Tiernon will get out of here. The guards will drag the emperor's sons out if they have to. Meanwhile …
Commotion.
Distraction.
Chaos.
I catch hold of Maeva's wrist, yanking her to a stop. This is our best chance.
Kaeso's eyes are wild as he reaches for us, but the crowd surges forward and he's swept up, forced to keep moving.
BOOM!
Another aether bomb hits, this time above our heads. Huge chunks of marble fall from the seats above us.
Maeva hauls me down, and we crouch, covering our heads with our arms. My breathing turns shallow, my vision sharpening until all I can see is the woman just ten feet from us, in the path of the marble.
Raising her arms, she throws herself to the side. But it's too late.
The world seems to tilt, and I'm suddenly frozen, staring at the spot where the woman was just standing.
"Arvelle."
Maeva shakes me, and I force my gaze away, meeting her somber eyes.
The arena is still shaking, on the verge of collapse. I gesture at the stone beneath our feet. "We need to get the maginari out."
Realization flickers over her face, followed immediately by determination.
There's no way we can get to the exit on this level. We're going to have to drop down into the arena. I can't see any Zevarians or Torvellens on the sand. I hope they managed to escape.
Linking arms, we make our way back through the heaving mass of screaming, panicking people, to the edge of the arena.
It's a ten-foot drop, and I land in a crouch. Maeva drops gracefully beside me, and we whirl for the gate.
We reach the holding room within moments, and by the time we climb through the trapdoor, the screams and shrieks from the arena have turned muffled.
I may have been here once before, but Maeva has memorized the path. She sprints unerringly toward the maginari, never hesitating.
A distinct, rhythmic cadence sounds, and I freeze. Maeva slowly turns.
"The patrol." Her eyebrows lower. "They've sent the guard early to check the maginari are secure. That guard will have the key. We need to split up."
"No." The word is sharp, my refusal instant.
Maeva glances back toward the sound of footsteps, her eyes wide. "You've got to warn the maginari, Arvelle. Some of them are too injured and sick to move. They'll need help. Go tell them to prepare."
"I'll get the key."
"No." She's already moving. "You've talked to the maginari. They'll trust you. I won't be long."
I don't like it, but Maeva disappears into the darkness, and I force myself to keep moving.
The maginari explode into roars and screams when I appear at their cage. Even from down here, I can hear the dim but unmistakable sound of several explosions, one after the other.
Pholus steps forward, and the maginari go silent. "We're getting you out," I pant, leaning on the cage bars in an effort to catch my breath. The bars sting my fingers, and I instantly remove my hand. "You need to get ready to escape."
Linaros's hooves click against the stone as he approaches. "You have conditions."
"Yes. I want you to vow that you won't attack any innocent people here."
He lets out a bitter laugh. "No one is innocent."
"I know you can hear the carnage above us. But it won't be long before the emperor has control again. This is your chance for freedom."
Pholus angles his head, snapping his beak at Linaros. "I speak for all the maginari here. We accept your conditions and vow not to harm any who do not attempt to harm us."
"Deal."
Footsteps thud on stone, and my heart leaps into my throat.
"Do not worry," Pholus says. "This is the one who left to find the key."
Clearly, he heard Maeva and me earlier.
Maeva appears, flushed and covered with blood. I go still, and she shakes her head. It's not her blood.
Her hand trembles as she shoves the key into the lock. The cage doors slide open.
Linaros clomps forward, cupping Maeva's face with his huge hand. "You are brave," he says. "Thank you, daughter of Tharwyn."
She looks taken aback, and he smiles down at her. "Our god claims all who worship him."
Maeva worships the maginari's god?
She gives Linaros a trembling smile. When our eyes meet, her chin juts out, as if she feels the need to defend her choice. When I roll my eyes, her smile widens to a grin. "I know a way out."
"Tell me."
"A few weeks ago, I weakened the hinges of a gate leading out of the arena in the level above us." Maeva smiles at Linaros. "A few hits from you should do it."
Of course she did. "Is there anything you didn't think of?"
"How to lie to the emperor's guards when I was captured and interrogated."
My stomach churns. "I need to get back."
Her eyes widen. "Arvelle."
"You know I have to." Chaos is reigning. This is my best chance to kill the emperor. My brothers are in the ludus, which means I can take them and head north.
Maginari are streaming out of the cage. The gorgon bows her head at me, and I bow back, careful not to meet her eyes.
"Go," I tell Maeva. Surprising us both, I drag her close for a quick hug. "Be careful."
"You too."
Linaros steps through the cage door once more, this time with an unconscious harpy in his arms. He levels me with an intent stare. "You kept your word. I will not forget it."
THE SMELL HITS me first.
Smoke. Blood. Sweat. Fear.
The sharp, chemical scent of aether still lingers in the air, mixing with the sickly sweet scent of death.
Huge craters mar the arena floor, their jagged edges blackened and smoldering from aether bombs. The sand is stained dark with blood and scorched earth, creating a slurry that sucks at my boots.
Splintered wood, chunks of stone and marble, and the twisted remains of statues of Umbros are scattered across the sand.
And everywhere, everywhere I look, I see bodies.
Guards, vampire rebels, innocents caught in the cross fire.
Most lie motionless, already dead. Others writhe in pain, clutching at wounds.
Still more are horrifically burned, their flesh seared by aether explosions.
The scent of charred flesh mixes nauseatingly with the odor of burnt hair and fabric.
The pulvinar is engulfed in flames, the smoke thick and noxious. Pockets of vampires and guards still fight on the sand and up within what's left of the stone benches.
Several of those benches explode to my left, and panicked screams cut through the air. People are still trapped, still trying to flee, still searching for exits that haven't yet been blocked.
One of the vampire rebels lies sprawled next to the arena gate, a crossbow still in his arms. His head is almost entirely decapitated, just a sliver of flesh remaining.
Wiggling his crossbow free, I examine it closely. It's larger and sturdier than anything I've used before, reinforced with metal bands and adorned with intricate engravings that radiate power.
Instead of standard bolts, the crossbow is equipped with a cradle at the end of the drawstring, lined with soft material. I crouch, noting a canvas sack near the vampire's outstretched hand. Pulling it toward me, I peer inside.
Aether bombs.
Roughly the size of an apple or a small grapefruit, most of them are spherical, while a few have a slightly elongated shape. Heart pounding, hands trembling, I gently pull one free, my lungs aching as I hold my breath.
The outer shell is etched with runes that turn my fingertips numb. Placing the aether grenade in the cradle, I pull the lever, drawing back the string and locking the cradle into place with a satisfying click.
Movement across the arena. I jerk backward into the shadows, my heart in my throat.
Fifteen or twenty Praesidium guards are slowly inching away from the gate. Behind them, I catch a single glimpse of Vallius Corvus's furious face.
The vampires have somehow taken out his planned escape. Now, the emperor will have to cross through the open arena to get to another gate.
Dark satisfaction spreads through my body. For once he'll stand on blood-red sand, vulnerable and terrified.
Six guards step forward, raising their hands in unison. A ward begins to form. Their sigils glow …
One of the guards suddenly lets out a high-pitched shriek. Another slaps his hand against his forehead and leans over to vomit, while the guard next to him falls to her knees with a scream.
What … why …
I twist, scanning the arena, and my gaze finds Calena hidden behind an overturned bench, her face covered with blood. Her expression is twisted with rage, her silver sigil flaring bright. My ears begin ringing, my hands clutching the crossbow tighter.
She's preventing them from using their shields. I didn't even know such a thing was possible.
Comprehension washes over me in a rush. A sigilmarked rebel, working from within to help the vampires kill the emperor. Calena has to know the emperor will merely be replaced by yet another vampire, but …
The enemy of my enemy …
Bran got to her. My instincts had prickled the night of the ball when I saw him watching Calena with that considering expression. I warned her the day he murmured to her in the Hall of the Gods. But can I truly blame her for jumping at the chance to target Vallius Corvus?
No. Not when I can see true fear on the emperor's face for the first time. Delicious fear. Satisfaction floods my veins. Whatever he expected of the rebels, he never thought they'd be able to prevent his guards from using their power.
This is it. This is my chance.
A mammoth chunk of marble lies mere feet away, close enough to the stands that I can climb it. Slinging the crossbow over one shoulder, I haul myself up. The first row of the stands is several feet above my head.
I back as far as I can along what is left of the marble bench. Taking a deep breath, I sprint for the stands, launching myself into the air. My hand wraps around cool steel, and I strain with the effort of pulling myself up.
I knew I should have spent more time on those fucking ropes.
"Move, move, move," I chant, climbing up onto the nearest marble seat. If the emperor retreats from the arena, I won't get another chance.