“The bathhouse behind the temple,” the young man says.“You’d better hurry, though, because the fights have already started.”
“There are fights in a bathhouse?”I ask Marcus, as we hurry away.
“In all kinds of places.They spring up and then disappear again, since they aren’t strictly legal.The more violent they are, the harder they are to locate.To find them, you have to know the right people, or spot the right signs.”
“Like the graffiti,” I guess.
"Exactly."Marcus sighs."One of the reasons I want to work to reopen the Colosseum is because closing it hasn't stopped the fighting.It's just driven it underground.People are still hurting one another for the entertainment of the masses, but they aren't protected by healers, aren't trained by experts."
“And the city doesn’t get to tax the revenue from them?”I guess.
“And that,” Marcus admits.“You must admit, the city needs the money to help its citizens at this point.”
I’m not sure what to think as he leads me behind the great temple of Aetheria, built in white marble and decorated with stones that pulse with magic.We head around to a building that’s built like a much smaller mirror to it, with elegant marble columns and statues of nymphs carved in front of it.
We head inside, and Marcus pauses to pay a couple of heavyset guards on the door.I guess they aren't usual for a bathhouse, suggesting that we're in the right place for the fights.As we go inside, I can hear the all-too-familiar sound of a crowd baying for blood, roaring every time a blow is struck or a fighter narrowly avoids disaster.It's a sound that carries far too many memories with it, of standing over the bodies of fallen foes, of wounds and pain and suffering.
“Are you all right, Lyra?”Marcus asks me.
“I’m fine,” I say.
He touches my face gently, turning me so I must look him in the eye.“You don’t have to pretend with me.”
I sigh.“It’s just bringing back bad memories, but I need to do this.”
“Well, I’ll be here if you need me,” Marcus says.
I’m grateful for his presence, even if I originally intended to come here alone.It’s not just that he clearly knows his way around the fights better than I do; it’s that there’s something comforting about him being there, something about him that makes me just want to be around him.Of course, in other ways, that’s anuncomfortable feeling, because I can’t deny that he’s an attractive man, and I’m not sure if I want to do anything about that.
Alaric made it clear that he wasn’t coming with me.Does that mean we’re done?After all the arguments between us in the past year, a part of me feels relief at that thought, but another part doesn’t knowwhatto think.
Marcus and I go deeper into the bathhouse, following the sounds of violence.There’s a crowd standing around a pool that has somehow been emptied for the occasion, serving as a pit in which people can fight.I see a woman being carried out, bloodied and unconscious, while another leaps up out of the pit, into the arms of a man who might be a trainer, a lover, or both.
People are rushing to the spots where a couple of bookmakers stand, taking bets.
“How much money do you think passes through here?”Marcus asks me.
I frown.“I don’t know.I haven’t thought about it.”
“I have,” he says.“And it’s enough that the taxes could pay for rebuilding work in the slums, or enough extra guards that people wouldn’t need to buy their own protection from gangs.”
Those both sound like good things, but I’m not sure if this is the moment to try to sell me on his idea of a reformed games.
“How do we find the people who sent killers after me?”I ask.
“I’ll ask around,” Marcus says.He puts an arm around me briefly.“But it might be better if I do it alone.If anyoneislinked to an attempt to attack you, they’ll hardly talk with you right there in front of them.”
“And they’ll talk to you?”I counter.
“I can be persuasive.”I can’t deny that.“Will you be safe if I leave you here briefly?”
“I’m not some delicate, fainting noblewoman,” I point out.
“I would never suggest that you were.But this is still a dangerous place, and you don’t know the way things work here.”
“I’ll be fine,” I assure him.“I’ll watch the fights and look for signs of anything suspicious.”
Marcus nods, still looking worried for me, but he’s right: I can’t go with him for this part.He can find out more without me than with me.So I let him go and push my way through the crowd as two more fighters make their way to the empty space of one of the baths.
