CHAPTER FIVE LYRA
I’ll never forget my first sight of the city of Aetheria, so long ago. Then, I was marching in chains, part of a long line of others claimed by the city. I remember how spectacular it seemed then, larger than anywhere I could have imagined and more beautiful as well.
It’s still beautiful, constructed in white marble painted in bright colors and decorated with the most spectacular effects of magic.
Banners declare the locations of noble houses, while grand buildings stand over the city, festooned with statues and held up by elegant columns.
The former imperial palace is at one side, surrounded by extravagant gardens, while elsewhere I spot temples to the gods and public baths.
The docks are crammed with ships today, their masts standing like a forest to one side of the city.
The colosseum stands at the heart of it all, huge, round and imposing, not hung with flags anymore to declare the different factions in the games, but still adorned with statues of those who had fought within it and attained the acclaim of the crowd.
I look at the spaces outside the city walls next, the sprawling spaces filled with the poorest of Aetheria, the slums that seem as extensive as they ever have. How much has changed about them in the year I've been away? Is life any better for the people there?
Inevitably, my gaze is drawn further still, to the familiar, dark shape of Ironhold.
The fortress prison is huge, constructed from black granite when the rest of the city is mostly in shades of white.
It clings to a nearby hillside like a limpet, its walls still adorned with spikes, although I'm grateful to see that no one is impaled upon them now.
When I first came here, the spikes were adorned with the bodies of those who had broken the rules of Ironhold too severely to be forgiven.
I can see figures up on the walls, though. What are they doing there? I hope they're not gladiators, not after Rowan promised that he would get rid of the games.
As far as I know, though, he's kept his word. He's done away with some of the key institutions of the empire, freeing slaves like his sisters and stopping the brutal spectacle of the games, where so many had died for the entertainment of the crowd, and to feed the stones beneath the city.
So much is the same as it had been, but much of the city is different as well.
There have clearly been rebuilding efforts in the areas damaged by the uprising against the emperor, whole sections of buildings that I don't remember being there before.
But there are also scars of the rebellion visible in some of the burnt-out buildings that haven't been replaced at the edges.
As always it seems to be the poorest areas that are the slowest to recover.
I take a deep breath as I stand above the city. I'm alone by now. The messenger has gone on ahead, using whatever magic he possesses to outpace me as he seeks to return to the city. I guess that means that Rowan and others know I'm coming.
I could have kept up with the messenger, of course.
I could have taken speed from the animals we passed along the way, but in doing so I would have risked draining them of their strength.
And even if I didn't, there are risks to taking attributes from animals as a beast whisperer.
I've seen others of my kind twisted by doing so, given animalistic features that they can't get rid of.
As much as I want to get to Aetheria to help, it's safer not to push too hard.
I just hope I haven't left it too late to get here, that whatever crisis is besetting the city, I'm not too late to help with it. I head down towards the city gates, striding surely, moving through the slums.
There isn't quite the same sense of despair that there was just before the emperor fell.
There aren't crowds of people heading to the docks trying to find food but I can still see people looking around furtively, being careful not to be on the streets for too long.
Some of them stare at me openly, and I realize that they recognize me, even after all this time.
No one approaches, but I can see people watching me out of windows and from doorways.
There’s a line of people at the gates, and I wait my turn like the others. The guards there aren’t dressed in the old colors of the emperor, but just in simple functional armor, the old purple sections painted white, the gold left in place. It makes them shine like the stones of the city.
As I approach, the guards stare at me, then bow as if I’m some visiting dignitary.
“We were told you were coming but I didn't think I'd be on duty when you arrived,” one said. “Please, allow us to escort you to the first senator.”
“I'm not sure I need that,” I say. I don't want to pull them away from their jobs, and the truth is that I've been escorted by guards through the streets far too many times.
In the old days, it was because I was a prisoner, a slave, being brought before the emperor.
It would bring back too many unhappy memories. “Just tell me where to find him.”
“My lady,” another guard says. “If anything were to happen to you on your journey through the city-”
“Do you think anything will?” I ask.
He hesitates. “The city is not entirely safe, even now, despite the best efforts of the senate. But I wouldn't want to insult you by suggesting you couldn't handle it.”
There's a note of fear in his voice. I hate people being afraid of me, but that's the price of the reputation I built in the Colosseum. They billed me as the fearsome beast whisperer who could set creatures on her enemies. I acquired a dangerous reputation, one that wasn’t helped by being the one who killed the emperor.
“The first senator is down by the Colosseum,” the first guard says. “He left word to bring you to him there.”
“I'll find my own way,” I tell him, and the guards don't argue, just step aside to let me into the city.
I wish I were not alone as I step inside.
Alaric is still back in our home, the messenger left me to run ahead, and even my shadow cat isn’t with me.
It seemed cruel to bring it back to this place, rather than letting it run free in the wilds.
It means I must walk the streets, accompanied by nothing more than my memories.
There are plenty of those, though. My mind supplies images of all the times I marched in procession down into the city with the other gladiators, along streets thronging with people who would call out our names and throw small tokens.
Even on the occasions when I was brought into the city in chains by the emperor's guards, there were people watching, ready to curse me or call out to me.
People are watching today, but I can still walk the streets without being interrupted.
I move quickly, both because I want to get to Rowan and because it means there's less time for anyone to recognize me.
If people glance around and spot me, by the time they've worked out who I am, I'm already gone.
I hurry through the districts of the city, looking around as I go.
I can still see damage on some of the buildings from the fighting a year ago, but in most places, it's been repaired.
I see a gang of workers laboring to lift a statue into place on the front of a noble home, while another group works on the cobblestones of the street in front of it.
The air is pungent with the smell of so many people, mixed in with spices and the scent of roasting food.
Incense from the temples drifts on the wind, while the sounds of the city surround me: hawkers crying out their wares, endless conversations, animals being brought to slaughter, feet on cobbles, and chariots rumbling.
The Colosseum is just ahead. As always, its sheer size takes me by surprise.
It's a space designed to impress upon anyone who sees it that they are tiny compared to the might of Aetheria.
It's a space designed to represent both martial prowess and magical might, the so-called twin virtues of the empire.
Because of that, I'm quite surprised to see people scrambling around it on scaffolding. There are whole crews of people working, and I might have expected them to be tearing it down, but they're not. They're repairing it.
I head towards them, wanting to ask what's going on, and that's when I see Rowan.
In some ways, he looks the same as he always did, with auburn hair falling over his face to disguise the scar his former mistress inflicted on him before she sold him into the arena.
He's still broad-shouldered and muscular, still has the same square features.
And he clearly still has control over stone because he waves a hand, manipulating some of the stonework to meld it together and heal the damage in a spot where some of the laborers are struggling.
In other ways he looks completely different.
He's dressed in a white toga, rather than the rough clothes of a gladiator.
He looks thinner, too, and more careworn.
A couple of guards are near him, looking out as if they expect trouble at any moment.
They start to reach for their weapons as I approach, but then Rowan sees me and rushes forward, enfolding me in a hug that lifts me from my feet.
“Lyra! I heard you were coming, but it's still amazing to see you.”
He sets me down, looking me over and it's hard not to react to that stare, when it brings with it the memory of times we've spent together as far more than friends. I shake off the feeling, though, gesturing to the work crews.
“What's going on, Rowan?” I demand. “Why are you repairing the Colosseum rather than tearing it down?”
I hear him sigh. “That's a long story.”
“Is there anything to do with why you sent a message to me?” I ask.
He nods. “We have a lot to talk about. I'm so glad you're here, but I fear I might have brought you into the middle of a difficult situation.”
That's a little too close to what Alaric feared for comfort.
“Isn't Alaric with you?” Rowan asks.
I shake my head. “He didn't want to come back. He didn't want me to return. He says you're trying to drag me back into the middle of politics and violence.”
That got another sigh from Rowan. “I wish he were wrong. Come on, walk with me.”
His toga swishes as he turns.
“I hate this thing,” he says. “But apparently, it's what’s expected from anyone serving on the senate. And as the first senator, I can't exactly ignore it.”
He's walking quickly, so I must hurry to keep up with him. I can see immediately that we're heading back in the direction of the old palace.
“Seriously, Rowan,” I say. “What's going on? What's so important that you had to call me back? What can I possibly help with?”
“I don't know if you can help,” Rowan says. “But you were the only person I could think of who I could trust. You haven't been in the city, which means you haven't been caught up in the politics. Everything is so difficult now, Lyra. So complicated.”
“It wasn't meant to be,” I say. “We overthrew the emperor. We worked to undo the worst excesses of the empire.”
“Sadly, that's the easy part,” Rowan says. “I did some big things early on. I closed the games, I ended slave holding in the empire. I made Aetheria a republic. And we had enough momentum when the emperor was freshly dead to do all those things and more. But now everything is complicated. There are as many factions as ever, as many competing interests. The senate voted to repair the colosseum after several senators offered the funds for it. I’m just trying to make sure that people aren’t killed in the work. ”
Which explains why he’s using his magic on the stones of the place.
“So the whole city is complicated?” I say.
“Not just the city,” Rowan replies. “Aetheria might not be an empire anymore, but the city is still the heart of a vast nation, and magic still flows outwards from it. Our neighbors and the former provinces are waiting to see how we fare as a republic before deciding on their responses.”
“So what's wrong, and what do you want me to do?” I ask.
He smiles at that. “I'd forgotten how direct you can be. I've had to learn how to be indirect, how to play politics. For now, I want you to come with me to the Senate chambers. I want you to meet the others.”
The thought of meeting a bunch of senators doesn’t exactly fill me with happiness, but I’m here to help Rowan, and if this will let me see what I need to do, then I’m happy to go along with it.