Chapter Seventeen
I find Alaric in the space within the noble section of Ironhold given over to a combination of temple and gallery space. It is a large, vaulted room, filled with statues of the gladiators who have gone before, along with semi mythical figures who represent heroes or gods connected to Aetheria’s past.
He is kneeling before a statue as if in prayer. He touches his fingers to the statue, then to his lips as he stands, turning to face me. It's obvious that he can see the pain on my face because he reacts to it instantly, moving to me and taking me in his arms.
My lips find his, seeking wordless comfort in that moment of physical connection. We melt into each other for several seconds. Is this what I want now? For him to take me back to his rooms and make me forget all about what is to come tomorrow?
“They’re making me fight Rowan,” I say, when we finally pull apart.
“I know,” Alaric replies. “I saw.”
When my voice is filled with pain, his is flat and without emotion. Or perhaps he's hiding whatever he is really feeling.
“I know you don't like Rowan,” I say.
“What I don't like is that you're feeling this much pain at the prospect of fighting him. He's just another gladiator. Isn’t he?”
There's a challenge in that question, a hint of jealousy again that seems to question any connection I have with others.
“He's my friend,” I say. “And he isn't someone I just want to kill.”
“Is he someone you're prepared to give up your life not to kill?” Alaric counters. “Because that's what it means, Lyra. You heard Darius back there. If you refuse to kill someone, you won't save them. You'll just find yourself executed alongside them. So the only real way to guarantee that you would save him would be for you to let him kill you. Does Rowan mean that much to you?”
I hesitate, and Alaric clearly doesn't like that hesitation.
“The answer is meant to be obvious, Lyra,” he says. “Rowan isn't meant to mean that much to you. Even I shouldn't mean that much to you, although this is the level of agonizing about the question that I would expect if the two of us were meant to fight.”
He holds me at arm’s length now, looking deep into my eyes.
“Do you love Rowan?”
I shake my head. The answer to the question is actually complicated, but I don't think Alaric wants complicated right now. He doesn't want to hear that feelings don't just go away. That, even though Rowan pushed me away because he couldn't handle what I was or my attitude to the games, that doesn't mean I just feel nothing now. It isn't the same as what I feel for Alaric, but it's something, and in any case, I'm not sure I like this jealous side of Alaric. There's something possessive about him, as if he's scared of the possibility that I might leave him.
“Then you need to be ready to do what’s required,” he says. He puts a finger to my lips to stop me saying the next part. “I know he's your friend, I know you care about him, but that's not a luxury we have here. We do what we must. Do you think he isn't getting ready to kill you?”
“I honestly don't know,” I say. I saw him walking away. It's obvious he doesn't want to speak to me, and is the reason for that because he knows that if he does speak to me too much he won't be able to bring himself to do what he needs? Is he staying clear of me because he knows he will kill me in the morning?
“Lyra, you must promise me you will do whatever it takes to survive tomorrow,” Alaric says. He kisses me again, then talks softly against my lips, barely above a murmur. “I risked everything to save you today, and I would do it again in a heartbeat, but tomorrow I won't have that option. You must be the one to save yourself. If you must kill him to come back to me, I want you to promise that you'll do it.”
I know he's saying it because of how much he cares about me, but I'm not sure I can promise to kill so easily.
“I… I’ll do everything I can to survive,” I say instead.
Alaric can hear my hesitation, but he seems to know he's not going to get anything more from me. Instead, he leads me from the gallery space back in the direction of his rooms.
“If there's a chance we might lose one another tomorrow, I want to make the most of this last night.”
That, at least, is an idea I can fully agree with.
***
In the morning, our procession sets off for the city. Malira is on a cart, wrapped up tightly in a cloak. She seems so injured that she will not be able to fight. I'm grateful for that, because it should mean Alaric goes through without having to take any risks.
Rowan is marching along with the rest of us, his expression set, his eyes looking straight ahead. I try to move over to him but the moment he sees me doing it he does the one thing he normally never does and engages with the crowds, talking to them as he goes. It means there is no chance of me being able to speak to him, and I'm sure that's a deliberate ploy. He barely looks my way. Is there a flicker of pain there as he glances at me? Is that the expression of someone who knows he's going to have to kill me if he's going to survive?
In moments like this I hate the colosseum. I hate Aetheria and its games. I hate that it is all founded on blood and death, on people being forced to kill one another for the entertainment of the crowd.
In moments like this, I could tear it all down.
My mood does not brighten as the Colosseum comes into view. Every step now feels like one more pace along the route to an execution. For the first time since the early days after my capture, I wonder about the possibility of escaping. But there are too many people around us. Not just the guards; the crowd would not allow me to flee. They would not allow themselves to be cheated of their entertainment.
So, I follow the rest of them, heading into the colosseum. This time I see it has been reworked with stone platforms, forming a kind of three-dimensional structure over which gladiators might climb. It is reminiscent of some ancient temple, complete with crumbling stones and several obvious dangers. A sharpened pendulum swings back and forth in one spot. Spears thrust up through the floor in another. It’s remarkable, really, that the arena could have been so completely transformed in the space of one night.
I see the nobles there in their boxes. Lady Elara is there, and I gesture to her, frantically, hoping that she will see in the moments before we're all led beneath the arena.
The minutes stretch out. We're all kept separate now to prevent any collusion or interference. Somewhere in those minutes a knock comes at the door, and Lady Elara steps inside looking worried.
"Lyra, what is it? We don't have long. Even as your patron, the guards don't like me down here before your fight."
“I think Ravenna might be influencing the selection of the bouts and the kind of contests that are taking place,” I say. “They're forcing me to fight Rowan. Can you go to the emperor and persuade him-”
“Persuade him with what?” Lady Elara asks. “Do you have proof of this?”
I shake my head.
“Then I won't be able to change his mind. It will just look as though I'm trying to get a more favorable bout for my gladiator. And… I think you might be wrong about this, anyway.”
“She all but said that she did it,” I say, wanting Lady Elara to understand.
"Well, maybe she gets some advantage from you thinking that," Lady Elara suggests. "Think about it, Lyra. To influence the selection of the bouts, she would need to use her powers on Lord Darius, probably while Selene Ravenscroft is around to watch for unauthorized magic use. Do you think the arch magistrate wouldn't spot the attempt in an instant?”
Selene Ravenscroft is the most powerful magic user I've seen, with the subtle control over her powers that marks her as someone of archon strength. Lord Darius might not have her strength, but he has his background as a gladiator to draw on, and presumably he knows how to protect himself from mental assaults.
I know all of that, but still I can't help thinking that Ravenna is involved somehow.
"Even if she could do it," Lady Elara says. "It would be a terrible risk for her. The only reason you're not on an impaling spike right now is that no one was able to prove who helped you. If anyone were to work out that she was influencing the organizers, her death would probably not be nearly as quick. This wouldn't just be interference in a bout, it would also be a magical attack on a pair of respected nobles, controlling the minds of Lord Darius and Lady Selene.”
I understand what she's saying but still, Ravenna sounded too confident about her capacity to influence things. I want to ask Lady Elara to look deeper, but in that moment the guards and the trainers come for me.
“Stop all this,” the trainer says. “The time for talking is done. You must come with us, now .”