to remove their access to fire. Now these stones were everywhere Ignitus’s gladiators might roam—the arenas, the docks, even their lodgings at the palace—so Madoc had heard.
With a somber nod, Lucius departed, his toga rippling behind him as he led Madoc and Elias down a narrow corridor that split from the main hall.
“Thank him for this opportunity, then don’t speak further unless spoken to,” Lucius said as they came to the stairs where a centurion stood guard. Without a word, the soldier let them pass. “Address him as Honorable Geoxus, or Father God. And stand up straight—you look like pigstock.”
Madoc locked his jaw to hide a wince and drew his shoulders together.
At the top was another hall, and across it a stone archway, bright with sunlight. Just outside, Madoc could make out palace attendants in black togas and dresses, city officials and senate members in white. Deiman men and women had more colors on their tunics and gowns than Madoc had seen in the jewel barrels at the quarry.
They’d reached Geoxus’s viewing box.
Madoc hadn’t remembered there being so many people here during the ceremony or fight, but now that it was over, everyone had flocked around the Father God, seated on a throne made of smoky quartz and amethyst.
His broad shoulders and thick, muscular form filled the entire seat and sent a wave of awe through Madoc. The Father God looked like a man but was immortal—stronger, sleeker, more in every way. And when he smiled at the group of men he spoke to, the wisdom in his gaze punctured Madoc’s confidence. He wasn’t sure what he should say, whether he should even look his god in the eyes, or if doing so would turn him to rubble. They’d told stories of that happening when they were children, but now the concept didn’t feel so farfetched.
What if Geoxus sensed he was a fraud?
There was no turning back now.
Lucius led the way, striding across the threshold into the sunlight. On weak legs, Madoc followed, but hesitated when a guard blocked Elias’s path with a spear.
“This is champion business,” Lucius said. “Your servant can wait in the hall.”
Elias’s chin jutted inward, but he had the good sense not to speak.
Without Elias, Madoc felt untethered. He didn’t belong in this place with these people, drinking wine and eating rich food off ruby-studded plates. He was a stonemason. Pigstock, unable to hide behind Elias’s geoeia.
He felt like the boy his father had kicked out all those years ago.
It didn’t matter. He was here for Cassia. Geoxus hadn’t noticed he was Undivine earlier; maybe he wouldn’t now, either.
Madoc gave a quick nod to Elias and followed his sponsor.
Whoever was talking to Geoxus backed away as Lucius approached, tightening the bands of anxiety around Madoc’s lungs. He’d thought they might have to stand in line to wait for the Father God. That he’d have a moment more to prepare what he was going to say.
“There he is now. Quite a show you put on, Madoc. You must be starving, yes?”
Madoc’s knees turned to water. Before today, Geoxus had been a statue in Market Square, a prayer that came easily to Madoc’s tongue. On rare occasions at festivals, Madoc and Elias had seen the Father God from afar, but though they’d clamored for a look like the rest of Deimos had, Geoxus had remained a pinprick at the end of their narrowed gazes, not even close enough to really distinguish from any other citizen. As a child, Madoc had never been permitted to go to the palace with Petros on senate business.
Now Madoc could see every precious stone sewn into the leather bindings of Geoxus’s sandals and feel the god’s power pulsing across the space between them.
Madoc scratched a hand over his skull, then quickly forced it down. He looked around for Ignitus, but the Kulan god was sulking in his seat, surrounded by servants. His hot glare burned in their direction.
Lucius slapped a companionable hand on the back of Madoc’s armor.
Geoxus had spoken. He was now looking at Madoc as if waiting for a response.
“I am. Honorable Geoxus,” he added.
“Well, you must eat. You’ll need your strength in the coming weeks, isn’t that right, Lucius?”
“It certainly is,” Lucius promised with a tight, gleaming smile.
“I . . . I look forward to the challenge, Honorable Geoxus.”
“Of course you do,” said Geoxus, and the pride in his voice gave Madoc a small dose of courage. A reckless thought kindled in his mind: If Geoxus favored him enough to