Would they let her pass, even with a Deiman champion?
They reached the entrance. Madoc started out into the hall, Ash just behind him.
A guard cut a hand over Ash’s chest. “No Kulans are to leave.”
Madoc drew back. A pause, and his face melted into a cocky smirk. “She’s with me,” he said, reaching up to twirl a lock of Ash’s hair around his finger.
Her mind went utterly blank. She couldn’t even play into the ruse.
The guard smiled slickly at Madoc. “Be quick about it.”
Before anyone else could protest, Madoc grabbed Ash’s hand and yanked her through the door. The moment they were in the hall, he dropped his hold on her, scraping his fingers on his thigh as though she’d burned him.
Her own hand sizzled and sparked. She fought the urge to wipe it off too.
“The stables are this way,” Madoc said and started walking to the right.
Ash’s eyes lifted. Madoc was the only other person in this towering hall. And they were going to the stables, to leave the palace.
She hadn’t connected that part of what they were doing. A childish wish blossomed inside her, to justrun.
Ash looked to the left, the empty hall stretching on, a beckoning hand she wanted so badly to reach out for. The temptation would be even worse once they were in a carriage, wheels clacking through silent, empty streets.
“Are you all right?”
She spun to Madoc. Behind his wariness, there was honest concern on his face.
“You haven’t been a gladiator very long, have you?” Ash swallowed the waver in her voice.
Madoc resumed walking. Ash followed a step behind, so he had to turn slightly to see her.
“A few months,” he said. “Why?”
“You’re still...” Ash hesitated. Madoc glanced back, and she dropped her gaze. “A decent person.”
He snorted. “If that were true, I wouldn’t be here.” He angled them down a set of stairs. “Elias and I started fighting to earn money. It sort of got away from us.”
“Elias?”
“My brother—my attendant now, I guess.”
Ash tipped her head. Was his brother part of whatever task Madoc had been sent to fulfill? “You were fighting. How? With your fists?”
She watched the muscles in Madoc’s shoulders tense all the way up his neck. “It’s complicated. We need money to get my sister released from servitude. The man who has her—” The words seemed to choke him, and he shook his head. “It was a mistake,” he finished.
Confusion rendered Ash momentarily silent. That was Madoc’s cover for being in this war? That he was trying to free his sister? It was such a simple, personal reason, and it had nothing to do with the actual war itself.
None of this information made anything about Madoc clearer.
They came to a door. Madoc pushed it open, depositing them in a wide yard lit by a high, round moon. The air hung heavy with sweet hay and dust, ripe with the first bitter twist of colder nights. To the left sat a grand marble-and-brick stable. Carriages and horses stuffed itnow, a few stable hands rustling around, keeping their masters’ transports ready for whenever they deigned to leave the ball. The gates of the stable yard sat open on the right, with two centurions standing guard, leaning on spears and idly chatting in the easy assignment.
There was igneia in the stables. Ash could see it flickering in lanterns. She breathed easier seeing it so much more available. Had Madoc noticed the flames?
“And you think this war will free your sister?” Ash managed. “Is she Earth Divine?”
Is she descended from another god, like you? Which god?
What are you really fighting for?
