Some of them cheer.A few of them boo.I’m sure plenty of them still think I’m a traitor, even if others remember the things I’ve done to fight for the city.
Marcus and I stride towards the colosseum, a wave of humanity behind us.I don’t know if it’s about support so much as because they simply want to see what happens.The guards on the colosseum gates look a little nervous, but they know Marcus as one of the key figures of the games.
We walk inside, into a space reserved for officials and bookmakers.The crowd is pouring in behind us.One such official seems to be waiting for us, standing there before us without any sense of surprise that we're coming.Clearly, Marcus made sure he knew in advance that we were on our way.
“Senator,” the official says.“It’s good to see you.I believe you have something for me?”
Marcus holds out a scroll.“These are the official papers to enter Lyra Thornwind into the Grand Tournament.”
It occurs to me that he could have entered me officially some time ago.Did he hold off so it would have more impact, or was he waiting to see if I would be strong enough to survive before he went ahead with it?I don’t know, but the official seems happy enough to take the scroll.
“Thank you, Senator.We’re happy to accept Lyra Thornwind into the tournament.”
The speed with which he says it makes it clear this is all part of the show Marcus is putting on for the people crowding into the space behind us.He’s already been working hard behind the scenes to make sure I’m going to be accepted.
There's one final piece of theater here.The bookmakers run to the boards on which they proclaim their odds, writing my name alongside those of the other gladiators.I try to ignore just how generous the odds they offer are; the bookmakers obviously do not think I'll last long.But this isn't like my first days in the colosseum, when almost no one would bet on me.The members of the crowd are rushing forward, already ready to place their bets.
It’s done; I’m entered into the Grand Tournament.In just a couple of days, it will begin, and I’ll have to fight for my life.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
One more day, and the tournament will begin, which means there’s something I have to do.Marcus puts his arms around me.
“I’ll see you in the arena,” he says.“Stay safe until then.”
“You too,” I reply.
I step from his estate, and there are guards waiting for me.They form a ring around me as I head through the streets, and I'm not entirely sure if they're there to make sure I don't run off or to keep the crowds back.There are certainly plenty of people out in the open air to watch me as I make this walk through the city to its edges, and beyond.
I walk along the long path to Ironhold for the first time in months, the fortress standing black and forbidding at the end of my journey.It's built from granite, where most of Aetheria is constructed from white marble.It clings to one of the hills beyond the city, its walls sheer and topped with spikes.There are bodies on those spikes again, although I doubt they're those of gladiators who disobeyed, the way they once were.Perhaps they're the remains of criminals killed in the arena, or simply executed quietly.Aetheria has become a harsh place again, even without Selene formally seizing power.
The walls have been repaired since the last time I was here, when a fight between me and Selene resulted in substantial damage to the structure.Once again, the fortress seems capable of containing even the strongest gladiators, and that will be its purpose tonight.All those taking part in the Grand Tournament are expected to spend the night here tonight, so we can all join the formal procession into the city tomorrow.
The guards peel away from me as I reach the gates, and I walk inside, feeling as though I’m being swallowed by the maw of a great beast.There’s an open training area beyond, in front of the main buildings of the fortress.I can see gladiators standing there, some attended by servants, others standing alone.They all seem to be looking around at one another as if trying to size up the competition.
I see one dark-haired woman standing beside a chariot, wearing armor that seems to be composed of living plants.She must be Lorelei.Another man is huge and bearded, with shaggy blond hair and a furious expression.I guess this might be Jor, the mountain barbarian.Karubus is there with his spiked armor and a mask that mimics a skull, while there’s an assortment of others standing around.One man is receiving a massage from a trainer who looks so similar to him the two might be brothers.A woman is sharpening a blade almost obsessively.They all watch me as I walk into the courtyard, some with careful consideration, a few with obvious confidence.Are any of them afraid of my reputation as a former champion of the colosseum?Or do they see the dampener on my wrist and assume I won’t be a threat?
Some of them are whispering to one another, but they fall silent as a figure walks out from the main building of Ironhold, accompanied by trainers and guards.
Selene Ravenscroft isn't dressed like an empress today.Instead, she's wearing patches of shimmering scale armor, a curved blade belted at her hip, and shimmering silver bracers on her wrists.Selene's hair is bound up in an elaborate series of braids now, rather than hanging free, clearly so it won't get in the way if she has to fight.Everything about her declares her status as a gladiator like us, but the very fact that she's walking at the head of the trainers makes it clear she's still in charge of everything here.
“Welcome,” Selene says, looking out over us all.“You are here because you are going to become part of something special, something the people of Aetheria will remember for generations to come.”
She pauses for effect, but the gladiators aren’t some crowd of ordinary citizens to cheer her every utterance.Selene keeps going.
“You’ve been chosen for the Grand Tournament of Aetheria because you are some of the strongest gladiators, not just from Aetheria and its provinces, but from all the known lands of the world,” Selene says.“Each of you is special, proof of the power magic holds.In the morning, we will all join a grand procession down into Aetheria and to the colosseum.Tonight, though, be welcome here, in Ironhold.”
Selene sweeps her arm around like a host welcoming guests to a party.
“Some of you,” and here, her gaze rests on me, “will be familiar with its halls.Others may have heard stories about it.Once, this was a place that molded the finest warriors of Aetheria.”
“It’s a place that took slaves and worked them cruelly before throwing them into the colosseum,” I counter.
Selene smiles tightly.
“But can you deny it helped to make you into the gladiator you are today, Lyra?A gladiator who is all too keen to throw herself back into the fray.”
Selene doesn’t give me a chance to point out that I’m only fighting to try to stop her.Instead, she gestures to the doors of Ironhold’s inner structures.
