Clever.
By my sixth lap, I know Baldric has an anger problem—as if that wasn’t already evident from the moment we met. He’s strong and fast, but each time his opponent gets beneath his guard, he takes it as a personal affront, his eyes hardening, teeth bared in frustration.
By my seventh lap, I know the best way to fight Hester will be to tire her out. She’s fast, but her stamina is lacking. Kaeso, on the other hand,never seems tostopmoving, the vampire dancing from side to side as he grins at his opponent.
By my eighth lap, I know if I ever have to fight Titus—the hulking brute of a man who seems to have more muscle than brains—I’d better have honed my speed to a knife edge. If he hits me even once, I’m in big trouble.
By my ninth lap, I’m too tired to focus. My abs feel like a knotted fist of pain, my arms throb, and my back muscles scream relentlessly at me.
Finally, I drop my parma, suppressing a wince at the ache in my arms. Leaning over, I suck in huge, panting breaths.
Leon’s eyes meet mine and he gives me a stiff nod. “Get something to eat and meet me back here after lunch.”
I keep my head high, attempting to hide my exhaustion as I stroll from the training hall. I know from experience I’ll barely be able to walk when I get out of bed tomorrow morning.
On a whim, I stroll past the dining hall, until I’m standing in front of the statue of Anoxian. It’s quiet here. Peaceful. Is Anoxian pleased by the emperor’s games? Or does he find them to be a poor substitution for true battle?
Several gladians have left more offerings at his feet overnight. A dagger—clearly new. A bunch of dried flowers, tied together with black ribbon. A set of bracers.
I’m not as pious as I should be. I’ve never felt the gods steering me toward any particular path as others claim to. And yet …
Please, Anoxian. Don’t let me die before I free my brothers. I’ll give you a good show in the arena. I’ll devote each challenge to you. Just help me stay alive.
Silence. I don’t know what I was expecting. Shaking my head at myself, I turn to go, but something catches my eye. A tiny mark carved into Anoxian’s chest. A mark that wasn’t there when I arrived yesterday, I’m almost sure of it.
A twisted spiral starts from a sharp point at the center and widens as it unfurls. Surrounding the spiral, thin, spidery lines radiate outward like cracks in glass, growing fainter as they extend. Encircling the spiral, a ring is punctuated by four distinct symbols in each direction—symbols I’ve never seen before. Tiny dots and lines are randomly dotted across the entire design, the gaps jagged and uneven.
The mark is entirely unfamiliar, but it makes my skin break out in goose bumps, makes a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck. My reaction to it is violent, a sudden wave of nausea crashing over me.
Giving into my instincts, I turn and hurry away.
ILOAD MYtray with flatbread, chicken, and fruit, before making my way toward a small table near the front of the room. A table where I can be alone.
A huge hand wraps around my upper arm. I yank at it, and my tray wobbles dangerously.
The Primus doesn’t release his grip.
I freeze, waiting for the cold slice of metal as his sword runs me through. Instead, the Primus leans close.
“You’ll sit with us.”
All the spit evaporates from my mouth. “No thank you.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
He hauls me toward the imperius’s table, and voices around us trail off. The back of my neck heats. At least eight of the imperiums are already seated, still wearing their intimidating black armor, although no one else is wearing a helmet.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask.
The Primus simply kicks a chair out from the table and nods at me to sit.
I hesitate.
He looms even closer, his armor creaking as he folds his arms.
The tables surrounding us are silent, the gladians watching my every move. I’m unlucky enough to glimpse the contents of several gladians’ mouths as they drop open midchew, their eyes widening as they watch us.
The man across from me removes his helmet from the table to give me more room for my tray. Amusement flashes in his eyes as he glances between me and the Primus. He’s a handsome bastard, with dark brown skin, sharp cheekbones, and eyes the same color as his bronze sigil.
