his back.
A knot twisted in Ash’s gut. She had wanted Stavos to suffer, but she couldn’t muster any satisfaction about this. Only nausea.
A lantern hung in the gate’s archway over them, casting the barest light. She grabbed for some of the igneia and flared it into a ball in her hands, bringing brighter light to the ground.
The centurions gasped. One snapped, “Damn Kulans.”
Madoc knelt and eased Stavos onto his side. “You, get help!” he shouted at a centurion. “Find him bandages, something!”
One of the guards bolted for the palace, the other for the guardhouse.
Ash moved the ball of fire closer. Her body ached as blood dripped from Stavos’s lips. She wanted to pull the igneia from her hands into her heart, infuse herself with strength. That desire grew when Madoc looked up at her and she realized he was just as scared as she was.
If Madoc was part of the plot against Ignitus and the gladiator her god feared, how did he manage to fill his eyes with such raw, honest horror?
Ash balanced the fire in one hand as she dropped to her knees and grabbed Stavos’s sweat-stained collar. Her resolve was fraying. If Madoc wasn’t part of this, and Stavos was dying—she had no leads. She had nothing.
Her mother’s murderer was here, bleeding out in front of her. He was dying at her feet, as she had wanted, as she had ached for.
It didn’t feel like justice.
It felt like a frayed knot.
Ash bent closer to him, the light in her free hand stabbing into Stavos’s bloodshot eyes, widening his pupils. “Did Ignitus do this to you?” she demanded.
Stavos coughed. His eyes spun in their sockets. “No, no, not—” He coughed, blood splattering Ash’s knees. “She took it. She took it from me. Stop—”
And as more centurions came from the palace in a swell of noise and light and party guests, Stavos seized and went limp on the ground.
Eleven
Madoc
STAVOS OF CRIXION was dead.
Madoc stared at the body, his gaze darting from the arrows protruding out of Stavos’s broad back to the raised welts on his chest and face to his dull brown eyes, open and unblinking. The giant of a man who had threatened Madoc and taunted Ash only days before looked small now, incapable of the many victories he had accrued as a gladiator.
As the ground began to rumble, Madoc jolted upright. Stavos’s blood was slick on his arms and hands, and the more Madoc tried to wipe it away, the more it spread, smearing crimson across the bottom of the white tunic that peeked out beneath his armor. It reminded him of the time Ava had spilled honey—by the end of the day it had somehow transferred to Ilena’s hair, and Madoc’s and Danon’s clothes, and Cassia’s and Elias’s faces. The memory of that laughter was as foreign now as it was sharp, and Madoc hated himself for even thinking of it.
“Be still.”
Madoc turned to find Ash staring at a white marble statue near the gate. The figure’s chiseled form seemed to be twisting, the stone of his outstretched arms rippling, swelling, as if a hundred snakes were moving beneath stretched silk. The figure’s face became distorted, the jaw spreading while the mouth opened in a silent scream. The waist grew thick. The legs divided to make a monster with four sandaled feet.
Madoc fought the urge to scramble back; he’d never seen anything so horrible or exhilarating. His heart pounded with new terror. Around him, the guards had dropped to their knees; in fear or reverence, Madoc didn’t know.
Then, before he could draw another breath, the statue split, and Geoxus shed his marble skin, leaving the figure behind him as flawless as it had been moments before.
Madoc gaped. He’d heard that Geoxus could move through stones, but he’d never seen it for himself until tonight. He nearly forgot Stavos lying dead on the ground until the Father God veered toward Madoc and Ash, his black toga rippling in his wake.
“How did this happen?” Geoxus roared, his hands open with lethal intent, the thunder in his voice making the stone wall around the gate vibrate. He crouched beside the body. Behind him, a sea of guards rushed from the palace, the clap of metal and leather armor filling the night. They surrounded the area, blocking the guests who had come to see what had happened.
Madoc trembled, glancing back to the statue Geoxus had emerged from. The god of earth was every bit as powerful as the stories people told,