Three enforcers stand in front of the gate, blocking my way.
I’m past the first enforcer in an instant. The second enforcer opens his arms wide in an attempt to block me, and I dodge left and then right.
The crowd gasps at something in the arena, and I hear a feminine voice cry out in pain.
Alive. She’s alive.
My hand finds the hilt of my sword and a sound leaves my throat. A sound I don’t recognize.
The last enforcer holds up his arms, his sigil flaring. I duck, and within a moment, I’m through the gate.
Time slows to a crawl as I sweep my gaze over the wide expanse of sand. I’m surrounded on all sides, the seats above me packed with the emperor’s favored. They blur together into a red-faced, open-mouthed mass, their screams a dull drone in my ears.
To my left, Maeva stumbles, her head dripping blood. Her glazed eyes are wide, her pupils blown as she frowns at her sword, studying the blade like she’s never seen it before.
Drugged. They’ve drugged her.
Heat floods my veins, and my vision flares white. The force of my rage is so overwhelming, it locks every muscle in my body.
Poison is against the emperor’s rules, but Maeva will be dead before anyone can prove Baldric and Hester were responsible.
Unless I kill Baldric first.
My muscles loosen, and I step farther into the arena.
The color drains from Maeva’s face.You’re not allowed in here, she mouths.
The screams of the crowd fade into a low whine. And suddenly, it’s no longer Maeva who is standing in front of me.
It’s Kassia.
Kassia who’s giving me that shaky, apologetic smile, her eyes filled with the knowledge of her death.
Kassia’s eyes turning blank, lifeless.
Kassia who’s gone, when it should have been me.
“Well, this is interesting.”
I yank myself from the past, and Baldric’s gaze meets mine, his eyes ablaze with triumph.
The arena goes silent.
From here, I have a perfect view of the emperor seated in his imperial box. The purple silks have been replaced by crimson, the long banners hanging from the pulvinar like bloodied rags.
Vallius lounges in his padded chair, a cup in one hand. He’s deep in discussion with Sigilkeeper Darius Melus. On his left, the emperor’s mistress gulps at her own cup, casting a disdainful glance at us.
Sweat drips down my back, my face slick with it. I blink the sting from my eyes as the emperor pauses his conversation.
I can’t read his expression from here. But he waves his hand dismissively, giving his permission for the fight to continue as he turns back to the sigilkeeper.
Saliva floods my mouth, dread coiling in my stomach. I back toward Maeva, positioning myself in front of her and slightly to the right. She leans down and retches.
“Just stay there,” I mutter. Hopefully she can hear me.
Brown eyes meet mine, slowly turning blank. All the things we were meant to do. The lives we were meant to live.
Gone.
