His words wash over me in waves. Briefly, I imagine Daddy sitting at his desk, swirling his drink, accepting my death like the first piece in his great game. It hits so hard and so deep that I realize it’s the only thing I have no defense against. I’ve built walls for every other threat. Everything but him. Then I remember who I’m speaking with.
“A clever lie,” I reply. “Like I’d ever believe one of their gods.”
The Dread smiles. “Am I? The Ashlords grow bold. They reach for the future. The Striving gives them whatever they please. They adore things that move or flash or buzz. The other deities are well attended, but my people neglect caution. Walk by my temple. Note the empty ramparts. My priests in this realm are few. But I assure you that it is not my intention to simply go away. I am not like the Veil. I will not lie down and die. I will not accept defeat.”
My mind races again.
The Dread continues. “I seek new worshippers. Whether you live or die, war is coming. Do you imagine your fight will be against the Ashlords alone? No. You will face all the power the gods can summon across the barriers and into this world. Surely you know this?”
I nod. “We are ready this time.”
The god’s face twists into a smile. “So your father thinks. Let me add my strength to yours. Let us see how ready you are, then.”
“In exchange for blood? Servitude? I haven’t come this far to bow to you.”
“Partnership,” the god corrects. “Between equals.”
That pulls a laugh up my throat. “I don’t trust you. None of our kind do.”
“Allow me to offer the first sign of faith between us. Your father has thrown you into the fire, Adrian. He did not accept my trade. So allow me to offer my protection freely.”
He unfurls his left hand. My grip on the knife tightens, but before I can do more than unlatch it from my belt, he blows powder from his palm. It flashes out like smoke and fills the room in less than a second. I hold my breath, but the substance coats my skin, tingles down my spine. I do everything except pinch my eyes shut. I don’t want to lose sight of him in the haze.
“Calm down,” the god says. “It is a boon. This will help you survive the Races.”
I wave my free hand to clear the air. It slowly starts to thin until I can see him again.
“What did you do to me? What is this?”
“Caution,” he answers simply. “You think they come to bruise and break you. You’re wrong, Adrian. They are coming to kill you. The blessing I just offered will bring swift healing. Sturdier bones. Less bleeding. It will keep you alive. You’re welcome.”
My eyes sharpen. “I didn’t ask for your boon. We have no agreement. Understand?”
“For now.” The god nods a concession. “But you’ll see the truth in a few nights. This is just a fraction of my magic. If you find it is useful, imagine what else might exist between us. I am a patient god, Adrian. You might not want me today. You may not even want me a year from now. But I will wait for that fateful day to arrive, because I know I’m your best chance of winning the war that’s coming.”
He starts to rise. Instinct brings my knife around. He’s already violated me. I have no idea if he’s telling the truth, or if the spell he’s put over me will ruin everything. I’m not about to risk a second mistake. The knife flicks from my hand and shivers through the air. My aim is true. It hits right where the beating heart of his priestly vessel should be. I’m expecting the tear of flesh, the spurt of blood.
Instead, the Dread vanishes. Like he was never there.
The smoke clears. I sit there staring, and it’s like I imagined the whole thing. My eyes turn back to the door. It’s closed. The windows are shut, too. It takes a while to steady my breathing and shake off the effects. I am not here to parley with gods. I am here to start a rebellion. I am here to change the face of the Empire.
I’m here because Daddy sent me.
A shiver runs down my spine. The Dread lied to me. Nothing but lies.
It takes a little muscle to pull the knife free from the upholstered chair. I go through my normal routine before dousing the lamps and crawling into bed. I pretend to be calm—just in case the gods are still watching—but inside, my heart hammers in my chest. It takes hours to finally fall asleep. I drowse with one hand under my pillow, tight around the grip of my knife.
When I finally sleep, I dream of the sea.
You planned every single detail to perfection.
And ever loyal, Bravos follows all of it step for step. The night of your tour through the Hall of Maps, he calls you from the mobile he has registered with the city. Your scripted conversation is brief. He says he didn’t want there to be any hard feelings. You say there aren’t any, that you’re too focused on the Races to feel anything else right now. He says that he misses you. You whisper a goodbye. It takes the hackers about five minutes to post the entire conversation onto the Chats.
You know gamblers and fans will devour every word and gossip with their friends about all the nothing. It has you smiling. Some things about Furia are just so remarkably predictable. Fifteen minutes later, you hear a chirping sound from the corner of the room. You retrieve your unmarked mobile and answer it.
“Well done, Bravos.”
“You know me, love. A slave to details.”
“Tell me, did you enjoy your stroll through the Hall of Maps?”
“You know history bores me.”
“How about making history? Does that bore you?”
He laughs. You can’t help but imagine the perfect flash of his smile.
“You’re sure about all of this?”
The question has you rolling your eyes. Ever since you told him you wanted him to win, he’s been fighting against the idea. It’s just like him to act so sacrificial. Like he’s never imagined taking first. You suppose it’s possible that he never has. After all, the Empire has basically crowned you already.
“For the last time, Bravos, I’m sure. I want to marry the winner of the Races.”
You hear him smiling. “You’re seriously amazing. But we still have to win, right?”
“Right. Let’s talk about the course.”
“You saw something? You had that triumphant look on your face.”
It’s your turn to laugh. “Triumphant. That’s the whole point.”
“Very much the point,” Bravos replies. “All right, what did you see?”
“A secret. I want you to let your phoenix startle out of the gate.”