Ferox came up beside them. “One of the Vestal Virgins. I saw it.”
Lea took an involuntary step back. The Vestal Virgins were the most revered priestesses in the city, with powers that rivaledthe emperor’s—one of which was the ability to free a slave with a single touch. “Did she…?”
Jason ran a jerky hand through his hair, causing a cascade of sand. “She said…something about the goddess. The goddess had—had spoken to her. And then she touched me…” His hand, trembling, rose to brush a spot on his chest.
Lea’s mouth dropped open. For a Vestal to be moved to exercise her power…that meant Jason had attracted the attention of one of the most powerful deities in their pantheon.
Why him?Jason wasn’t particularly pious at the best of times, and he’d shown no great devotion to Vesta.
“Penthesilea!” The official managing the archery contest snapped her name as he gathered the competitors.
Jason still looked utterly shaken, and she didn’t want to leave him, but Ferox stepped forward. “I’ll see to him. Go. And good luck.”
With one last look at the pair, she turned to join the other gladiators. The official inspected their bows and arrows, then lined them up at the entrance to the arena.
Music sounded, horns blasting above the thumping of drums. That was their cue.
Lea’s heart pounded as one by one, the female gladiators proceeded into the arena. Her palms were sweaty, and she surreptitiously wiped them on her tunic. A slippery grip would not help her shoot.
The crowd cheered, shouting the names of their favorite competitors. Lea heard her own name ringing out from several spots in the stands. It should have bolstered her confidence, but nerves still stormed within her.
In the center of the arena, a row of targets stood directly in front of the emperor’s seating area, so the ruler and his entourage had the best view of each shot.
Out of habit, Lea’s gaze flicked to the emperor’s box, searching for Kallias’s familiar figure.He’s not there, she reminded herself.
But then—she stopped short and blinked, squinting. No. Surely it couldn’t be. Her vision must be failing her again.
The woman behind her collided with her back. “Move,” she hissed.
Lea forced her feet into motion, muttering an apology. She didn’t take her eyes off the figure behind the emperor, and her foot caught on an uneven patch of sand. She stumbled, caught herself, then her gaze snapped back to him. She was closer now. Close enough to recognize him.
It was Kallias.What happened? How is he here?
Her fingers tightened spasmodically on the bow, knuckles straining as she gripped it. He must have been discovered, somehow, in the time since he’d left her yesterday.
A new rush of fear joined the preexisting riot of nerves. This was not good.
The announcer was saying something, introducing the rules of the tournament, but the words jumbled together in Lea’s mind.
Kallias was too far away to make eye contact with, but somehow, he seemed no different from the other times she’d seen him sitting just there, behind Gaius and Drusilla, his bearing upright but casual. Almost as if he’d never left.
His appearance was so disconcerting that for a moment she wondered if she’d hallucinated everything that had happenedsince her head injury. What if her addled mind had simply imagined his plan to leave?
In any case, he washeresomehow—outside in public, not imprisoned or otherwise incapacitated. And from what she could see, he appeared unharmed.
For the sake of the competition about to start, she had to fixate on those facts. He was in no immediate danger, and she couldn’t let her anxiety about his fate threaten her performance. The stakes were too high.
So she turned her back to Kallias, faced the target, and withdrew an arrow from her quiver. Her hands only shook a little as she notched it on the bowstring. Then, at the signal from the official, she let her first shot fly.
36
Anhourlater,onlyLea and Phoebe were left in the tournament. Lea had been shooting well, ruthlessly keeping her focus on the arrow and bowstring and target. Nothing else. One or two unlucky shots had fallen victim to an errant breeze, but she’d also scored several perfect strikes.
Next to her, Phoebe grinned ear to ear as she pulled out her next arrow. She was guaranteed either a spot on the Praetorian Guard or the first place prize of anything that was within the emperor’s power to grant.
They’d been neck and neck in this final match, but Lea now held a slight edge. Phoebe had two arrows left to shoot, and Lea had one. She was so close—but things had been getting more difficult as the competition progressed. Lea’s arm was shaking from the effort of pulling back the bowstring so many times, and her headache had returned with vicious force. The constant noise from the crowd wasn’t helping.
She was starting to think that if she won, what she’d ask of the emperor would be a long, hot bath in a dark, silent room.
