The scent of burnt flesh is suddenly so heavy in the air, it coats my tongue, and I lean over and gag. To our left, high in the stands, three wardens stalk toward a group of mundanes and low-level sigilmarked. Some still chant furiously, while others attempt to shove their way out of the group. Those with enough power raise shields to protect themselves and their families. Others begin to beg for their lives, their voices high-pitched and terrified.
The wardens kill and kill.
“Why aren’t their shields protecting them?” I choke out.
“The wardens have harnessed aether,” Maeva chokes out. “It eats through basic shields.”
We need to get out of here. I grab Maeva’s arm, preparing to pull her with me.
“Wait, Arvelle, look!”
More wardens are storming toward the people just rows from us. Toward the sigilmarked family. The mundane farmers. The overtaxed, underfed, discontent citizens who stupidly voiced that discontent.
And the children in their arms.
I stumble over Maeva’s foot, both of us instantly changing directions. We don’t have to communicate. I’m already moving, jumping over the stone bench below us. And the one below that.
Maeva gets into position, standing with her feet spread, leaning down. “Go,” she says. “Throw them up to us!”
She turns to yell something at Kaeso and Garet. Garet immediately shakes his head, backing toward the aisle. Disgust claws into me but I’m already moving.
Chants turn to screams. The people below us have realized what is about to happen. The woman with the red hair begins shrieking as the warden approaches.
“Give her to me!” I scream.
Her eyes meet mine and she doesn’t hesitate. With one kiss to herdaughter’s head, she throws her toward me. I lean so far forward over the stone bench below me, I almost unbalance. But I catch the girl with the tips of my fingers, hauling her close.
She’s so small in my arms. But she’s also surprisingly strong, and she squirms, crying out for her mother. I twist, handing her up to Maeva, who immediately passes her up to Kaeso.
The woman reaches for her son. He must be five or six—old enough to understand something is very wrong. But he’s shaking his head, backing away.
Suddenly, Leon is at my side. “Why are you always in the middle of the chaos?”
The woman pushes the boy toward us, but he’s fighting to stay with his father. The man next to him picks him up and throws him into the air toward us, scrambling onto the seat in an attempt to follow him.
Leon’s sigil flares, and his wind pulls the boy closer. The boy lets out a defiant scream, but Leon keeps pushing until he falls into Maeva’s arms.
“Go, Arvelle,” Leon orders through his teeth. “Move. Now.”
I can’t. The man is reaching for his wife, hauling her up onto the seat. The movement costs him, and I see the moment he realizes he’s not going to make it. Already, the wardens are shouting the group’s sentences.
The man shoves his wife, and she launches herself toward us, aiming for her children. For safety.
I reach out an arm, grasping for her. Heat sears my skin, and Leon slams into me. I hit the stone with a thud, bones screaming. Flames sweep over our heads.
The flames disappear.
It’s suddenly eerily quiet. In the distance, I can hear hooves on the track, the charioteers still competing.
Leon lifts himself off me, coughing. I peer over the stone bench, looking for any sign of life.
The bodies are little more than blackened flesh clinging to bone.
“Mama!”
Behind me, Kaeso and Maeva each hold a child. Garet stares at us, his face pale. I stare back.You fucking coward, I mouth.
“You can’t be seen with them,” Leon mutters, flicking a hauntedglance toward the pulvinar. “Give the children to us.” Behind Leon, Albion stands, his face ashen.
