Chapter Three
The beast pens are one of the most spectacular parts of the fortress. Located beneath Ironhold, they contain cages and holding pens for all kinds of beasts. Some are simple livestock, kept there as food.
Most, however, are dangerous creatures bred or captured for use in the arena. There are giant snakes, armored ironhides with magnificent horns infused with metal, chimeras consisting of parts of multiple beasts, and of course the shadow cats.
I walk over to the pen where one of them is kept. The others are all within cages that are designed to constrain their abilities to walk from one shadow to the next. This particular shadow cat is more docile, however, particularly around me. I go to it and it rubs against me, purring like a kitten.
“I'll never get used to that thing being so friendly,” Stefano, the master of beasts says. His talent is not for controlling beasts, because such a thing would put him in danger in a city that does not value such abilities. Instead, he has the talent for healing, able to undo damage with a touch.
Stefano is a man of middling years, dark haired and with a drooping moustache. He seems to like the way the beasts react to me, taking it as a sign that I belong here. I think he secretly hopes that when I complete my five seasons, I will agree to help him in the pits. I suspect that won't be an option.
“I heard about the Champions Trial,” Stefano says. “I heard you were selected.”
I nod. “I'm not sure what that means.”
“It means you're one of the most popular gladiators in the games,” he replies. “It means people want to see you.”
“Or it means the emperor has decided this is a good way to get me killed,” I point out.
Stefano shrugs. “Or that. But if he really just wanted you killed, he would put you in alone against a half dozen gladiators. No beasts, no tricks, just too many people for you to fight.”
“But that, my dear Stefano, would look too much like an execution.” Alaric says it lightly as he approaches. “And the emperor wants to be seen to be fair.”
“Maybe,” Stefano says. “But you're telling me that if he really wanted her dead, he wouldn’t find a match that she couldn’t win?”
Alaric shrugs. “I have every faith in Lyra’s abilities.”
That's more than I have right now. Around me I can feel the creatures, but it's as if I'm underwater, the pressure of the dampening cuff around my powers preventing me from just reaching out to take control of all of them. With an effort, I might be able to touch one, but no more than that.
“I’ll give the two of you some space,” Stefano says. We often come down here to get away from everyone else. Alaric seems to prefer Stefano’s healing to that of the actual healers within Ironhold, and it’s one place where no one looks for us.
“I saw what happened with Ravenna,” Alaric says, as Stefano leaves. “She was trying to push you?”
I nod. “She just seems to do it naturally. Tries to manipulate everyone she meets.”
“It can make her a good ally,” Alaric points out. “And a dangerous enemy.”
“Are you telling me not to be angry with her? If she hadn't interfered in the last set of games, Naia might still be alive.”
Alaric takes me in his arms. It still feels so strange, him holding me. I had always assumed that anything that happened between us would be brief, fleeting, purely physical. Instead, we still seem to be together in spite of the danger of this place.
“She might,” he admits. “But that doesn't mean that you pick a fight with Ravenna. She's dangerous.”
“So, you want me to pretend to be her friend?” I ask.
Alaric smiles. “As if you would be any good at pretending anything, Lyra. Your face seems to show everything you feel. Which is normally a beautiful trait. For one thing, it means I know when I've done something right around you.”
“Were you planning to do many things wrong?” I counter. “Have you been out seducing noble women when I haven't been watching?”
“The rumors say that you're the one to watch in that regard,” Alaric says, with a hint of jealousy that darkens his expression.
The truth though in his case, the mysterious patron who calls him from Ironhold is his mother, while mine is Lady Elara, who seeks to teach me more about being a beast whisperer. Not that I've told Alaric that part, but he trusts me when I say that Lady Elara merely seems to have decided that I’m someone to be seen near. Perhaps he believes that I'm going to be a rising star as well.
“I can't be Ravenna’s friend,” I say.
“Well, we're making some progress, then,” Alaric says. “Soon, I will make you every bit as cold and ruthless as I am.”
I put my hand on his chest. “Do you know you’re neither of those things, right? I've seen the other side of you. You don't need to pretend with me.”
Alaric’s smile widens. “Or maybe pretense is all I have. Maybe I pretend to you that I'm sweet and light, when everybody else sees the real me.”
I shake my head. “You're not going to convince me that easily.”
“No? You know that I kill in the arena more easily than you do. Killing people just for the glory seems pretty cruel to me.”
He raises an eyebrow in challenge. It's as if he's trying to drive me away, to poke and prod at the edges of what I feel, as if he's still trying to find the limits with me. Maybe he is. Alaric is not someone who can leave things alone.
“Are you trying to drive me away?” I ask.
I hear him sigh. “Maybe I just know you need that much distance.”
“Why?”
“In case you need to fight me, Lyra.”
Those words are like ice in my veins. I know what he’s talking about.
“The third challenge,” I say.
Alaric nods. “Exactly. What will you do if you are drawn against me for it?”
“What will you do?” I counter.
“I… don’t know,” he admits. “I can't stand the idea of ever hurting you, but if we do nothing in that challenge, I'm pretty sure we both end up dead. Could I stand there? Could I let you just kill me?”
He says it as if he's actually considering it. I put my hand on his face and kiss him. "Don't think like that. We probably won't be drawn against one another anyway, and if we are, we will find another way. I won't kill you."
“And I'm pretty sure that I can't kill you,” Alaric says.
“Only ‘pretty sure’?” I say.
Alaric shrugs. “I like to be honest about these things. I care about you, obviously, but could either of us really deprive the world of… well, me ?”
I laugh. It's probably what he wants. Somehow, Alaric has the knack of taking all the death in this place and turning into something to make fun of. His deliberately extravagant arrogance is a part of that.
“We’ll get through this,” I tell him.
“I hope so,” he says. “I want us to get to a point where I can actually dare to dream about the future.”
“You don't dare already?” I ask. “Aren’t you certain that you’ll make your five seasons?”
“Well yes obviously,” Alaric says, but then he lets the mask of his arrogance fall. “But we both know anything could happen. One sword thrust in the wrong place, that's all it takes. You know you've ruined me for the arena, Lyra?”
That catches me by surprise. I can’t imagine how anything I’ve done could possibly make it harder for Alaric to succeed in the colosseum.
“I've ruined you? How?”
His smile turns wan and wistful. “Because you've given me something to care about. A reason why it matters whether I live or die.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” I say. The fact that he cares about me like that makes warmth spread through me. I’ve been worried that anything between us can only be physical, but now, it seems clear that I mean so much more to him than that. My heart sings with that.
“Caring about that kind of thing can be dangerous. And you… I care what happens to you too. Especially when they won't have let you have your full powers. I could… I could cut away that cuff if you wanted. Either now or… maybe in the middle of a bout, if you really needed it? I could make it look like an accident.”
I know what he's offering, and a part of me wants to snatch at that offer. I’m grateful for it. I don’t think that anyone other than Alaric would make it to me. He must know it’s a risk to himself, but he doesn’t care. Or rather, he cares about me more.
I also know that I can't accept.
“There's no way anyone will believe it's an accident after last time,” I say. “I only salvaged that situation because I was the one to put the cuff back on. If it were to happen again, it would be obvious it was preplanned, and then… then we would both be punished for it.”
My survival relies on my powers staying bound, after my powers accidentally set a wraith loose among the crowd in the previous season. Aetheria already sees beast whisperers as something too dangerous to be allowed to live. If I start taking the dampener off whenever it is to my benefit, I will give people all the evidence they need to condemn me.
It's also too close to what Naia did. Alaric is asking for permission, but it would feel like the same kind of betrayal. I can't allow it.
“If you won't let me do that, then maybe we need to find other ways of gaining an advantage,” Alaric says.
“What did you have in mind?” I ask.
“Lord Darius has given us some basic details about the challenges, but I'm sure that there will be more out there, if only so people can place their bets accurately,” Alaric says. “We should both seek audiences with our patrons, and ask them if they've heard anything.”
"With your mother, you mean?" I say. "You can say it with me."
“It's hard to be open here, even with you,” Alaric says. “If only because I never know who else might be listening. Who might use it against me.”
The worst part is that he's right. Ironhold has its politics and its petty rivalries. There are plenty who would hurt each of us if they had the chance. It is better not to risk it by saying the wrong thing.
“You’re right, though,” I say. “I will seek an audience with Lady Elara. Maybe she will have heard more.”
And maybe she can teach me more, too. I need her to. With my powers restricted, I need her to teach me something that might help me survive.