No matter my anger, I wouldn’t threaten to kill Phanes within earshot of anyone who was loyal to him. Oh, no. I’d continue to pretend to know nothing.
“I have to tell Ian that what he heard was an act, and I had no idea I’d been gone that long,” I whispered to Ashael.
He frowned. “I told you, the trials start soon, and again, if you’re caught doing anything that’s considered interfering, your life and Ian’s life will be forfeit.” Then Ashael’s tone softened. “But I am his second. If I can manage to tell him without being overheard, I will. Regardless, be ready to leave as soon as the trials are over.”
I didn’t get a chance to reply before I saw Helena, head of the servants who’d dressed me earlier. From the way Helena’s head swiveled to and fro, she was looking for someone. When her gaze stopped as soon as it landed on me, and she practically charged in my direction, I knew I was her target.
Phanes must have sent Helena after me. I glanced around the pillar that concealed us. The onlookers in the stadium were focused on the center of the field, waiting for the action to start. Phanes, however, was staring off in the direction where he’d last seen me.
Oh, yes, Phanes was anxious to get me back. No wonder, too. He must be worried about what I’d discover. Well, too late.
I ducked back behind the pillar. If I couldn’t stop the trials, I intended to be there to assist.
I swept away from Ashael without another word. I couldn’t risk Helena telling him that she’d seen me arguing with him. Then I clapped my hands at Helena as imperiously as Phanes.
“Take me to Lord Phanes,” I said. “I’ve gotten turned around in these crowds.”
She gave me an appalled once-over. “Your hair is askew and your dress is smudged. Come. I will make you presentable first—”
“No, you’ll take me to Phanes,” I cut her off. Ashael had said the trials were about to start. I couldn’t miss a moment.
“At once, mistress, after I make you flawless again.”
I couldn’t waste time letting her primp me. I hated playing the imperious mistress, but I’d do far worse to save Ian.
“Take me to Lord Phanes, or I’ll find him myself, and tell him of your insolence.”
With a grimly resigned look, Helena swept out her arm. “If you would follow me.”
Chapter 10
Helena shouldn’t have worried. Smudged dress or no, Phanes looked glad to see me when I ascended the stairs to his private stone alcove. He smiled at me, and I forced a brief smile in return. I couldn’t let him see the anger boiling behind my eyes.
As soon as I sat, Helena snapped her fingers, and servants scurried to offer me wine and fruit. I declined, and she gave me another disapproving look before moving to the corner of the alcove behind me.
In the scant time since I’d last seen it, the empty expanse of grass in the infield now boasted a wide strip that ran down the middle like an airplane runway. It ended in a silk line stretched across the ground. A disc made of an indeterminate metal was in front of it, with a finish line about thirty meters away. At that line, a single bow and arrow rested on the ground, its target probably the small, red fruit dangling from the beam that stretched across the top of the stadium, because why else would that be there?
Ancient Greeks had featured foot races, discus throwing, and archery in their early Olympics. This setup vaguely resembled those games. That didn’t sound as ominous as Phanes and Ashael had inferred, let alone explained the heavy betting from spectators that Ian wouldn’t survive.
A loud cheer from the crowd snapped my attention to the entrance of the stadium. A naked, blond-haired man ran into the arena holding a lit torch. My brows rose. Was this the champion Ian had to face? If so, he didn’t seem that imposing.
The naked blond man ran to the end of the U-shaped stadium and touched the flame to what looked like oil-soaked twine surrounding a hatch in the ground. The twine burst into flames, and he ran away to the sound of more cheers that soon became a chant.
“Naxos . . . Naxos . . . Naxos!”
The hatch burst open. Tremors vibrated through the stadium as everyone suddenly jumped to their feet. Something very large, dark, and horned burst from the flame-haloed hatch to a crescendo of cheers from the crowd.
I stared. Naxos was imposing enough when he ran on all fours. But when he stood, topping nine feet tall and about half that length wide, I let out a soft sound that had Phanes glancing over to give me a look that was partly arrogant and partly pitying.
“My champion,” he said, as if I needed the clarification.
I took a moment to compose myself before I replied. “You didn’t mention that Naxos was a Minotaur.”
One of Phanes’s shoulders lifted in a half shrug.
Right. As if that was of no consequence.
Minotaurs weren’t just creatures that—normally—only existed in myth. They were also famed for their strength, ferocity, and most of all, lethality. Looking at Naxos, I could believe all of it. His head was twice the size of a normal bull’s, though he had a regular bull’s trademark shaggy dark fur, long snout, and sharp-tipped horns. He had a bull’s tail, too, a somewhat fragile-looking thing compared to the rest of him.
The rest of his body was humanoid and so slabbed with muscle, it looked like he’d been given injections of supernatural steroids for at least a hundred years. With his immense size, Naxos should have been slow and lumbering. But he switched from galloping on all fours to running on two legs to spinning around with a speed and fluidness that made me want to throw up.
Great. Minotaurs were as fast as vampires. Just as strong, too, judging from how easily Naxos ripped one of the stone statues bordering the arena off its base. He bit its head off, spat it out, and snapped the body in half before hurling the pieces so far, people on the ground level of the stadium had to scatter to avoid them.
The crowd loved his violent showmanship. They cheered so loudly that my head pulsed in rhythm with the sound.
No wonder people had been betting against Ian. If I didn’t know better, I might have, too.
But Ian was far stronger and faster than other Master vampires. He also possessed Cain’s horn; an ancient, magic-infused weapon that was lethal to all kinds of creatures. Ten days ago—no, a month for Ian, dammit!—Ian had slain two Anzus with that horn, and Anzus, like Minotaurs, were creatures from mythology who couldn’t be killed by normal means.
So, fearsome though he may be, Naxos shouldn’t be able to defeat Ian. My nerves settled a bit.
“Bring out the challenger!” Phanes commanded.
At that, a gong sounded so loudly right behind me that I almost jumped out of my skin. I turned and saw Helena, still holding the mallet she’d used to bang on the shield-sized percussion instrument. She gave me a guileless look, but I doubted it was an accident that she’d positioned the gong directly behind my head. If this was her revenge for me clapping my hands at her, I had to admire her pettiness.
I quickly swung back around, because my ringing ears were the least of my concerns. Still, the gong had deafened me to the point where it took a few seconds to hear the boos from the crowd as Ian took the field.
He didn’t run out the way Naxos had. In fact, Ian almost strolled, his right hand flitting out in an occasional wave at the booing crowd. His left hand held some kind of wrapped flag on a long, dark pole. When he was halfway across the field, Ian started heading right toward me.