empty hall stretching on, a beckoning hand she wanted so badly to reach out for. The temptation would be even worse once they were in a carriage, wheels clacking through silent, empty streets.
“Are you all right?”
She spun to Madoc. Behind his wariness, there was honest concern on his face.
“You haven’t been a gladiator very long, have you?” Ash swallowed the waver in her voice.
Madoc resumed walking. Ash followed a step behind, so he had to turn slightly to see her.
“A few months,” he said. “Why?”
“You’re still . . .” Ash hesitated. Madoc glanced back, and she dropped her gaze. “A decent person.”
He snorted. “If that were true, I wouldn’t be here.” He angled them down a set of stairs. “Elias and I started fighting to earn money. It sort of got away from us.”
“Elias?”
“My brother—my attendant now, I guess.”
Ash tipped her head. Was his brother part of whatever task Madoc had been sent to fulfill? “You were fighting. How? With your fists?”
She watched the muscles in Madoc’s shoulders tense all the way up his neck. “It’s complicated. We need money to get my sister released from servitude. The man who has her—” The words seemed to choke him, and he shook his head. “It was a mistake,” he finished.
Confusion rendered Ash momentarily silent. That was Madoc’s cover for being in this war? That he was trying to free his sister? It was such a simple, personal reason, and it had nothing to do with the actual war itself.
None of this information made anything about Madoc clearer.
They came to a door. Madoc pushed it open, depositing them in a wide yard lit by a high, round moon. The air hung heavy with sweet hay and dust, ripe with the first bitter twist of colder nights. To the left sat a grand marble-and-brick stable. Carriages and horses stuffed it now, a few stable hands rustling around, keeping their masters’ transports ready for whenever they deigned to leave the ball. The gates of the stable yard sat open on the right, with two centurions standing guard, leaning on spears and idly chatting in the easy assignment.
There was igneia in the stables. Ash could see it flickering in lanterns. She breathed easier seeing it so much more available. Had Madoc noticed the flames?
“And you think this war will free your sister?” Ash managed. “Is she Earth Divine?”
Is she descended from another god, like you? Which god?
What are you really fighting for?
Madoc faced her, the palace at his back, the quiet stable yard feeling expansive around them. His eyes went hard with distrust. “Yes to both. Why?”
Ash matched his stiff-backed stance. She recognized that type of reaction. Many of the other fire dancers had looked at her like that whenever she’d slipped and said something against Ignitus, their features contorting with equal parts disgust that she’d spoken against their god and uncertainty that maybe they’d heard her wrong.
But Madoc’s reaction wasn’t in relation to his god. It was about his sister, and the difference made Ash’s chest swell with the need to explain.
She bit her lips, which made his eyes drop to her mouth.
She hadn’t meant to do that.
She should have meant to do that.
She shouldn’t be worried about what he thought of her, but his eyes were dark and deep and he was standing so close, almost as close as they had been in the dance.
He was so flustering.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Ash said. “I know what it’s like for someone you love to be trapped. Not knowing what the next day will bring for them. Forced to watch them suffer. It makes you feel so—”
“Helpless,” Madoc finished, studying her.
Ash nodded. “Yes,” she whispered, though she barely heard her own voice.
Behind her, the centurions at the gate shouted. “Halt! No beggars in Geoxus’s palace!”
“Let me through!” a different voice cried. “I must—I must see—Father God, please—”
Ash whirled at the sound of a fist striking flesh. The centurions had closed together, blocking the open gate, while a lone figure struggled to pass them.
“Father—” The man coughed, gurgled. “Father God—”
Madoc lurched forward, squinting in the darkness. “No—Stavos? Stavos—let him through! He’s one of Geoxus’s champions!”
Madoc took off and Ash shot after him by instinct, sandals slapping the packed earth.
Her stomach roiled. Stavos was here?
They got to the gate as the centurions pulled apart. Stavos fell to the ground between them.
Blood and bruises covered his body, and each breath came with a quivering gasp, vibrating his ribs, his arms—and the three arrows sticking out of