Instead of standard bolts, the crossbow is equipped with a cradle at the end of the drawstring, lined with soft material. I crouch, noting a canvas sack near the vampire’s outstretched hand. Pulling it toward me, I peer inside.
Aether bombs.
Roughly the size of an apple or a small grapefruit, most of them are spherical, while a few have a slightly elongated shape. Heart pounding, hands trembling, I gently pull one free, my lungs aching as I hold my breath.
The outer shell is etched with runes that turn my fingertips numb. Placing the aether grenade in the cradle, I pull the lever, drawing back the string and locking the cradle into place with a satisfying click.
Movement across the arena. I jerk backward into the shadows, my heart in my throat.
Fifteen or twenty Praesidium guards are slowly inching away from the gate. Behind them, I catch a single glimpse of Vallius Corvus’s furious face.
The vampires have somehow taken out his planned escape. Now, the emperor will have to cross through the open arena to get to another gate.
Dark satisfaction spreads through my body. For oncehe’llstand on blood-red sand, vulnerable and terrified.
Six guards step forward, raising their hands in unison. A ward begins to form. Their sigils glow …
One of the guards suddenly lets out a high-pitched shriek. Another slaps his hand against his forehead and leans over to vomit, while the guard next to him falls to her knees with a scream.
What … why …
I twist, scanning the arena, and my gaze finds Calena hidden behind an overturned bench, her face covered with blood. Her expression is twisted with rage, her silver sigil flaring bright. My ears begin ringing, my hands clutching the crossbow tighter.
She’s preventing them from using their shields. I didn’t even know such a thing was possible.
Comprehension washes over me in a rush. A sigilmarked rebel, working from within to help the vampires kill the emperor. Calena has to know the emperor will merely be replaced by yet another vampire, but …
The enemy of my enemy …
Bran got to her. My instincts had prickled the night of the ball when I saw him watching Calena with that considering expression. I warned her the day he murmured to her in the Hall of the Gods. But can I truly blame her for jumping at the chance to target Vallius Corvus?
No. Not when I can see true fear on the emperor’s face for the first time. Delicious fear. Satisfaction floods my veins. Whatever he expected of the rebels, he never thought they’d be able to prevent his guards from using their power.
This is it. This is my chance.
A mammoth chunk of marble lies mere feet away, close enough to the stands that I can climb it. Slinging the crossbow over one shoulder, I haul myself up. The first row of the stands is several feet above my head.
I back as far as I can along what is left of the marble bench. Taking a deep breath, I sprint for the stands, launching myself into the air. My hand wraps around cool steel, and I strain with the effort of pulling myself up.
I knew I should have spent more time on those fucking ropes.
“Move, move, move,” I chant, climbing up onto the nearest marble seat. If the emperor retreats from the arena, I won’t get another chance.
I leap over the cracked remnants of the next bench, sweeping the crossbow from my shoulder. Higher. I have to get just a little higher.
The smartest thing for the guards to do would be to wait for reinforcements. But this could just be the first wave of a series of attacks. If they wait much longer, they could get pinned down. I have to get as high as possible, so I can escape from one of the exits at the top level. If I get caught anywhere else in the arena after killing the emperor, I’m dead.
An explosion sounds from outside the arena, and the stands lurch, shoving me off-balance. I trip, catching myself on one hand. Sharp pain shoots through my wrist as my hand takes the brunt of my fall.
The edge of the crossbow hits the stone floor. Terror punches into me and I brace, sucking in a breath. But either the aether bombs are less fragile than they look, or it’s blind luck that I’m still breathing.
My entire body trembles, and I wrestle with the fear.
Move. Don’t you dare miss this chance.
The stands stretch out in front of me, and I climb higher and higher, forced to scramble over and under rubble, around bodies and the remnants of bodies.
I’m almost at the top when I see a tiny hand, sticking out from a huge block of concrete. My eyes burn, the unfairness of it choking me, and I move faster, driving forward, fresh rage powering my every lunge.
