A palace centurion stuck his head through the window of the carriage, and after inspecting Madoc, flushed in surprise. “Apologies, champion,” he muttered quickly, then motioned the carriage through, a messenger charging ahead on horseback to announce his presence.
By the time Madoc had gotten out and paid his driver, his heart was in his throat. He clung to the dim hope that Geoxus would show him mercy. That since he hadn’t known Madoc wasn’t Earth Divine, he might not sense the deception in what Madoc was about to say. That Lucius, who he’d bypassed by taking a carriage straight from Market Square, had not already informed the Father God of Madoc’s strange tactics against Jann.
Madoc tried to keep a steady pace as he walked between the rows of palace guards that lined the path to the entrance, but everyone was watching him, and without the distraction of other party guests, he felt on display.
The glow from the pulsing white stones lining the path danced off the archway mosaic of Geoxus reaching an open hand toward the small people of Deimos. For some reason it made Madoc think of how Ash had said Ignitus was stripping Kula’s resources, and how Petros was wringing the Undivine dry.
If Geoxus provided, his people wouldn’t be in need.
He shook Ash’s voice from his head. Geoxus did provide. The Divine had everything they could possibly want, and the Undivine could too if men like Petros didn’t twist the Father God’s intent.
Geoxus wasn’t like Ignitus.
Madoc was asked to wait in the atrium, where he again found himself overwhelmed with the grandness of the enormous painted columns, and the fountains, spraying crystalline water over white marble figures. He stared out toward the terrace where he and Ash had danced before the gods and party attendees, and he straightened the decorative armor he’d changed into for this meeting.
He was still a champion. He needed to look the part.
The guard returned not long after and escorted Madoc into a long corridor that ran the length of the front wall. They stopped at a small room with a planked wooden floor that Madoc eyed with wary curiosity. He had not seen another room in the palace like it.
“The Father God will meet you in his chambers,” said a servant, an old man with wrinkles around his eyes. He motioned toward the room.
Madoc’s mouth went dry.
He stepped into the room. It seemed significantly smaller now that he was inside.
“You may wish to take hold of the railings,” the old man cautioned. “The movement can be jarring.”
Madoc wasn’t sure what he meant, but as his eyes lifted, his jaw dropped. The top of the room had no ceiling, only a wooden crossbeam. A twisted chain was fastened to the center and extended up into the long stretch of tunnel overhead.
Another smaller rope hung from the ceiling, and as the attendant gave it a sharp pull, the ground beneath Madoc’s feet lurched.
“What is this?” He’d been wrong. Geoxus was going to kill him. This unique torture device was just the start.
“A pulley of sorts,” said the old man as Madoc gripped a railing. “Someone at the top loads stones onto a neighboring box, and when it’s heavy enough to counter our weight, we rise.”
The floor lurched again, along with Madoc’s stomach. Then they began to lift, as if the room were floating.
Slowly, the corridor began to disappear below them. The entrance to the small room became a smooth, solid wall, slipping by faster and faster as they climbed.
“How . . .” Madoc adjusted his white-knuckled grip on the railing. Cold sweat dripped down his chest. “How high does this go?”
The attendant smiled. “To the very top.”
Higher they climbed. Faster, until Madoc’s stomach felt like it was in his sandals, and he was sure they had poked a hole through the clouds. When he looked up, the small flickering lights had grown larger, and a ceiling came into view. Fear gripped him. If they kept on at this pace, they were going to slam into it.
“Shouldn’t we be stopping?” he asked.
“Yes, just about,” said the old man.
Madoc’s knees bent. He hunched, making himself smaller.
A moment later the pulley slowed, and the doors that appeared before them opened up into another room, this one just as grand as the rest of the palace, with a high ceiling glimmering with onyx and opal like stars in a night sky, and walls painted with bloody gladiator victories in the arena. Books lined the shelves on one wall, and