Thankfully, gorgon poison is treatable if you get to a healer soon enough. When I stumbled in, refusing to allow Tiernon to carry me, Axia took one look at me and shook her head.
"Why am I not surprised?"
Tiernon's blood healed the rest of my cuts and bruises. Later, I can worry about my likelihood of becoming a blood addict, but now, I'm in bed in Tiernon's quarters, Evren and Gerith curled up beside me.
I made sure everyone knew Jorah saved my life, and when I left the healers, he was retelling his story to Maeva, a wide grin on his face.
"The griffon shield kept us alive," I murmur, and Tiernon sends me a sharp look from across the room.
"Do you want to discuss that now?"
Gerith sneers at him, opening his mouth, and I hold up a hand.
"Tiernon, my brothers have been impacted by this since the moment Bran showed up at our door. They're old enough now to know the truth and to understand the risks. I can't keep them safe by hiding things from them."
It's taken me a while to understand this, but I get it now. Evren sends me an appreciative look while Ger reaches out and squeezes my hand.
"A griffon shield?" he asks, and I fill them in.
"Wow." Ev's brow wrinkles. "I've never heard of something like that."
My eyes meet Tiernon's. "Rorrik was right. I had no control over the shield. I could only hold it for moments. If anyone else had seen it …" My voice trails off. Jorah saw it. But this, I know, he'll keep to himself.
"He's also right about something else. I need to learn how to use it," I say. "If I'd been able to use water, the way I did that day when Rorrik was here, I could have avoided Albion's knife."
A muscle jumps in Tiernon's cheek at the mention of the knife. "If you'd already shielded, it's likely you couldn't have summoned water. Not without more training."
"So I need to train. I don't know why my power is working this way, but I can't hide from it any longer. Will you help me?"
He gives me a look. "You know I will."
"Will we leave Senthara now?" Evren asks. "Are we going to go north?"
"No. I'm sorry, Ev."
Tiernon lifts a brow and I know he's wondering how far my newfound transparency will go.
"I have to kill the emperor before we can leave this place."
Gerith goes white. Slowly, he rolls off the bed, getting to his feet. "That's impossible."
I sigh. "It's not impossible. He's not immortal. But it is very, very difficult."
Ger throws up his hands. "You were just nearly killed by a guardant!"
Tiernon grins at me. "How's that candor working out?"
I poke my tongue out at him and his eyes darken.
My neck begins to burn, as if my bond with Bran is waking at the reminder of my task. The dull itching spreads through my hands, and I attempt to ignore it.
The urges aren't mine.
They're Bran's.
And I won't let his bond make me throw away my life.
"I'm more concerned about Mortuus," Evren says, suddenly sounding more mature than I've ever heard him. "You said you heard his voice in your head."
I want to dismiss the voice as my imagination, but that would be a lie.
"Yes. Twice."
"I've never heard of him being able to communicate before. Even to his followers. Did you know there has been an entire sect dedicated to freeing Mortuus for decades now?"
Gerith, Tiernon, and I stare at him.
"What?" he asks. "You know I read a lot."
A knock sounds on the door, and Gerith opens it.
"I've been released," Maeva announces. "Just in time for our presentation."
Novice presentation. I'd almost forgotten. After each Sundering, the royal family chooses which novices will be forced to shadow them for the next year.
"You shouldn't be going anywhere."
"Relax, Arvelle. I can walk again now. In fact, I'm pretty sure it was the Primus's blood that hurried the healing along." She gives Tiernon a smile and he gives her a grim nod back.
What's wrong with him? she mouths at me.
"He's still annoyed that I went after Albion alone," I whisper back.
Tiernon glowers at us. "I can hear you."
I valiantly hide a smirk. "Maeva. This is Gerith, and this is Evren."
She beams at them, and Gerith grins back at her. Evren gives her a somber nod, likely still preoccupied with thoughts of Mortuus.
"I've heard so much about you." When Maeva takes a seat on the bed, I narrow my eyes at her.
"I thought we could go to the presentation together. Besides, I've never been in the imperius quarters before."
I nod at the love bite beneath her ear. "Uh-huh."
Maeva's face turns even redder than the mark Neris left behind and I grin, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. Since Tiernon gave me his blood and Axia treated the gorgon poison, there's absolutely no need for me to be in bed anyway.
"Do you have to go?" Evren's voice is a low murmur, almost a whisper.
I meet Maeva's eyes and see the same dread I'm feeling.
"Yes," I say. "We do."
AN HOUR LATER, I trail after Calena as we climb the stairs into the stands.
She's tense, her face white—unsurprising considering the emperor is opening the presentation with his usual brand of entertainment.
By the time we novices slip into our seats of honor—just a few rows up from the sand of the arena—a group of Torvellens have begun walking into the arena through another gate.
Most of their skin tones are on the paler side, reflecting the cold climate of their kingdom. Both men and women wear their hair long and braided, the colored beads in their braids a symbol of the various mountain clans many of them belong to.
The Torvellens are chained together, marching as one, ensuring they don't trip.
And still, an enforcer cracks his aetherwhip.
The smallest woman flinches, letting out a low cry, and the men on either side of her turn toward the enforcer, their eyes lit with rage.
Another crack of the whip, and deep wounds open up across their cheeks.
More people enter the arena through the gate directly below us.
Their skin tones range from medium tan to deep brown, and most of the women have straight hair, tied back with beautifully embroidered Zevarian cloth bands, although many of those bands are now faded and filthy from their time in captivity.
Zevaris and Torvellen are two kingdoms the emperor considers enemies of the empire. Over the past few decades, he has chipped away at their kingdoms. And still, they fight for every inch of their territories.
Maeva sits next to me, her face white. "I've heard rumors of the queens of Torvellen and Zevaris allying," she whispers.
"That explains what's about to happen." I nod at the enforcer currently walking down the row of Zevarians, handing them each a sword. A woman immediately slashes out at the enforcer, and the one with the aetherwhip cracks it, driving her to her knees.
On the other side of the arena, an enforcer is arming the Torvellens. He gestures, and they step forward, facing the Zevarian group. Tears are rolling down the face of one of the Torvellen men as he stares at the Zevarian woman in front of him.
My sigil burns. Rage pours through me, no longer able to be contained.
"Arvelle," Maeva whispers. "Don't. It's not time."
I know she's right. But I can't watch this anymore. I refuse.
Something soars above us. The world turns upside down. Pain explodes across the back of my head, shooting down my neck and through my spine.
When I open my eyes, I'm lying between stone benches, Maeva slumped next to me.
I don't … I don't understand.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
"We're under attack!" someone roars, their voice bellowing across the arena. "Protect the emperor!"
I peer up toward the top of the arena. Where the Praesidium guards should be posted in the guard towers along the upper level, rebel vampires are crouched in their places, crossbows in their hands. Somehow, they made it through the arena's ward and waited, invisible.
One of them strides high above our section, and there's something familiar about the way he moves …
Understanding crashes through me. It's the vampire from the Circus. The one who escaped.
BOOM!
An entire section of the arena explodes directly across from us, and I cover my head as chunks of marble and dust hurtle through the air. When the dust clears, thousands of people are gone, nothing left but smoke and rubble.
"Aether bombs," Briona screams behind us. "Get down!"
My face is numb, my body slow, sluggish.
I don't have time to be in shock. And yet I can't seem to think.
The entire arena shudders, and I'm suddenly excruciatingly aware of the maginari two levels beneath us.
If it collapses, all of them are dead. Some of them might wish for that end over the emperor's arena, but …
My mind sharpens, and I roll to the side, checking Maeva for injuries. Blood drips from her neck, the scrape deep but not life-threatening. "I'm fine," she says. "You?"
"Fine." I stagger to my feet, dragging her with me. "We need to get out of here."
On the sand, the Torvellens and Zevarians are working together against the enforcers. The Zevarians have gone for the enforcer with the key to their chains, while the Torvellens handle the one with the aetherwhip.
Spectators bolt frantically for the nearest exits. Those who are stupid enough to enter the arena are immediately cut down by furious, rampaging Torvellens. I can't blame them for taking advantage.
We head toward the closest exit, and Kaeso lurches to his feet from beneath a bench. His eyes are wide and stunned. "What's happening?"
"They're targeting the emperor," Maeva says.
Triumph flashes through me, instantly swamped by terror. Blood rushes in my ears, until I can't grasp a single thought but one: Tiernon is with his father.
I can't see him from here, but the pulvinar is surrounded by guards, all of them shielding the emperor.
Aether bombs hit the pulvinar, one after the other, eating away at the shields.
The emperor is likely being smuggled out by now, along with his sons.
My heart rate slows, and I force myself to focus.