But I’m notjustthinking about Marcus.I’m worried about how little we’ve accomplished here tonight, and how dangerous our situation is.We’re walking through a world of influence and subtlety, but somehow, I know none of this will be decided that way in the end.Somehow, I know the fate of Aetheria will come down to violence, and I’m determined to be ready.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Marcus keeps his distance when we get back to his villa, serving me wine but not closing the gap between us across the table.I don’t know whether to be grateful for that or disappointed.The part of me that remembers us as lovers aches with a sudden, surprising desire for him.The rest of me is glad I’m not going to betray Alaric like that.
At this point, I’m not even sure what to think when it comes to the two of them.They’re opposites in so many ways.Alaric is all lean muscle and acerbic wit, refusal to work within the system and carefully constructed arrogance to hide how much he cares about the world around him.Marcus is muscular and handsome in his own, more clean cut way, but he’s happy to be a part of Aetheria’s system, trying to change things from the inside.
In one way, though, maybe they aren’t so different: they both have false selves they present to the world.It’s just even those false versions of themselves are opposites.Alaric pretends he doesn’t care, pretends to be this dangerous figure everyone should stay away from so they don’t see the core of kindness and the need to help others.Marcus has those things, but he’s also careful to make sure the world sees them so it doesn’t see the corruption he’s prepared to wade through in the name of what he thinks is right.
“What are you thinking about?”Marcus asks, looking deep into my eyes as if he can read the truth there.I’m glad he can’t, because it would make things far too complicated between us.This is a situation where he has all the power over me.I can’t just give myself to him like this.
“I was thinking I need to be ready to fight when it comes to it,” I say instead.“After tonight, I’m more convinced than ever that this will come down to violence.”
“I hope you’re wrong,” Marcus says.“I still hope the right persuasion and political moves behind the scenes might be enough to sway things our way.”
“But do you really think it will work out like that?”I ask him.
“I don’t know,” Marcus admits.“Which is why I think you’re right.You need to train to fight again.We both do.Get some sleep and I’ll see what I can arrange.”
I head to bed alone, thinking of the threats to come and hoping I’ll be able to fight well enough to counter them.The dampener feels like a heavy weight on my arm, reminding me of my own weakness exactly at the moment when I need to be strong.
I wake with the morning sunlight to the sound of someone knocking at my door.It’s Marcus, and he tosses something my way.I only realize as I catch it that it’s gladiatorial armor, a mixture of leather sections with metal scales that probably show off as much of the wearer’s body as they protect.
“Where did you get this?”I ask.
“You think I didn’t organize underground fights for months without being able to lay my hands on armor and weapons?”Marcus counters.“Put it on and meet me outside.”
I clamber into the armor, wondering what Marcus has planned.It feels strangely familiar to be wearing something like this again after so long.I head to the doors of the villa and the servants make no move to stop me, for once.Apparently, they’ve been told I’m allowed out into the grounds, now.
Marcus is waiting out there on a bare patch of ground.He’s dressed in a brief tunic and sandals, already holding a wooden sword.He tosses me a long staff, clearly meant to represent the kind of spear or trident I’m used to wielding.I catch it smoothly, testing the weight of the weapon.
“I’m going to have the servants bring practice posts and better weapons later,” Marcus says.“For now, we both need to work on this, so show me what you can do.”
“Are you sure?”I ask him.
“You think I can’t keep up?”Marcus counters.
“I’m a trained gladiator, and while you’ve followed the games, you’ve never had to fight in them.”
“Then show me the difference,” Marcus says, bringing up his sword.
I lunge at him with the staff, forcing him to leap back to avoid it.I swing it in a rapid pattern of attacks that he barely blocks.Marcus is doing better than I anticipated, his footwork sure, his blade moving to intercept my attacks rapidly.But whatever training he’s received isn’t the same as being forced to train in Ironhold, in the knowledge that the colosseum awaits at the end of that training.I give ground, allowing Marcus the opportunity to attack now.I let him work on his thrusts and slashes, seeing what he can do.He overextends on just one attack, but it’s enough.I hook his leg with my staff, sending him tumbling to the ground.I stand over him with the end of my staff at his throat.If it were a spear, I would have won.
Marcus smiles.“Impressive.”
Even as he says it, he sends a jolt of lightning up towards me, forcing me to leap back long enough for him to get to his feet.Marcus sends more bursts of magic out as we continue to spar, and that levels the playing field between us a lot, because it means I can’t be careless for a second unless I want to feel the agony of his lightning on my skin.
My own lack of magic is a hindrance.Normally, in a bout like this, I would reach for the speed and grace of surrounding animals, or see the fight through the eyes of birds above as well as my own.Training with Marcus like this, I’m forced to rely only on my own trained reflexes and strength.Maybe that’s a good thing, though, because it’s going to force me to get faster and stronger, to return to the kind of athletic shape I possessed when I was still a gladiator.
But it also means, among all the times I beat him, Marcus getsonemoment of triumph.I close on him too quickly and his hand grasps my arm, sending a jolt of lighting through me that momentarily stuns me.I fall to the ground with Marcus atop me, his wooden blade pressed to my throat.A flicker of lightning plays across my skin.
“That one hurt,” I say.
“Call it payback for all the times you hit me with that damn stick,” Marcus retorts.He’s just inches away from me.“And it doesn’thaveto hurt.”
Now, the lightning is more of a tingle across my flesh, something that makes goosebumps rise to the surface.
There’s a very pointed cough from the side of the training area.
