Ignitus agreed. “Though Deimos stinks of mud, there are some things it can still offer. Let’s leave my gladiator out of this, shall we?”
Madoc looked away as Jann’s and Raclin’s sneers cut deeper.
“My apologies for leaving the party,” said Madoc, searching for whatever words would free him from the Father God’s questioning stare. “My loyalty remains to you despite certain . . . fascinations.”
He could feel a bolt of heat cut through his side from Ash’s fingertips. Lucius’s glare intensified, and Madoc knew he would be punished for stepping out of line and upsetting their god, however unintentionally. Still, chuckles rose from the crowd, and Geoxus’s gaze softened.
“Centurions,” the Father God said, “I want to know what happened to Stavos as soon as possible. Have my servants prepare his body for burial. He’ll receive a hero’s service.”
“Yes, Honorable Geoxus,” said the captain.
The guard watching Madoc drew away, and the other centurions followed. Without another look, Geoxus swept back toward the palace, Ignitus trailing him after an amused smile in their direction.
Madoc had to force his hand to uncurl from Ash’s shoulder. He sucked in a breath as he detached from her side, the air between them suddenly cold against his tingling skin.
“Thank you,” he said.
She nodded.
“I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Stavos.” He didn’t know why he told her this, only that he needed her to know.
“I didn’t either,” she said quietly. Her lips pursed in a worried frown, and his eyes dipped to them, lingering too long.
“If it wasn’t Ignitus, who do you think did it?” he asked.
She shook her head, brows pinched in worry.
“Ash.” A large Kulan gladiator approached. His gaze remained on Madoc, as leveling as the god of earth’s. Madoc stepped closer to Ash’s side.
“Come,” the gladiator said to her, his jaw tight. “You shouldn’t be so far from our people.”
Wariness worked through Madoc’s bones. He didn’t like the idea of her getting in trouble for being caught with him.
“Will you be all right?” he asked quietly as she took a step toward her fellow champion.
She hesitated, close enough to hide the brush of her wrist against the backs of his knuckles. Warmth streaked up his arm, knotting behind his collarbones. It was all the answer she could give, and it left a realization he was unprepared to face.
He didn’t want her to go. Not just because he didn’t want her to be punished, but because he liked talking with her. Being around her. Dancing with her.
This Kulan gladiator who was using him to gain access to Deimos’s records.
He pushed the thought from his head as she left with the other gladiator. He had more important things to worry about, like getting enough coin to free Cassia, and not being accused of murdering his opponents to advance.
“A shame about Stavos.” Petros came up beside him, his tone mildly disappointed, as if he were talking about a change in the weather. “Though, I admit, he was never my pick to win.”
Madoc’s disgust was pushed aside as Cassia hurried through the crowd behind his father, her servant’s gown clinging tightly to her ribs. Madoc’s gaze darted from her warning stare to the edge of a bruise on her shoulder, which she quickly hid beneath her sleeve.
He was going to kill Petros. But he couldn’t do it here.
It took all his focus to steady his voice. “I’d guess that meant you’d chosen me, but we both know that isn’t true.”
“Indeed,” said Petros. “You couldn’t beat any of these brutes.” His grin filled Madoc with cold dread, the same sickening feeling of defeat he’d encountered the day his father had turned him out. “Not without help, anyway.”
A buzzing filled Madoc’s ears.
“Someone did this to help me?” he asked.
She took it from me. He didn’t know anyone was capable of scaring the great Stavos, but there had definitely been fear in the man’s eyes.
Petros gave a small shrug, and it was enough to make Madoc feel as if the ground beneath his feet was shaking once again.
“Did you have something to do . . . ?” He couldn’t finish. He didn’t want to know. He wasn’t certain he’d believe Petros even if he admitted to the act—all Petros seemed to do was lie.
But if Petros had had something to do with Stavos’s death, the Father God had to be told. Geoxus would never support this. He’d loved Stavos.
Why was the Father God blind when it came to Petros?
Elias’s words in the arena corridor scratched to the surface