Chapter 39: Records of a Thousand Duels Are Opened in the Guild Archives, the Imperial Arena Reveals Its Rules, and the Heavenly Exchange Opens a Pool on a Scholar’s Life

The Guild’s archives lay four floors beneath the Nine-Cauldron Hall, in a vault of cold stone lit by lamps that burned without smoke.

Su Lian had a pot of tea waiting on a reading table, a lamp, and a stack of jade slips as tall as a child. She had not slept in two days, and she looked better for it. Something fierce and bright had come back into her face since the cells.

"Ye Xuan," she said, tapping the first slip. "Fourteen recorded duels in the Imperial Arena. Fourteen wins. The longest lasted eleven breaths."

"Eleven."

"The shortest, two." She slid a slip across the table. "He fights with a bloodline flame. The Ye clan calls it Crow-Sun Fire. Gold at the edge, white at the core. It burns through shields, and it burns through blades. He rarely uses a weapon."

Adam read the slip. It was a crisp, clinical account in the Arena’s own hand, and it said everything about how the Ye clan’s heir fought and nothing about how he thought.

Opening: Feather Rain. Mid-range: Sun Spiral. Finisher: Dawn Pillar. Does not retreat. Does not feint. Has never needed to.

"He has never lost," Adam murmured.

"He’s never been made to."

Adam looked up.

"Fourteen duels, Mistress Su. He’s never fought anyone who knew the whole routine in advance." He set the slip down. "I’ve studied it for an hour. It’s an excellent routine."

"And?"

"And he’ll keep to it, because it’s never failed."

Su Lian said nothing for a moment. Then she laughed softly, a small, startled sound, and poured him tea.

The next morning, the Steward of the Imperial Arena received him in a chamber of white marble.

He was a heavyset man with a shaved head and a sash of nine colors, and he looked as if he had been sitting in that chair since the Dynasty’s founding. He read Adam’s challenge scroll carefully, twice, and then laid out the Arena’s rules on the desk.

"A Guild duel," he said, "follows the Arena’s standard conditions. One ring, sixty paces across. One hour. First yield, or incapacity, or a fall from the platform ends it." He tapped the page. "A domain-limiting array covers the ring. No domain may exceed thirty feet."

Adam’s eyes did not move. ’Thirty feet,’ he thought. ’The size my Dominion costs almost nothing.’

"The array was built to protect the stands," the Steward added. "Most Golden Core duelists find it inconvenient. Fire and sword domains alike."

"And equipment?"

"Each duelist may bring nine pills, nine talismans, and any number of formation plates he can carry in a single storage pouch. No artifacts above Heaven Grade. No soul weapons."

Adam nodded slowly. He was an alchemist, and nine pills was a very large number.

"Does the Arena permit a second?"

"A second may stand at the platform’s edge. He may not enter the ring."

"Excellent." Adam inclined his head. "One more question. May a Guild member place a wager on the duel?"

The Steward looked up, for the first time with something like interest.

"The Heavenly Exchange opens a pool for every Autumn Duel. Wagers are cleared in Guild paper or in stone."

"What are the odds on Ye Xuan?"

"They opened this morning at one to eight," the Steward said. "On the scholar, eight to one." He glanced at Adam, and the corner of his mouth twitched. "The pool is deep. Most of the Ye clan’s retainers put their savings on him. Many of the Guild’s own apprentices put theirs on you." His eyes were mild. "Out of loyalty, I imagine."

"Eight to one," Adam said thoughtfully. "How much is the Exchange prepared to take?"

"Per wager?"

"In total."

"Four million, I should think. After that, the odds will shorten."

"Thank you, Steward."

The Heavenly Exchange was a different place by day when it wasn’t holding a meeting. The great glass dome was loud with runners, clerks, and men shouting prices in the quick code of people who made their living on small shifts of belief. On the east wall, a great silver board listed the pool in glowing characters.

AUTUMN DUEL. Ye Xuan: 1 to 8. Han Wen: 8 to 1.

Adam walked up to a window and slid a jade slip under the grille.

The clerk read it. He read it again. He looked up, then down, then pushed his spectacles back on his nose.

"On Han Wen?"

"On Han Wen."

"The full sum?"

"The full sum."

"Sir." The clerk’s voice dropped. "Are you certain? It is a very large amount of money to place on a scholar."

"I am the scholar," Adam said.

The clerk’s mouth opened. Then he bent his head and, with a hand that shook very slightly, stamped the slip.

Wager: Three hundred and fifty thousand spirit stones. On Han Wen. Odds: 8 to 1. Payout on victory: 2,800,000.

The news traveled faster than the clerk’s runner. By the time Adam reached the Exchange’s door, a murmur had begun on the floor behind him. Men were turning to look. A trader in a purple robe put down his abacus. A woman holding a handful of silver tokens stared at the board, and then at the gray-cloaked figure at the door, and then back at the board.

Then, slowly, with the air of a person trying a new thing, she walked to the window and placed her own.

The odds began to move.

By noon, it was six to one. By evening, five. By midnight, a column of runners in the Ye clan’s black and gold were crowding the clerk’s window to place their own heavy wagers on Ye Xuan, and the odds on the scholar had tightened to a shade over four.

Adam read the board from the roof of a teahouse across the square, with a cup of tea in his hand and a quiet smile on his lips.

"You have placed your life, your reserve, and a third of your savings on a first-layer Golden Core," said Su Lian, appearing at his shoulder, "in front of the entire city."

"I have placed three hundred and fifty thousand stones on a man I know well."

"It’s madness."

"It’s the cheapest advertisement I’ve ever bought." Adam turned his cup. "The Ye clan will pour a fortune into the pool, believing it safe. Every stone they put on Ye Xuan is a stone they cannot spend sabotaging me. And if I lose..." He shrugged. "I’ll have bigger troubles than a bet."

"And if you win?"

"If I win," Adam said, "the Ye clan will have paid for the privilege."

Su Lian stared at him for a long time. Then she took the flask from her sleeve, pulled the stopper, and drank deeply.

"God help us," she said, "I think you mean it."