“What is it?” Roman called out first, gruffer than before.
Ksenianoticed. Her gaze flicked to me, accusatory, but I merely shrugged in response.
“We’re approaching the arenas,” she claimed. “Thought we might want to warn him.”
She jerked her head in my direction but, when Roman only frowned, she sighed and, rolling her eyes, turned to me.
“Do you know what the arenas are?” she asked.
I thought for a moment.
“I’m assuming the seated venues in which theGeistgather to observe the Trials,” I replied dryly.
Her gaze flicked between us once more but then she simply nodded and turned back to mount Phantom again. We were moving a few moments later.
As thankful as I was forKsenia’swarning, nothing could have prepared me for the sight that awaited me when we came to the end of the set of orange rocky cliffs that had been obstructing our vision of the larger desert beyond. Arenas, ten of them, enormous and rising from the sand as if made of the desert itself greeted us. Rows of arches stacked atop one another in a circle, four levels high. Immaculate in upkeep with courtyards and decorated paths running between them, they towered over even the cliffs around them, seats rising high in the bright blue sky looking down onto a dome below.
I slowed my horse involuntarily as we got closer, peering through the gaps in the columns, open to allow for a merciful breeze in this hot, dry land. When I saw the dome in the center, my stomach bottomed out. I could see it from here, the small square pool nestled in the center of a dark room adorned with ancient marble busts of the gods. The busts Adrian and I had destroyed had been replaced. The water that had spiraled out of control, nearly drowning me and sending Cyrus into a coma, sat still and silent. I knew there was a golden key shimmering at the bottom of that pool, waiting to claim its next victim or victor. I wondered which it would be. And when.
“Dante,” Roman said. I snapped out of my reverie to find him frowning at me. “We shouldn’t linger.”
I nodded and spurred my horse onward, pulling my gaze away from the arena containing the fourth Trial and each one after. I didn’t dare look too closely at another one, not with the rage coursing through my veins at the realization of what occurred here.
They watched. They justwatchedas Cyrus nearly died, as others did. They watched Adrian and I cut ourselves to pieces on their wall of knives, as she sliced my arm off and I fell to a wave of agony more intense than anything I'd ever experienced before or since, as the voices of our friends and family tortured us with our worst fears. They sat and lounged in their seats as the weight of the air nearly crushed us against the rocks of the third Trial, as their poison darts almost sent us falling numbly to our deaths, as their snakes swarmed us, as that avalanche almost suffocated us. And they did nothing. Not a single thing. Not ever.
My palms burned against the reins I held too tight. I blew out a breath in a hiss of controlled fury. Roman’s jaw tensed but he didn't turn to me as he spoke, his voice low and somber.
“I told you, Dante. They're not gods. Not any worth worshiping, at least.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Adrian
“Your gods took my son! Someday, they’ll take yours too.”
— As Spoken by Livia Cairns, Mother of a Culled
“You have questions,” Prima’s voice rang out calmly in the tent as Gryfon turned away to pull a shirt on over his head, frowning and glaring at Prima all the while. “Understandably.”
I hardly dared to move, afraid any sudden movement might cause her to think better of telling me the truth. I’d been kept in the dark for so long already, by so many people, I wasn’t even sure I could trust whatever it was she was about to tell me. Even so, she was the only person who was offering me any sort of explanation at all. I couldn’t risk missing out on that. Not now. Not with my family, my home, and potentially my life hanging in the balance.
“You’re lucky you have someone to ask your questions,” she mused, eyes trailing to Gryfon before snapping back to me. “I certainly didn’t.”
She settled in again, this time on the commander's own cot. She leaned back against it, gripping the edge with her handsin a show of comfort I thought rather out of place in present company. Then again, he had been shirtless when I'd entered. Perhaps there was more intimacy to their relationship than I knew. Something about that created a burning sensation in the depths of my gut I fought hard to ignore. I glanced toGryfonfor some sort of indication as to whether or not her ease was out of place but found his gaze set firmly on me in a glare I thought might blaze straight through to my soul if he wished. Clearly, he wasn’t pleased at having been interrupted with his visitor.
“Go on then,”Primasaid, waving impatiently, brow arched in preparation.
“You said theGeistcan't enter Sanctuary,” I accusedGryfon. “Why not?”
“Ah, to understand the answer to that question, you must understand the history between our people and theirs. Obviously, you haven’t been told that particular tale. I’ll make it short and sweet for you. TheGeistaren’t from our world. They came here and started either killing or breeding with humans, the originalnon-magicalinhabitants of this world. That breeding created us, half breeds, orVerdunnas they so generously called us. When their war against the humans started, or perhaps genocide is what I should call it, they didn’t know what to do with us. SomeVerdunnsided with theGeist, some with the humans. They, of course, killed all those who sided with the enemy but the optics would have been bad had they tried to kill those who fought on their behalf. Still, they couldn’t be allowed to dwellamongstthem, dirtying up their precious city with our impure bloodlines. So our ancestors reached an agreement. The creation of a city, a peaceful paradise in which all would be provided for us to live as we wished for generations. A Sanctuary.
What they neglected to tell us or what our ancestors were too foolish to realize, was that Sanctuary was hardly morethan a prison and, even worse, a breeding farm in which they used their cruel Trials to create super soldiers they could send against the humans still resisting their rule in this world. They took my partner for that task after he betrayed me over two thousand years ago. Now, they’ve taken yours as well. And countless others. They’ve built an army against the humans and the ingenious weapons the original inhabitants of this world have managed to create against them. And, when they tired of providing for Sanctuary as they swore they would, they created the Underground. They made our people slaves. And they used the Culling to fill the ranks of servitude sitting beneath our home.
For a long time, the Geist still posed a threat to Sanctuary. Mostly, they ignored the self-run city, focusing instead on the human cities still figuring out a way to defend against them, chasing down every Fallen they could find and worrying about those they could not. But it was only a matter of time until Deimos' attention returned to the habitat of those with half the blood of his enemies. Whispers arose in the city of the gods, claims that Deimos was considering going back on his deal with our ancestors. There were soldiers to be harvested from the city, resources to take, servants to be captured, all defenseless, all believing he was a god. Sanctuary was ripe for plunder. But, before he could make a move against it, could throw away a treaty over a thousand years old,someonestopped him."
She gave a pointed glance to Gryfon whose jaw clenched as he glared at her. My lips parted in surprise at her insinuation. Gryfon had somehow stopped the Lord of the Geist from invading Sanctuary?
"This someone sacrificed a great deal to ensure Deimos and all of his ilk could never set foot in Sanctuary. It was intended to be a city for our people and our people only. To this day, they're unable to enter the city. So they won't touch your family, theycan't. That doesn’t mean, of course, they won’t find some way to affect them if it means getting to you.”
