the hall, breaking her out of the spell.
She flew to her feet. Madoc pushed himself up beside her and gave her a firm look.
Unable to speak, she took his hand. He squeezed her fingers.
A heartbeat later, centurions kicked in the door and backed away to reveal—Geoxus.
Unease roared in Ash’s chest. But he wasn’t alone. As he stepped across the threshold and his guards retreated, two figures followed him into the room. Petros, and—
Ash’s blood went cold. “Seneca.”
Twenty-One
Madoc
MADOC’S GAZE SHOT from the god, in his sweeping black silk, to Petros’s jewel-studded robes, to the hunched woman in the baggy gray tunic who clung to his father’s arm for support.
What was Seneca doing here? Ash had said she was Soul Divine. Maybe the old woman was here against her will—Geoxus had been interested in Madoc’s anathreia as well. But that didn’t explain why Petros was touching her so gently.
“Well done, Madoc!” Geoxus stepped over the shattered door and placed his heavy hands on Madoc’s shoulders. “I admit, I was surprised to see your attendant try to step in and take the glory, but you put a stop to it, didn’t you? I assumed you wanted to kill the Kulan yourself, but I see that’s not the case!” His low chuckle rumbled in the room. “The things mortals will do for love never cease to surprise me.”
Wariness churned in Madoc’s stomach. Geoxus wasn’t upset that Elias had taken his place. He was praising Madoc.
“Rumors are already circulating that the Metaxa boy was tired of living in his champion’s shadow,” said Petros, petting Seneca’s hand. “That his jealousy became uncontained. The drama has only built the people’s anticipation—they’re calling for the true main event now. We’ll delay, of course, for another day or two. Make them purchase a new ticket in order to see my son.”
My son. The words chafed Madoc’s skin.
Nothing about the scene before him made sense. He hadn’t fought, and still Geoxus was delighted. Petros had threatened to kill Madoc’s family if he didn’t win the final match, and yet he seemed relieved. Seneca’s smile appeared more pleased than confused, and no one seemed to notice Ash at all.
With a lurch, the wrongness of the situation caught up with Madoc, and everything within him screamed to tear the man who’d killed Cassia limb from limb. The rage was so intoxicating, he could barely breathe.
Ash’s grip on his hand held him steady.
“Madoc is the hero Deimos needs,” Geoxus said proudly. “The time of gladiators is ending. The old crone said you’d be worth the wait, and she was right!”
The old crone must have been Seneca, but why Geoxus was calling Madoc a hero didn’t make sense. The last time he had seen the Father God, he’d been sure Geoxus wanted him to use soul energy to win this war, but now he seemed just as pleased that Madoc had used his power to save the enemy.
Geoxus’s smile, lit by the pale green phosphorescent glow of the stones in the walls, filled Madoc with dread. “The Kulan was as good as dead, but you used anathreia to bring her back. Do you know what this means? Do you have any idea what you’re truly capable of?”
Madoc slid back another step, trying to put more distance between them. “No, but I’m guessing you do.”
Geoxus’s laugh was booming. “I’m talking about a world with no war. Where the wealth of our great capital city will spill out into the neighboring countries, and nowhere, not even Kula, will suffer under the greedy hands of my siblings.” The god began to pace, a strange, frantic energy crackling off him.
Ash had warned him of this. Geoxus is just like Ignitus, only he hides it behind wealth and prestige.
“Madoc, we have to get out of here,” she hissed, her wary eyes still locked on the old woman.
But Madoc couldn’t focus on Seneca, or even on Ash’s concern.
“How?” Madoc heard himself asking. It felt wrong—Geoxus’s words were slick, his meaning hard to grasp. How did any of this have to do with his saving Ash in the arena?
Geoxus threw his arms wide, not seeming to notice the way the stones in the walls on either side of the room were punctured by the force of his geoeia. “If you can bring her back from the brink of death, think of what you can do for our people—for all people. What mortals could accomplish without the lines drawn between them.”
Wariness clenched Madoc’s shoulder blades together. “Are you talking about the Divine