I don’t have time to wallow. The healers are busy, distracted. They won’t know Albion is a threat.
He’s going to kill Leon.
“Thank you,” I say to the maginari. “I’ll come back to you. I will free you. Somehow. I promise.”
The gorgon snorts, while Linaros shakes his head. “You should know better than to make those kinds of vows to the maginari, human.”
“Not all of us humans are cowards. My friend Maeva has been planning to get you out since the moment she learned you were here. She’s the reason I knew how to find you.”
He goes still, studying my face. “She sounds like a good friend to have.”
“She is.” Shoving the helmet back on my head I turn, sprinting for the corridor that will take me back to the arena.
My feet thunder against stone, and it’s not until I round a corner that I realize mine aren’t the only feet pounding down this corridor.
I freeze, listening. Either the patrol is early, or I’m late.
“Oh look, it’s one of the emperor’s pigs,” the centaur calls.
“Come, human, lookkkkk.” The gorgon’s power sweeps toward me, potent even through the silver bars.
The footsteps stumble. “Fucking maginari.”
The maginari erupt into screams and insults, their voices maskingmy footsteps. I reach the third aether lamp and crouch at the intersection.
Please let me have the right lamp. Please.
My hand brushes several cool stones, and my relief makes me lightheaded. Maeva truly planned for everything.
Lifting the stones, I throw them with all my strength. They rattle down the opposite corridor, and the sound of approaching footsteps echoes down the corridor as the guard sprints faster. I press my body against the wall as his shadow rounds the corner, in the direction of the stones.
Seconds. I have seconds.
Lungs tight, breaths uneven, I sprint for the stairs, throwing my body up them and against the trapdoor.
I’m up and out of the maginari level within seconds, closing the trapdoor behind me. Sweat coats every inch of my body as I remove the attention-grabbing imperius armor and stash it in the corner to collect later. I force myself to walk at a purposeful yet unhurried pace back through the arena and to the corridor leading to the ludus.
Strong fingers clutch my upper arm and I whirl, dagger in my hand. Neris leans close, her expression coldly furious. “Where have you been?”
“Albion is the murderer,” I blurt out, shaking her off. “And he’s going to try to kill Leon. We’ve got to get to the healers.”
“Let’s go.”
Neris shoves the door open, falling into step next to me. We sprint along the corridors, weaving in and out of groups of novices.
“Arvelle.” Axia smiles as we burst through the door. “Maeva’s asleep, I’m afraid. And Leon already has a visitor, so if you wait a few minutes—”
“Who?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Who is visiting Leon?”
Her brows twist into a puzzled frown. “Albion.”
“No. No, no, no.”
Turning, I run down the corridor. My breath comes out in a sob, and Neris doesn’t hesitate, launching into a sprint once more.
