Page 6

They march me down into the city in chains the way they might have a prisoner, and the worst part is that I am almost used to such treatment by now. It has been done to me before, the chains used to make a spectacle of me, to show that I am weak compared to the power of the emperor, and that even the strongest gladiators of the arena can be controlled at his whim.

There are no crowds lining the streets as there would be on the days of the games, which means that I get to see people about their normal lives as I pass through the city, flanked by guards. Most of their lives are just ordinary. There are store holders calling out their wares, children running in the street, wives and servants at the markets.

And there are signs of unrest here and there. I see a couple of burnt-out houses with graffiti daubed on them condemning the empire. I see the spot where a man has been impaled, a sign around his neck proclaiming that he is a traitor. Even as I pass with the guards, I see a couple of men pausing as they beat someone in an alleyway, turning and running at the sight of the imperial soldiers.

Aetheria feels as lawless now as it is beautiful, although that beauty is mostly confined to the richer areas, with their statues and their white marble houses, their liberal use of magic to decorate their homes. Since this is not one of the holy days on which the games operate in the colosseum, there are not the usual depictions of the favored gladiators slaying their enemies. Instead, houses are adorned with elaborate symbols that reflect each family's lineages and magical prowess.

People recognize me as the guards march me through the streets. They know my face in the way that they might not know those of half the nobles in Aetheria. My face is one that has been displayed in those magical images, showing my moments of victory. I have fought for their entertainment, they have cheered and booed me.

They stare at me now. Some of them look on with fear or distaste, but more of them look at me with awe, or with love. I see a small child standing with her mother, pointing my way and jumping up and down excitedly.

Some of them look confused by my chains, as if wondering what it is I've done to deserve this. They still don't understand that I don't need to have done anything. The emperor can do this to me at any time, even if this instance was sparked by me failing to follow his commands.

Fear rises in me at that thought, at the question of what he might command to be done to me for disobeying.

I can feel the eyes of the crowd on me as we move through into progressively more expensive neighborhoods. There are no signs of destruction or unrest here. This is not the part of the city where people starve, or must fight for every scrap.

The imperial palace lies ahead. It is grand in a way that makes it clear it was designed primarily to exert the authority of the empire to every glance, to show anyone looking that this is the heart of the empire, and thus the world.

Every step towards it is a step closer to punishment for me.

Mighty columns hold up its roof. Gilded statues line the way to its doors. Beyond the walls surrounding it, there are gardens, tended with care by gardeners who have magical talents suited to it. I see one reshaping a tree with a touch, another coaxing a dying plant back into life with healing magic.

The symbol of the empire is everywhere: a sword bursting through a purple corona of magical power. It is carved into the stonework, displayed on banners. It is a reminder of both the military might of the empire and the magical power on which the emperors’ claims to the throne of Aetheria rest. We gladiators are also an embodiment of that power, but are treated with far less honor.

The guards lead me to the palace, taking me through the magnificent gardens tended by gardeners whose magic keeps the flowers healthy and blooming. There are creatures here, ranging from butterflies larger than my head to unicorns prancing on one of the lawns and razor-clawed cats kept in a cage. It is the kind of place that displays the power and wealth of the emperor because no one else could afford to keep such things so close to him. His menagerie displays creatures from across the empire, but also chimeras created by magic, showing both the reach of the Aetherian Empire and the power that flows up from beneath the city.

My heart is beating faster with every step. The emperor is waiting for me in a receiving room that appears to be open to the garden, but a faint shimmer in the air makes it clear that it is not. He is a lean man in his fifties, his dark hair thinning, his eyes a strange purple that seems to reflect the color of the robes he wears as he stands at a table, looking over a map.

Without the grandeur of his surroundings, he would look ordinary, but he is anything but that. He has all the power of his position, but also deadly, powerful magic.

The emperor waves a hand almost casually and the faint shimmer in the air fades for a moment or two. Long enough at least for the guards to push me through, standing between them in the receiving room before the emperor.

I remember just in time that I meant to kneel in the presence of the emperor, so I fall to my knees, waiting for him to react to my presence.

“That will be all,”

he says to the guards.

They leave, and I'm alone with the emperor. That is a thought that does nothing to quell the sense of fear rising in me. He still doesn't look at me. He has a gilded throne set so he can look out over the garden but he's not sitting in it for now. He's still busy looking over the maps at the table.

“Come here,”

he commands.

I stand and join him at the table. I'm surprised by the casualness of it, when I have been brought here in chains. Those chains are still around my wrists, so that even if the emperor is being briefly friendly, I cannot forget my situation.

“What do you see?”

he asks, gesturing to the maps.

I stare down at them. The central one is a map of the city, but there are others around it, showing different parts of the empire. There is a large map of the empire as a whole at one side. It is such a small thing to represent such a vast space.

“I see the empire,”

I say, not understanding.

“Do you know what I see when I look at this?”

the emperor asks.

“No, my emperor,”

I reply. I understand that there is some purpose to bringing me here, some point to all of this, but I cannot see it.

“I see a complex web of things fitting together. I see a whole system designed to make this city the greatest one in the world. Goods and people flow in from places so far off you will not even have heard of them, and yet those places belong to me. In theory I have power over more of the world than any other man who has ever lived, because my army has done its job and expanded the borders. And yet there is only one map here that matters.”

“The map of the city?” I guess.

He looks my way for an extended period for the first time. “Exactly. Everything else is for the benefit of Aetheria. And yet, it is here that we have problems. If you are here, it's because you tried to see Alaric Blackthorn, correct?”

There is no point in denying it. “Yes.”

“The young nobleman who killed someone to save you. He must care deeply about you.”

The emperor looks me up and down. “If he weren't willing to give up his life for you I'd assume that he just wants your body, but a noble man can buy a dozen such as you at any market.”

He throws the insult my way casually. I do my best not to react to it. The emperor seems to delight in small cruelties, reminding me whenever he can that I am not a citizen and that I am not free.

“So, he must care for you. And do you care for him, Lyra?”

I hesitate, not because I'm unsure about my feelings about Alaric, but because I'm unsure what the outcome will be if I admit them to the emperor. I realize, however, that I have no choice. This is my one chance to save Alaric’s life. I am in front of the one person who has the power to intercede on his behalf. The emperor can snap his fingers, and a dozen guards will leap to free Alaric.

“I do,” I admit.

“And yet you don't seem to be pleading for his life.”

“Please, my emperor, let him live. He only acted to defend me against an assassin you sent me back to face.”

“It hardly sounds like pleading when you're blaming me,”

Emperor Tiberius says. “Perhaps you aren't serious about saving his life.”

I hate that he's toying with me like this, seeing what I will and won't do to try to save Alaric from his fate.

“Please,”

I beg. “Just let him live. I'll do anything you want.”

I know only too well what “anything”

could entail. He could make me fight for him or kill for him. He could command me to his bed. He could send me against his enemies. The possibilities are terrifying, but if it will keep Alaric safe, I will do anything that is required.

The emperor shrugs. “But you are a slave, and I am the emperor. You will do anything I want anyway. I hold your life in my hands as easily as his. I could give you a command and you would have to follow it whatever it was. Shall I think of something for you to do to prove it?”

It is all too easy to think of the many ways the emperor might prove the difference in our positions to me. He could have me flayed alive on a whim. He could command me to his bed. He could set me to some menial task and leave me doing it for hours. He is no longer my patron, but he is still in a position of authority over me.

At least for now. It occurs to me that another season of games in the colosseum is coming up and if I survive it, I will be free. I will be a free citizen of Aetheria, a noble, and the emperor will not be able to command as much from me. I will have rights as well as just duties.

I'm starting to see the shape of what's happening here. I think I understand some of the game the emperor is playing.

“You want something,” I say.

The emperor's eyes narrow, with a flicker of anger. “Do not presume to know my mind.”

But I think I do when it comes to this. I think I understand why all of this is happening the way it is.

“You intervened personally to make sure that Alaric would be given a sentence of execution,”

I say, “but it wasn't carried out immediately, and it could have been. It would have been with most other people.”

“He is noble born, and an example must be made.”

“But if that were enough to change things, he wouldn't be executed at all,”

I say. “Instead, you've made sure that the threat of death is hanging over him. Hanging over someone you know I care about.”

I'm starting to see why Alaric has said in the past that it is dangerous to be seen to care about anyone in Ironhold. That there is always someone trying to use it against us. I just never dreamed that it would be the emperor.

The emperor smiles. “If you've worked out that much, then surely you've worked out enough to know that you should be on your knees, begging to do what I wish.”

He stares at me, and I know he's serious. I fall to my knees again, staring up at him and pleading as best I can.

“Please, please spare Alaric. I know you have something you want me to do and whatever it is I will do it if you will only let him live. Please just don't execute him. Let him go.”

“There. I knew you could beg properly if you tried.”

He looks pleased with himself as he gestures to the map. “As I said before, the problem is Aetheria. Specifically how unruly it has become. It seems that there are disturbances almost every day now. I want you to help with that, Lyra.”

“Help how?” I ask.

“You are the favorite gladiator of the people at the moment,”

the emperor says. “Your presence in the games entertains them and keeps them from rising up. But you will only be there for one more set of games. We can't have that.”

“You want… you want me to keep fighting?” I say.

The emperor nods. “Exactly. You will fight in the Colosseum until I decide that you have done enough. You will keep fighting in it past your five seasons. When you do so, you will entertain the crowd, and you will kill when I command it. You will give them reasons to be pacified and docile. If you do that, Alaric Blackthorn will live. As long as you keep living and fighting, he will live a life of luxury here within my own palace. If you fail me, I will enact his sentence.”

I realize the trap the emperor has laid for me and worse, just how little choice I have in the matter. Or rather, I have a choice, but it is not one I am willing to make. I could ignore this offer, could get through my five seasons and leave, but only if I'm willing to sacrifice Alaric’s life. To watch him executed at the conclusion of this season. I'm not. Which means I have only one option.

I bow my head. “I will do what you require.”

The emperor smiles. “I know you will. Oh, and one more thing…”

“Yes, my emperor?”

“It’s obvious now that you have more of a connection to the groups acting against me than I believed.”

“I don't understand,” I say.

“Do not lie to me,”

the emperor snaps. “It's clearly not a coincidence that your latest sponsor was slain by creatures. Only a beast whisperer could do that, and you are hardly one of those anymore.”

He still believes that my dampener prevents me from using any of my powers. I look at him, not saying anything.

“As it happens, I don't believe that Lady Emin is that great a loss. She was a plotter in her own way, the same as her daughter. When I allowed her to be your sponsor, I assumed that either she would be grateful for the chance to crush you, or something like this would happen. I've benefited either way. In this case because your beast whisperer friends have shown their hand.”

“I don't have any beast whisperer friends,”

I lie. I cannot let him find out about Lady Elara and her plans.

The emperor gives me a stern look. “I told you not to lie to me. And I hope that for your sake it is a lie. You have a connection to them. I suppose I could have you tortured to find out everything, but it is easier to just use you, now that I have Alaric Blackthorn. You have a connection. You will use that connection. You will help me to crush them. If you do that… then I might be inclined to free both you and Alaric.”

I kneel there, shocked by what he's suggesting. He wants me to betray Lady Elara, the spectral covenant, and everyone working with them.

“But you don't have to reply to that one at once,”

the emperor says. “Take the time to think it over. Realize the reality of your position. If I get bored with you taking too long, then I can always have you tortured after all. Now go, and remember that even if I'm not your patron anymore, I own you.”