Madoc slid back another step, trying to put more distance between them. “No, but I’m guessing you do.”
Geoxus’s laugh was booming. “I’m talking about a world with no war. Where the wealth of our great capital city will spill out into the neighboring countries, and nowhere, not even Kula, will suffer under the greedy hands of my siblings.” The god began to pace, a strange, frantic energy crackling off him.
Ash had warned him of this.Geoxus is just like Ignitus, only he hides it behind wealth and prestige.
“Madoc, we have to get out of here,” she hissed, her wary eyes still locked on the old woman.
But Madoc couldn’t focus on Seneca, or even on Ash’s concern.
“How?” Madoc heard himself asking. It felt wrong—Geoxus’s words were slick, his meaning hard to grasp. How did any of this have to do with his saving Ash in the arena?
Geoxus threw his arms wide, not seeming to notice the way the stones in the walls on either side of the room were punctured by the force of his geoeia. “If you can bring her back from the brink of death, think of what you can do for our people—forallpeople. What mortals could accomplish without the lines drawn between them.”
Wariness clenched Madoc’s shoulder blades together. “Are you talking about the Divine and Undivine?”
Geoxus waved a hand, as if batting the worry from Madoc’s mind. “Forget the Undivine. They need much and give little.”
Madoc almost laughed. This had to be a joke. The Undivine were the backbone of Deimos. The city wouldn’t stand without their labor, their farming, theirtaxes. If he hadn’t mixed mortar at the quarry, the Divine architects might actually have had to use their own muscles. If he and Elias had been paid the same wages as those working jobs requiring geoeia, they would have had the coin to pay off Cassia’s indenture. Madoc never would have joined this war in the first place.
There was no humor in Geoxus’s eyes, only a wild, greedy light.
“Think bigger, Madoc. Imagine a Deimos where these petty wars were a thing of the past. Where Air and Water and yes, even your little Fire Divine, could live equally, peacefully, under a single god.”
“How exactly would that work?” Madoc managed, his eyes flicking to Ash. “The gods have fought for hundreds of years. You’re going to stop now?”
“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” said Geoxus. “With your help.”
“Impossible,” Ash said. “Ignitus will never submit to you.”
For the first time since entering the room, Geoxus’s gaze shifted to Ash.
Icy spindles of dread filled Madoc’s lungs. He edged in front of her. He could not shield her from a god, but if it came to it, he would try.
“He won’t have a choice,” Geoxus answered, his stare returning to Madoc. “Just like Jann didn’t have a choice when you defeated him in the arena.”
Madoc pulled at his tunic, now stuck to his chest with sweat.He could still see the fear in Jann’s eyes as Madoc took control of his mind. How easy it had been to make the stronger, more seasoned gladiator succumb to his wishes. “You want me to control Ignitus with anathreia.”
It was almost what Ash and Tor had asked him to do, and Madoc couldn’t help thinking that Ash must have hated having that in common with Geoxus, now that his true nature had been revealed.
He felt as if everything he knew had been turned upside down. Geoxus, Petros, Seneca. They were all in on this together—part of some grand plot to overthrow the gods using a power he’d only just discovered.
Geoxus’s smile cut through Madoc like knives. He stepped closer, forcing Madoc to raise his chin and meet his stare. “I want you to strip the fire from my brother’s veins. Then I want you to give it to me.”
Now Madoc did laugh, a strangled sound without humor. “I don’t know what my father’s told you, but I can’t take energeia from a person, much less a god.”
“Yet,” Geoxus said. “You will with practice. It’s what you were made to do.”
“Make you the god of fire?” Madoc shook his head. “What’s next? Air? Water?” Grim realization settled into his bones as he imagined feeding on gods the way Ash had said Seneca fed on Cassia. “Just because I healed someone doesn’t mean I can give energeia.”
“Why not?” Seneca asked.
Madoc’s gaze shot to the old woman.
“It is what the Mother Goddess did, after all,” she finished, her lipscurled into a cold grin. “Pushed energeia into the gods. At least what she used to do before her children diminished her powers.” Her gaze narrowed, briefly, on Geoxus before returning to Madoc.
He thought of her words in the preparation chamber after his fight with Jann and shuddered. The Mother Goddess had made the six gods by pushing pieces of her soul into them, and in turn, they had destroyed her.
“You want me to make you Soul Divine,” he realized, focusing on Geoxus. “You want to have the power of six gods.”
