The glasshouse doors swung open on a wave of warm, perfumed air that smelled of roses and rain. Madam Orchid Zhaan strolled in wearing a dress of living petals, twirling a closed parasol and smiling widely.
"Welcome, welcome, to the Round of Sixteen and the Garden of Last Breaths!" Herald Quillon bellowed from the glass gallery.
"Spores in every petal, pollen in every shadow, the first one to inhale takes a long nap in the infirmary!"
At the Corner rail Loccy pressed a warm pie into Hajin's hands. "In case you win, Master, it's cherry."
"Bun, that's a bribe, I owe you pies already," he said, grinning down at it.
"It's a loan."
Juna leaned over the rail and sniffed his collar, nose wrinkling. "Your blood still smells a little like that poison, idiot."
"Vella got every drop, Mutt, ask her."
"I got every drop," Vella said, folding her arms, "and I will be very annoyed if you let someone put more back."
