wanted to see what you could really do.”
Madoc’s face paled. “I don’t—”
Seneca grunted in impatience. “I’ve watched you grow up, Madoc. You’ve always been far more sensitive to other people than most. If this is what you are, you could take down all your opponents like you did with Jann. Drive them mad by playing with their emotions, or weaken their geoeia until they were ordinary, or just pull their souls out like draining the milk from a coconut. You helped that girl without even thinking about it.” Seneca waved at Ash. “Imagine what you could do if you tried. You could take out any mortal. Or even, maybe, a bigger target.”
A bigger target? Ash felt her body grow light.
Could Madoc even affect a god’s soul? Was that why Ignitus feared him—not only because he was descended from a goddess who should be dead, but because Madoc could hurt him?
Ash’s mind spun with a mix of excitement and terror.
Madoc threw up his hands, cornered. “What happened with Jann was an accident, all right? The same with what I did for Ash. It was a fluke.” He looked at Elias, imploring. “Petros shouldn’t have touched you. That wasn’t the deal—”
He stopped, eyes closing on a wince.
“Deal?” Ilena twisted to Madoc, cutting in front of Tor and Ash as if they could have this conversation in private. “You made a deal with Petros?”
“Petros changed the cost of Cassia’s indenture,” Elias said. His bloodshot eyes never left Madoc. “He won’t accept coin now—the only way he’ll give us back Cassia is if Madoc wins the war. That’s what Petros’s men told me. When were you going to let us know about that, Madoc?”
“I had it handled,” Madoc bit through a clenched jaw.
Elias’s shoulders slumped. His eyes slid to Tor, then Ash. “Is that what you’re doing here? You want to make a deal with him too?”
“No,” Madoc said. “I won’t—”
But Elias grabbed Madoc’s arm. “Would you just shut up for a second and listen to them? Whatever they want can’t make things worse. If you stay in this war, you’re going to die. Petros already took Cassia. We can’t lose you.”
“Elias,” Ilena hissed, but Ash noticed how she looked from her son to the Kulan champions, waiting. She wanted to hear what they said too.
Tor stepped forward. “Earth Divine and Fire Divine together could easily free a servant. We’ll rescue your sister—if you try to use your powers on Ignitus.”
Ash gaped at Tor. She had never heard him say anything like that before, willingly putting himself—and Ash—in a dangerous situation for enemies.
But he returned her stare with a firm nod, resolution straightening some of the worry lines around his face. Seeing that change in Tor made all of this suddenly, shatteringly real to Ash.
Madoc had energeia they had never seen before. He could be the person Ignitus feared.
He could be the very thing she had been looking for to save Kula and bring down a god.
Madoc’s nose curled, disgusted, horrified. “You want me to try to affect a god? Do you have any idea what would happen to my family if I got caught doing something like that?”
“Madoc.” His name slipped between Ash’s lips. “Geoxus is just like Ignitus, only he hides it behind wealth and prestige. He has a list of my country’s resources, and he checks them off every time he wins one, as if he’s collecting them. We aren’t even asking you to turn against your god. Just ours. We have no idea if your powers can affect gods, but—we’d ask that you try.”
Madoc was silent long enough that hope welled in Ash’s throat. But when he shook his head, the flurry of it dissolving stabbed her like knives.
“And get my whole family killed in the process? What do you think Ignitus will do to them if I fail? This conversation—” He swept his eyes over the room, waving his hands wide. “This conversation never happened.”
Madoc pushed past Elias and Ilena. He yanked open the door and shouldered around Taro and Spark, the slapping of his sandals echoing up the hall.
Ash bit her lips together so she wouldn’t call after him. The way he had looked at her seared her mind like hot iron, the repulsion she had feared since she’d revealed his secret. Since she’d revealed her own.
He hated her. She had laid everything bare, and he hated her.
Ilena started to go after him when Seneca put her hand on her arm. “Take me home, Ilena,” she said. “This