and setting up the tables with the fanciest of the porcelain plates, then past the privy. His mind forced him to go in, his feet, however, thundered down the steps next to the painting of some happy old cook holding a giant spoon.

Then as he finally barged through the door and into the throne room came the one voice he did not want to hear. "Finally. You made it."

"No!" Sebastian jerked his head back. How could he have lost?

Uncle Tom sat cross-legged on the throne, his hand resting against his bad ear. "You didn't think you were going to beat me in my own castle, did you now, dear Sebby?"

"You cheated! The main entry wasn't really locked, was it?"

"It was and remains very locked. However..." He rose, unsheathing his sword, and walked down the fourteen steps. "I've been living here for almost thirty-five years. Sunstone Castle holds very few secrets for me anymore."

Sebastian folded his arms, his breath still rapid from running and holding his piss. "That's cheating too. Which route did you take?"

Uncle Tom tapped his sword against the floor. "You went up. I went down."

"Ugh... stop being so cryptic!" Sebastian stomped his feet, his body jiggling as a final resort. "I really need to go, like badly! I have been since the start of the ceremony."

"Then go!" Uncle Tom urged him to move. "What are you even waiting for?"

"I couldn't go before!"

Sebastian leapt up the same stairs he had just sprinted down. At the top, he dove left into one of the smallest rooms of the castle. At last a victory came when he shoved down his trousers and aimed a giant stream of yellow liquid down into the moat. "Sweet Gods in the Heavenly Halls!"

While he waited an awfully long time to finish, he stared out of the small opening in the wall that was just below eye level. Two men with a mask in grey and green trotted alongside the castle. One of them removed the hood of his cloak, revealing fiery red hair.

Oh, Fox. There was a hollow spot in his heart that none of Master Paul's training sessions or races against Uncle Tom could fill. It ached, sometimes harder than the pain of missing his family, and he couldn't explain why that was.

Maybe it was because Fox was so easy to beat.

As the last drop fell dozens of feet below, he grabbed a cloth to clean himself and pulled his trousers back up, readjusting his belt. Yeah, that was it. He didn't really miss Fox, just the pleasure of winning.

He grabbed his sword and headed back to the throne room. Uncle Tom may have won the first round, but he was going to win the next. For Fox's sake!

With full confidence, he walked in, but the place was completely deserted: an empty throne, empty high-stone chairs, and not a single sound but the padding of his own feet.

"Very funny, Uncle Tom. I know you're..." He stood on his tiptoes to peek into the chair aisle. "Huh... not here?"

An eerie sensation crept over him, sending both his heart and breathing into immediate overdrive. He looked around, up, down, sideways.

There weren't that many spots to hide. The throne room was designed to stand; only the most wealthy sat down on the chairs while the King talked from his throne to culprits, envoys, Lords, or-occasionally-other royals.

Sebastian staggered up the steps to the throne to get an overview, his legs trembling with every step he took. "Uncle Tom?"

"... om-om," the echo of his cracked voice replied.

He grew light in the head as he stood on top of the platform, his gut squeezing as though he still had to piss. There were hardly any guards present in the castle. If there was one day opportune for King Ariel to send more assassins, it was today.

"Uncle Tom!" His fist clenched the sword tighter. Ceremonial or not, if he had to fight to defend the kingdom, he would. He was the son of Lord Brandon; a real warrior.

While black dots appeared before his eyes, the dark marble floor transformed into the ashes that had covered the grounds of Laneby. His heart thumped against his chest, knocking to get out and flee to a safer place.

His heart was not alone. As if chased by an all-consuming wave of green fire, he stumbled down the stairs. "Uncle Tom! Where are you?"

By the time he reached the step of the Goddess of Temperance, the entire throne room was spinning; sweat pouring down every single pore. Each time he blinked, he received another flash of Uncle Tom laying motionlessly on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

Something prodded him in the back. The body disappeared, consumed by the fire that was boiling him from the inside. He panted heavily but found no air.

"Didn't Paul teach you to always be prepared?"

Slowly he turned around, his nails still dug into his flesh from holding onto the sword too tightly. It was Uncle Tom. It was really him!

From sheer relief, Sebastian dropped the sword and wrapped his arms around him, though he deserved a kick for scaring him like that. "You're not funny. That was really mean."

"Woah, Sebby." Uncle Tom crouched low, cupping his face. "I didn't mean to frighten you. It was a silly prank to show you the location of the secret entrance. See, there it is." He gestured at the side of the platform where a wall was sliding shut. "Nothing bad can happen here. It's the best-guarded place in the entire country-in the entire world even."

"But how can it be when everybody's at the fair?"

"They may not all be present in the castle, but that doesn't mean it's unsafe here." He pulled him closer in a quick hug that ended with a pat on the back. "Hey, come on. Chin up. Soldier on. Show me that Paul deserves the massive amounts of gold I pay him to train you."

"You didn't make a very good deal with him because I'm doing all the hard work when we train. I'd say you should start paying me too." Sebastian sniffed back a tear that barely escaped. Real men didn't cry.

Uncle Tom raised an eyebrow, unsheathing his sword. "Alright then. How about a gold coin for each time you hurt or disarm me?"

"Sounds fair." Sebastian picked up his own weapon. "But technically you already owe me one coin because I cut into your finger at the ceremony."

Uncle Tom looked at his finger, which was covered in dried-up blood and pushed it. "This? It doesn't hurt. Don't push your luck."

"I'm not. Enough talking. Let's fight."

Sebastian remained as still as his body allowed him to, but his muscles kept on trembling, his breath as unsteady as his wildly beating heart. He put one foot in front of the other, going in the same circle as Uncle Tom.

Striking first had no use. If he couldn't immediately immobilise his opponent, he had to use the first hit to discover their weak spots.

'Attack quickly, die quickly,' was Master Paul's mantra.

A split second after Uncle Tom lunged out, he drove his sword forwards so the metals clashed. He swiftly turned around to use his uncle's strength against him, but Uncle Tom thrust sideways and Sebastian had to duck down to dodge the attack.

He grabbed his sword with both hands and swung it towards his legs. With a real blade, his opponent's legs would be cut off, leaving them unable to escape. The ceremonial sword would leave a black spot at the worst.

Uncle Tom jumped up and pushed Sebastian away with his elbow. Bottom first, he landed on the marble tiles, his sword flying out of his hands.

"Ouch!" Sebastian stood up and rubbed his behind. "Why do you always make me fall on my butt?"

"Because it's nature's cushion. I don't want you to break anything."

"I'm not gonna. It's just play-fighting."

Sebastian fetched his sword, which had flown as far as the chair aisle, then braced himself for the second attack.

Their eyes met. Uncle Tom winked, then charged at him with such force that Sebastian had to use two hands again to counter the attack. Trembling metal against trembling metal, the echo of their ring bounced against the walls.

He wouldn't give in; if needed, he would stay all day in this position. It was better than attending a stupid ball anyway.

Something rumbled at the back of the platform. He didn't move, so when Uncle Tom turned his head, he slashed with all his strength and knocked the sword out of his hand.

He smiled smugly as it clattered to the floor. "Nah! Payback."

"Yeah... you won this one, Sebby. I shouldn't have been distracted, but a beautiful woman can do that to a man."

From behind the sliding wall appeared Aunt Crystal. "Is that your way of telling me that I'm not wanted here, darling?"

"Me not wanting you around?" Never!" He pulled Aunt Crystal closer to him and pressed his lips to hers.

"Ugh." Sebastian poked his sword in between them. "We're here to fight, not to play games with the Goddess of Lust. Kiss when you're all alone in your chamber tonight. I don't need to see it."

"It's not a jest of Lust when you're married, Seb. I just happen to love your aunt a lot, and I wanna show her." Uncle Tom gave her another smack on the lips.

Aunt Crystal placed her hands around his neck, her fingers curled around a strand of his hair. She whispered, "And how's my darling husband?"

"Fine." Uncle Tom glanced at him, briefly, his lips pressed together but no new kiss in sight for Aunt Crystal. Sebastian's mouth opened as he touched the black stone on his ear and removed it. "Keep this for me."

"I will. Be careful." She grabbed the jewel and kept in her hand.

"Completely blunt swords, Crys." He manoeuvred the pointy end into her arms. "Feel that? Seb and I can't hurt each other."

Taking a deep breath, she smacked the blade aside. "You know that's not why I worry."

He shrugged. "Then I don't see there's anything to worry about."

When he turned back around, his scar was so prominent that Sebastian couldn't look away. It ran across his entire ear, swollen and much redder than he imagined it would be.

When their eyes met, the bantering comfort of earlier was gone, replaced by awkward blinking and a bashful smile. "The obsidian is pretty heavy. When I'm running, it bounces up and down, and it's... not pleasant."

Sebastian averted his gaze to his shoes. "It's fine. You don't need to explain. I'm aware you don't like talking about it."

"No, I'd rather teach my nephew how Sundalers fight."

"I already know." Sebastian leapt, then stood still in his stance, his sword ready. "They cheat!"

Uncle Tom cocked his head, his face completely unreadable. He moved around, his blade a single shot away from attack. Instead of going in circles, Sebastian's only way out was stepping backwards.

He put one foot after the other until the sole of his boot touched the step of Temperance. Uh... Oh... Uncle Tom had cornered him.

When Uncle Tom lurched out, Sebastian answered with his sword clashing against his uncle's. His feet danced naturally up on the platform as the blades collided rapidly, clang after clang until he reached the top.

In a moment of hesitation, Uncle Tom grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him onto the throne. "So how does it feel to be King, Your Majesty?" His eyes were big, his smile even bigger.

"Like I'm not ready to lose!"

Swinging his sword around, Sebastian struggled free, but it took but a few swishes before Uncle Tom had him cornered yet again.

Only this time he had to go down the stairs instead of up.

Seven or eight times their swords moved back and forth. Sebastian reached for the step of Pride, then placed his foot down. He was midway countering a stroke when he placed his other foot on Greed's step.

It slid off, causing him to lose his balance. Before he understood what had gone wrong, he was tumbling down the remaining twelve steps. He crushed his arms, banged his head, and got stabbed by his own blunt sword.

"Sebby! Are you alright?" Uncle Tom's boots clattered down the stairs as he smacked down the last step of Temperance.

He moaned. Already there was a throbbing pain at the back of his head. His body ached with a million bruises. He remained quiet. It was the ultimate way to get back at Uncle Tom for that stupid prank.

"Sebastian?" Aunt Crystal yelled too. "Thomas, you idiot. Why did you lead him to the throne? I knew this would end in one of you getting hurt. I just knew it!"

"I didn't think he would trip over his own feet, Crystal! Paul's always bragging that the kid has excellent footwork." Uncle Tom tugged at his shirt. "Hey, come on, Seb. Stand up. It wasn't so bad."

"Tom? Is he saying anything?"

"No." He felt Uncle Tom's breath on his face. "Seb, can you hear me? Sebby?"

"Why isn't he replying?" Panic rose in Aunt Crystal's voice.

He didn't want to scare her, but she was an unlucky victim of his game. Later he would have to give her another hug and apologise.

"I dunno." There was a tinge of desperation in Uncle Tom's voice as he patted him repeatedly on the cheek. "Hey, Sebby. Tell your foolish muttonhead of an uncle that you're fine."

"This isn't normal! I'll fetch Healer Mark."

"No," he said firmly. "I'll bring him. It's much faster."

As Uncle Tom scooped him up, Sebastian figured the prank had taken long enough and that there was no need to involve the old Healer in his shenanigans too.

He raised his arms. "Gotcha!"

His eyes were barely open when his hand slammed full force into Uncle Tom's right ear.

At first, Uncle Tom said nothing. He placed Seb back on the ground, his eyes squinting and he was gasping for breath. Then came a moan of pain.

"Tom, darling?"

Sebastian lowered his head. Nothing in his plan had foreseen that Uncle Tom would have his ear at that angle. "I'm sorry. It was just... I just wanted to be funny."

"You think this is funny!" Spit flew out of his mouth. He gritted his teeth, his face twisted in agony as he cupped his ear.

"Tom, calm down, darling." Aunt Crystal rushed to him and rubbed his back. "It's only going to hurt more if you get all worked up."

"I can't calm down. It's pain like you can't imagine." Uncle Tom turned white as he curled up. "Fetch... Healer... Mark. I need more of the potion."

"I'll do it," Sebastian squeaked. "I'm so sorry, Uncle Tom. I didn't want to... I never meant to.."

With an icy stare Uncle Tom looked up, his eyes big and wild with fury. He pounded his fist on the floor. "Neither did Bran when he decided to scar me for the rest of my life!"

Sebastian froze. No. Father couldn't have done that. He would never do anything like that. It didn't sound like him at all.

"What are you even waiting for?" Uncle Tom bared his teeth. "Get out of my sight!"

He scampered away. First to Healer Mark, then to his windowsill. He should have never left his chamber.

Winning games wasn't fun if it was like this.