I look over my shoulder, unable to shake the feeling that the man with the missing ear on the platform is still watching us.
Waved forward after presenting our tickets, I shuffle Jude through the steel doors and onto the Diolkos.
“Toward the back—go on,” I say, feeling eyes with each passing compartment. I wonder if bystanders can help it or if they just intuitively sense they’re staring at a Player without realizing.
Finally, we settle into a small compartment with poorly cushioned seats and gray walls. My mind tugs back to the one-eared man’s gaze, and I find myself searching the window for it, not bothering to mention it to Jude, who’s been prattling on for the last ten minutes.
“—and if you’re going to hold me hostage, it’s just good manners to purchase nicer seats—”
“If you don’t shut up, I swear I will tie you to the roof where you can’t bother anyone.”
Jude raises one dark eyebrow at me. “Youswear? To do something we both know you won’t do? Getting awfully comfortable with language like that. That’s progress.”
I rub my temples. “What will it take to get some silence?”
“Well, for one, I’m starving.”
I pull open the pack ofgiftshe stole from that family and throw a piece of stale bread at him, praying it shuts him up.
“Players don’t need food much, Alistaire.”
My head is pounding now. “Fine. Whatdoyou need?” I ask, exasperated.
“Attention.” He pouts at me.
I groan and drop my face into my hands.
The Diolkos jolts into motion, the station rolling by us as we begin our trek west. I make a point of ignoring Jude and watch the window, still looking for the one-eared man.
“They won’t take you back, you know,” he says after a little while.
I cast him a side-eye. “The Playhouse?”
“No, the Playhouse would if you play your cards right.” His eyes drop to the place where my mark used to be. “The North, though. They’ll never take you back with a ruined mark.”
A lump gathers at the base of my throat where that ruined mark is.
“They will,” I say and try to believe it, “when I stop whatever horrifying spectacle you’re planning. The Great Dionysia isn’t happening.”
Something darkens in his expression. “Alistaire, neither you nor I can stop what’s going to happen at the Great Dionysia.”
I take that as all the confirmation I need. He’s plotting something. “We’ll see.”
As if a switch has been pulled, Jude’s face clears. His smile looks forced now. Cheerful but full of malice. “May I tell you a secret, Alistaire? From one soul to another.”
Jude shifts in his seat, as if trying to get comfortable with layers of chains binding his wrists behind him.
“I fear you and I are just the same,” he says. Appalled, I search his expression for a punch line as he continues. “Two sides of a shiny coin used to purchase terrible things.”
The Diolkos jolts again, and I grip the table between us to steady myself. “I don’t see how we’re similar at all.”
“You don’t? I do.” He leans forward and lowers his voice. “You can be a great many things, dear heart. But you cannot be fewer.”
Galen’s voice bursts through a door in my head.You laugh too much, Riven. You frown too much, Riven. You talk too much, Riven. Too loud, too angry, too much.
Even at my softest, I am too hard for most people.
For a moment, I wonder if Jude is, too.
