Eye of the Labyrinth by Jennifer Fallon Page A

called stingball, because as the younger, less agile children were eliminated from the circle, the game frequently became quite savage, as the sole aim of the outer circle was to hit the remaining participants hard enough to bruise.
    When Tia and Lexie arrived, there were only seven players left in the center, among them Mellie and Eleska, who squealed with triumph every time they managed to successfully dodge the ball. Reithan and Dirk both stood in the outer ring, laughing almost as hard as the girls as they hurled the ball across the circle, trying to get the few remaining players out.
    Tia watched the game for a while, laughing as Reithan caught Eleska a stinging blow on the shins. She limped out of the circle and the game carried on, the children who had already been eliminated cheering on their faster, stronger team-mates.
    “That really hurt!” Eleska exclaimed as she hobbled over to where Lexie and Tia were standing.
    “Well, Eleska,” Lexie said with an unsympathetic smile, “if you want to play with the big boys, you have to be able to take it.”
    “Still, they shouldn’t throw so hard.”
    “It wouldn’t be any fun if they did that, Eleska,” Tia pointed out. “Mellie seems to be keeping up, though.”
    “I bet they don’t throw it so hard at her.”
    “On the contrary,” Lexie corrected. “It is the sacred duty of all brothers the world over to brand their little sisters as hard as possible when playing stingball. It’s in the rules.”
    “What rules?”
    Before Lexie could answer, Mellie let out a howl of pain and the game halted while she limped from the circle, rubbing her behind with a sour look.
    Tia smiled as Mellie approached, looking mightily put out. “Never turn your back on the ball, Mel, you should know that by now.”
    “It wasn’t fair! I wasn’t ready for it!”
    “Who got you?”
    “Dirk, the rotten bastard.”
    “Mellie!” Lexie cried, shocked by her vulgarity. “Mind your tongue!”
    “I didn’t mean
that
sort of bastard, Mama,” Mellie explained. “I mean the hits-you-on-the-bum-when-you’re-not-ready-for-it sort of bastard.”
    “Oh,” Tia said, biting back a smile, “that sort.”
    Lexie rolled her eyes. “Dear Goddess, to think that in other circumstances she’d have been raised at court!”
    “That’s right!” Eleska exclaimed. “I keep forgetting you’re a princess, Mel.”
    “So does Mellie, I fear,” Lexie muttered, smiling fondly at her daughter.
    A cheer went up from the circle as Tabor Isingrin was struck. There were only four boys left in the circle now, and the game was getting quite rough and very fast. Tia watched Dirk, Reithan and the other half dozen young men in the outer circle hurling the ball to and fro, thinking Mellie and Eleska had no idea how much they’d held back to prevent doing the girls any serious harm. There was an unwritten rule among those who were old enough to man the outer circle. You never aimed above the waist, and you always let the little kids think they were winning for a while. But once they were gone, once the only players left were the young, fit and rather cocky youths of the village, then nobody held back.
    “Holen Baker will win,” Mellie predicted as yet another player was struck down. “He always does.” She looked around, trying to find someone in the crowd. “Has anyone seen Eryk?”
    “He got hit just after the little Jarik twins,” Eleska told her. “He was a bit upset he got out so soon.”
    Mellie sighed. “I’d better go find him. I promised he could float his garland next to mine.”
    “That was very thoughtful of you, Mellie,” Lexie told her. “You go find him then and we’ll meet you down by the water.”
    “I’ll fetch the garlands,” Eleska offered, hurrying off in the opposite direction, her limp forgotten. Another cheer went up as two more boys fell victim to the ball in quick succession.
    As Mellie forecast, Holen Baker was the only one left standing and the other