She braced, expecting him to reject her idea. “I could mention rumors I’ve heard. His worries are my worries, right? I’m one of his champions. I heard horrible rumors of someone who could weaken him. I have to know if it’s true, and who might slight my god.”
Tor’s consideration darkened. A long moment passed before he nodded.
“But I’ll be the one to ask him,” Tor added on a huff of breath.
Ash tensed. Ignitus was muttering something no doubt contentious as Geoxus slapped him good-naturedly on the shoulder.
No, she wanted to argue.Let me. I should do it—I cannot lose you too.
The crowd in the stands cheered as the announcer described the victories of Jann of Arsia. Hawkers sold wine and food, shouting their prices as they walked the rows of seats. Even the Kulan champions behind Ash were jovial, snatching wine flasks from a table in the viewing box.
But Tor set off, focused, crossing the few paces of marble to the railing where Ignitus stood with Geoxus. The Deiman champions remained in that perfect row on the center stage, their backs to an assortment of Geoxus’s highest ranking officials.
The announcer moved on. “And, finally, mighty Stavos of Xiphos, who, despite the fire god’s meddling, snatched victory from the burning flames of treason!”
Rook cut along behind Tor. Ash stumbled, her body jolting to keep up with them both. Her heart now raced so hard, she could barely fill her lungs against the incessant pounding.
By the time they reached Ignitus, she felt as if her throat had swollen shut, and all she could see was the broadsword sticking out of Char’s chest.
“Great Ignitus,” Tor started. “If I may request an audience?”
Ignitus took a sip of his wine and scowled. “This tastes like vinegar,” he snapped.
Geoxus, in turn, downed a whole glass. “Really? I imported it special from Kula.”
Ignitus’s face flared red.
“Great Ignitus,” Tor said again, louder. “If I—”
“What?” A flash of blue fire lit on Ignitus’s arms.
Ash lurched, wanting to beg Tor to stop. She was wrong, she had misheard Hydra—
“A moment of your time, Great Ignitus,” Tor said. “In private, please.”
Geoxus chuckled. “Go—quell your champion’s nerves about the war.”
Ignitus shifted. A look of calculation passed over his face, and he smiled. “You misread their intention in coming over. Allow me to properly introduce you, brother, to Ash Nikau.”
Ash choked. But Ignitus’s smile was full and rich now.
Tor shot in front of Ash, his back to her. “My god Ignitus, I—”
“Ash is my newest fighter,” Ignitus said. “She was extensively trained by my late gladiator, and it was Ash who took action to stop your gladiator from using his poisoned blade.”
Geoxus assessed her face, her neck; lower, lower. Wrinkles at the edges of his eyes dug deeper, and that detail settled oddly in Ash’s mind.
Ignitus didn’t have wrinkles by his eyes. It was a sign of age, too mortal for a god.
But Geoxus snapped his gaze back to Ignitus and yanked Ash’s focus away. “There was no poisoned blade. It is tragic that you have forced this child to be a champion merely to support your made-up claims of sabotage.”
Ignitus darkened. “Nikau comes from a line of my most elite fighters. She may be young, but you yourself wasted a champion slot on an untrained street rat.”
He batted his hand at Madoc, far below and oblivious.
For the first time, Geoxus lost his composure long enough to scowl. “Thatstreet ratcame from my most trusted sponsor—he’s brought me nine war-winning champions, you know. Another of my advisers assures me that he will heap victories at my feet. He’s straight from the slums of Crixion. Quite wild, brother. Untamed. He’ll tear the limbs from your young champion.”
Ash’s fingers were in such tight fists that she felt her nails puncture her palms.
