She thrashed between them, loosening the last pieces of her armor, which fell to the floor in a heap. Now all that remained were the thin binding wraps around her chest, her tattered reed skirt, and the black soot that dusted her legs and smeared over her arms. One of the centurions stepped on her armor as he tried to pull her toward them, but he slipped and crashed to his knees.
With a wail, she lunged at him, but not before the other centurion landed a kick to her gut.
Ash toppled with a dry gasp. The other soldier rose and grabbed her hair. Madoc stepped forward, unsure what he planned to do or say. He could still see her eyes, burning up at him from the ground in hate and fear. He could see her on her knees bowing to her god. It didn’t matter why she was fighting now, or if she’d won or lost. She was hurting, and he could feel it searing through his skin like hot coals.
“Let go of her.”
Madoc turned. Ilena was standing just behind him, her hands twitching at her sides.
“Stay out of this!” snapped one of the soldiers. “This one’s liable to burn you to the ground if she gets near an open flame.”
“She’s just a girl,” Ilena argued weakly.
“She’s notyourgirl,” said Seneca, and Madoc’s panic rose higher in his throat.
Ilena’s face tightened.
“I’ll meet you at the carriage,” Madoc said, passing Elias the bag of gold.
“Madoc,” Elias warned.
Madoc knew staying behind was unwise; he didn’t need Elias to tell him so.
A scowling Elias took Ilena by the elbow and turned her toward the exit. “Come on, Seneca,” he said when the old woman made no motion to follow.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Madoc told her. The old woman grunted, then followed the other two toward the door.
Madoc turned back to Ash and the two centurions.
He needed to leave. Get in the carriage with the others. Driveaway from this place and focus on bringing Cassia home. He was already risking trouble in too many ways.
But it didn’t make sense that Ash was being escorted by Deiman centurions. The Kulans were supposed to enter and leave through the east gate.
Ash cried out again, a guttural howl that shook him to the bones, and the centurion jerked her upright. Before she could react, two spears were pointed at her throat.
Madoc’s hesitation evaporated. His vision tinged red.
“What’s all this about?” he asked, trying to play calm.
“Stay back,” one centurion said. “This is arena business.”
“That’s why I’m here,” said Madoc. “Getting a look at the competition. What happened?”
“She wouldn’t clear the sand for the next match,” said the far centurion between hard breaths. “Wouldn’t let go of the body.”
Madoc’s stomach sank. She’d killed her opponent in a trial? They weren’t meant to be to the death, but that didn’t mean fights couldn’t sometimes go too far.
He needed to back away. If they were restraining Ash, they must have had good reason.
But there was something off about her. A slippery, hot pain sliding across the space between them like a vat of spilled oil. He could feel it wash over his feet and slide up his legs. It coated his chest and throat.
For as long as he could remember, he’d been able to sense what others felt. He hadn’t realized it was odd until he’d come to live with the Metaxas, and Elias had caught on to it.Pigstock geoeia, he’d called it—a sense that wasn’t ordinary but could hardly be called earthdivinity. Madoc had assumed he was right. People were different, after all, and sometimes divinity manifested in strange ways. A healer in Kyphus claimed he could hear the ore in a Divine person’s blood. One of the priests at the temple could move only sandstone with his geoeia. Madoc’s ability was odd, but his father was Earth Divine, and variations in power were not unheard of.
Besides, pigstock geoeia had its uses. Madoc could read the mood of the baker at the market. If he was feeling generous, Elias would beg for the honey cakes that hadn’t sold at the end of the day. If he wasn’t, they would steal them.
He knew when Ilena had had a good day and when to tread lightly. How to quiet Ava when she had a bad dream. How to sense another fighter’s weakness.
But Ash’s pain was stronger than anything he’d felt before. He’d never sensed the emotions of someone who wasn’t Deiman—that must be why. Whatever the case, he didn’t like it.
