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I am dressed in my armor for the procession down into the city, patches of shining scale that leave much of my skin bare and catch the sunlight, along with vambraces on my arms.

My fellow gladiators walk in a motley crowd rather than in neat rows.

We are not soldiers, unlike those who guard us on the way.

The procession for the first day of the games is always a big occasion.

For many of the new gladiators, this is the first time they have been out of their fortress prison since they were first brought to Ironhold.

Even most of the more experienced ones will have been kept within its confines since the last games.

Only those with sponsors are allowed out, and only then to visit the nobles who have paid for the privilege.

Our route winds down into Aetheria, twisting and turning away from the black granite of the fortress and towards the white marble buildings of the city.

It is a route that takes us first through the slums beyond the walls, then through into the wealthier areas.

The crowds have come out in force to watch us as we head down towards the heart of Aetheria.

Young and old, rich and poor, they're all there.

We remain the greatest spectacle in the city, especially on this first day when the beasts for the games are being brought along with us.

Creatures are carried in cages on carts or dragged along while trainers control them with chains.

I think about how easy it would be to take control of those creatures now that I have my powers back.

How easy it would be to set them on the soldiers around us so that all of the gladiators could escape at once.

But that is not Lady Elara’s plan, she wants to wait until later in the games, and it would do nothing to save Alaric.

He is not here, and in some ways that is more heartbreaking than the rest of it.

He was to have been free by now.

If he had come through the last games successfully rather than being dragged away to a cell, he would have been a free noble by now.

He might even have been standing in this crowd to watch.

But my thoughts of him are of the way he would always drink in the adulation of the crowd, playing up to them, waving and performing for them as he walked.

Not like Rowan, who continues to do his best to ignore the crowd, treating this whole occasion as something to get through rather than something to fully participate in.

I wave and smile because I have been told by Lady Elara that it is vital for the crowd to love me.

I know her plan is to use me to be the spark for her rebellion, but now Rowan's words are swimming around in my head.

What if her rebellion does succeed? Will she free everyone, or will she just rampage through the city then set herself on the throne? She is a beast whisperer yes, but she is also a noble woman, and her plan seems to call just for the replacement of the emperor.

Things might improve for my fellow beast whisperers but it seems that the rest of Aetherian society will stay the same, or even suffer more, if she really does want revenge.

Maybe I'm doing her a disservice though, and not knowing it makes the decision I have to make that much harder.

Around us the crowds cheer, calling out our names, with different groups of fans competing to shout their favored gladiator’s name the loudest.

“Lyra! Lyra! Lyra!”

Mine rings out among the rest. No, it is louder than the rest now. The other gladiators who might have been as popular are gone. Vex, who treated all the adulation as simply his birthright, has finished his time in the games. Alaric is imprisoned. Ravenna, who seemed ready to seduce half the crowd, is dead. So many gladiators are dead. I am left as the most popular of the ones still in the games. No wonder the emperor wishes to use me and keep me there.

There are other names being called. A few shout for Rowan, mostly young women who seem eager to catch his eye, not that it does much good. But there are people calling for gladiators who are newer to the games than I am. A few call Cesca’s name, and she seems to sway and dance before them, as if remembering the way that Ravenna used to attract attention.

“Death to the emperor!”

someone calls out. A couple of guards plunge into the crowd, but whoever shouted it is lost among the rest of them. The rest of the crowd backs away in fear as they barge forward, as if suspecting that anyone unlucky enough to get in their way will earn themselves a beating.

The signs of unrest I saw before are mostly gone, but it's hard to disguise the burnt out houses. They have been decorated instead, festooned with banners and decorations along with the rest of the streets, as if the sheer exuberance of the occasion can outweigh the violence lurking beneath.

The city stands in contrast to the way it looked the other day. Now everything is decorated and bright, while magic uses illusion to show us images of ourselves in our fights. I appear in several such images now, shining out above the crowd.

Aya glares at me as I walk, obviously mentally preparing herself for the fight we're going to have. She wanders closer.

“I'm going to crush you today,”

she says to me. “They're going to see me destroy you, and then all this fame that you've claimed for yourself is going to be mine.”

“I wouldn't wish for it too much,”

I say, giving her a serious look. “Do you want some noble deciding they want to be your patron? To be able to give you commands whenever they want?”

She shrugs. “Better that than being ignored. And no one will ignore me after I kill you.”

“You can achieve as much just by giving the crowd a good show,”

I point out. “The fights are just until one of us is incapacitated.”

“So squeamish, suddenly? The last I heard, you were all too happy to kill some of your opponents. And the crowd are going to get a show. I'm going to break you slowly.”

She seems so quick to make threats. I've done nothing to her, but in the colosseum, I don't need to have wronged her. It is enough that I stand between her and the glory she wants. Aya thinks that her life will be better if she is a well-known gladiator. I know I'm not going to be able to persuade her otherwise. All I can do is try to survive our bout.

The colosseum looms ahead. Every time I see it the grandeur of it sweeps me away. Even if it were not augmented with magic, it is still a massive structure, a circle of stone rising high above the city, with entrances set all around it and statues of famous gladiators set in niches so that an army of them seems to watch over the games.

The magic makes it more spectacular, with bursts of light and colored smoke flowing out to catch the attention of the crowd. Our procession heads up a main thoroughfare, flanked by statues, heading for the main gates that lead to the arena floor.

A wall of sound hits us as we walk in. As usual, the colosseum is packed. This is one of the few spaces where the ordinary citizens of Aetheria are crammed in alongside the nobles. Well, not completely alongside. The nobles still have their grand boxes, where servants attend to them, while the lower orders must push through the stands to find places to watch. Hawkers are already selling food, and the betting booths are doing a brisk trade.

The emperor is waiting in his box, sitting on his throne there and waiting for our arrival. Our procession comes to a halt before him, the gladiators raising their fists in salute to him.

He stands. “Once more, we stand at the beginning of a set of holy days for our city. Never forget that the blood spilled on these sands forms part of a sacred rite, which gives meaning to your deaths as you feed the stones of Aetheria.”

Are we supposed to be grateful that if we die, our magic will flow down into the stones from which magic pours out into the world?

I look around at the noble boxes. Lady Elara is in hers, but she is not the one who catches my eye. Alaric is sitting there in another, dressed in noble finery, although he is surrounded by guards, and I can still see the dampener on his wrist. He must have been taken from Ironhold last night. It seems the emperor is serious about giving him a fine life for as long as I am obedient.

The emperor's eyes sweep over our numbers. I can feel them locking onto me, a silent question in them. I still haven't given him an answer as to whether I will do everything he wishes. As to whether I will help him uncover those who plot against him.

It would be simpler to say no and just focus on fighting to keep Alaric alive, but the truth is that no one can win forever in the colosseum, and I cannot risk the emperor's anger. Maybe there is a way I can use this to my advantage but for now he has me caught. I must do what he requires, for my sake and for Alaric’s.

I bow my head to the emperor, and to everyone watching it must look just like a mark of respect but I know he will understand what I mean by it. I'm saying yes, I will do what he has asked me.

After all, I have no choice.