How harsh would that judgment be?I've helped to save the city more than once, but it seems clear that buys me nothing when I've also sought to tear down Aetheria’s precious games.The fact that the guards still hunt my supporters tells me everything I need to know about the reception I'm likely to receive if I use my own face on the streets.
Which is a pity, because it's such a beautiful face.I smile at that trace of the old arrogance I used to use as a mask for my feelings.Now I have a mask of a more literal sort, even if it's one made from illusions which move with my face, making the features of the rough farmer I'm pretending to be today crease into a smile.
I'm walking the streets as him to hear the rumors and to see the city.I find that, with every face I wear, I get a different side of the city.People treat me differently depending on who I'm pretending to be, and they tell me different things.As this farmer, I get to find out all about the ways certain nobles are controlling the food supplies into the city.On another day, I might hide behind the illusion of a guard or a noble, a courtesan or a juggler.In some ways, it's a game, but it's a game with a deadly forfeit should I lose.
I'm on the boulevard outside the colosseum for the moment, stopping at the stalls there, listening to the rumors as I buy small things.
“Did you hear?They're going to have death matches in the games again,” a woman says as she passes me a honey cake.
Just the thought of that makes anger rise through me, but I contain it, hiding it carefully so she won't see.
“Are you sure?”I ask her in a deliberately excited tone.I want to sound like an eager fan of the games who's hoping it's true, but who doesn't dare to believe it.
“I swear it.My boy was watching the proceedings up at the palace when they were deciding what to do with Selene Ravenscroft.They say she invoked her right to fight in the games for her freedom.”
“And the senate accepted that?”I say, unable to keep the surprise from my voice.I would have expected Rowan to shut down such an attempt and for Lyra to speak vociferously against it.Maybe they were outvoted, or maybe I don't know how they'll react these days.I thought I knew them both well, thought I knew Lyra better than I knew myself.Although that isn't saying much.If there's one thing I've managed to avoid over the years, it's self-reflection.
“They didn't have any choice, he says.It's the law still.Nobody repealed it, so they had to go along with it, or they’d be breaking their own rules.”
And I can't imagine them doing that.Even Lyra, who has fought against oppression outside the system before, now seems all too happy with her role at the heart of this new system.
“And of course,” the shopkeeper says, “if theydidtry to stop this, too many people would be upset.”
I sigh because it's all too true.As much as I and the others who have experienced the cruelties of the games want to shut them down, there's still a large portion of the population in Aetheria who view them as a vital source of entertainment, as something intrinsic to the city.They’re ready to riot if they don't get their way, too.
Can Lyra and the others not see where this is leading?Selene Ravenscroft is deadly, and while I'm sure they'll try to ensure she loses, that won't be an easy thing.Go too far and they'll be accused of rigging the fights, so again there will be riots.
And it means that death will be in the Colosseum once again.Once Selene has invoked her right to fight for her freedom, others will try to do the same.It's only a small step from there to forcing criminals into it, the way Domitian’s faction was trying to do for so long.
I thank the stall holder and keep moving.I pause briefly beneath the statue of myself, staring up at it as if I'm some admiring yokel who's never seen anything so impressive before.There's something gratifying about having a statue to myself in one of the most important spots in the city, but it also occurs to me that I onlyhavethis statue because I was a gladiator.That's what it depicts me as: as someone poised on the brink of violence on the sands.
That's not who I want to be.I'll fight if I need to, but these days I need a good reason.I'm fighting to help people, not just for their entertainment.I’ve fought gang members out in the slums to protect people and fought noble bodyguards who harass people.I’ve fought to uncover corruption and to stop others from taking the city.Those are all far better reasons than simple bloodlust on the part of the crowd.
I make my way to one of the safe houses my group has stashed around the city.It's important for me not to stay in one of them for too long.That would expose me to potential betrayal and capture.I don't want to think that any of my group would sell me out, but I can't take the risk, and there are so many ways for others to spy on us that it doesn't even need betrayal.One of my people could be followed back to me, or a psychomancer could strip the information from their minds.Or someone could simply torture them.I doubt Rowan would condone it, but there are those among the nobles who would do it without a second thought.
This safe house is a small space above a store selling sandals and other leatherwork.I head up there via back stairs, watching for any signs of others already there.I see a figure through one of the windows but I recognize her and she's meant to be meeting me.It's helpful to be the last one to arrive for these meetings, because it cuts down on the chances of me being ambushed.
Am I paranoid?No, these security precautions are all necessary.The capture of so many of my followers in the lead-up to Domitian’s rebellion shows that.Most of them were released, but some didn't make it, killed quietly in the dark by Domitian’s people, or unable to survive the beatings used to try to get information from them.And more have been rearrested since, now that it's clear we're not giving up on our mission to stop the games and free the city from corruption.The senate views us as enemies, when it should see that we're working for the good of Aetheria.
Thalia stands as I enter the bare Spartan room above the store.I let my illusions fall, saying goodbye to the face I've worn, because I don't like to reuse them if I can avoid it.If I wear the same face all the time, people can trace it back to me.
Thalia is one of the few people I trust enough to drop my disguise around.She looks me over.
“You look terrible.When did you last sleep?”
I laugh.“You know there was a time when women used to compliment my appearance, and sleeping was the last thing on their minds around me.”
“Yes, I know, you used to be so pretty,” Thalia says, in a biting tone.She's almost as sharp-edged as I used to be, sometimes.It's one of the things I like about her.That and the ease with which she does her job.
“Tell me about Lyra,” I say.It's only been moments since I've walked in, but it still feels like an eternity to hold back that question.
“You know you could just go to her?”Thalia says.
I shake my head.“It's too dangerous.I've almost been caught before doing it, and it would put her in an impossible position.”
“And you're worried about whether she still likes you or whether she's forgotten you in favor of that senator of hers?”Thalia guesses.That hits a little too close to home.
“Just tell me if we can trust her,” I say.
