"How come we never get this kind of treatment whenever we come to watch him?" Praxedes grumbled. "I guess we're not special at all."

  "Why would he want to impress you?" her brother replied calmly, earning him a jab in the side.

  We were climbing up a flight of stairs to get to our assigned level. It was one of the lower ones near the center, I was told. Closer to the action. Ursus had pulled some strings for us to be seated there, and we didn't have to pay the entrance fee either. It was too bad Flavia couldn't join, though, but at least Tiberius was with us this time.

  The older gladiator twisted his head to speak over his shoulder. "Since Felix doesn't come, having Max here is the next best thing. A Vita watching over you feels like a good omen."

  "What am I, a charm?" I muttered as we reached a landing.

  Quintus glanced at me, his eyes narrowed to tease me. "I think Ursus would call you a goddess."

  Saturnia giggled. "Prax, sounds like you have to step up your game if you want to impress Max. That or come from—ow!"

  "Stop it," I hissed quietly, flicking her forehead before raising my voice for the group. "So, since we've never visited Capitoline Hill before, we haven't seen the Colosseum yet. I can't imagine that..."

  My voice trailed off as we rounded the corner and stepped into the open. I stopped.

  "Oh."

  The arena was huge, twice the size of the amphitheater in Romachia. Filled with pristine white sands, it looked like a giant eye. As if the very earth itself was glaring at the sky, daring it to witness the bloodshed. I turned slowly and craned my neck to look behind us. There were so many seats. And awnings of white clothes had been unfurled to help shade the spectators from the sun.

  The others began to move ahead but I stayed rooted in place.

  "Coming?" Saturnia asked.

  "I am...I just need a moment."

  Something heavy had settled on my chest, like seeing a scar you couldn't do anything about. A scar that had once been fresh, smearing against my cheek with an equally bloodied embrace of panicked desperation.

  It took me a moment to realize someone waited next to me.

  "You alright?"

  My gaze slid to see Corvus before returning to the arena.

  "I'm—” My voice was rough and scratchy, catching on the lump in my throat. “This is the place…this is where my father would disappear to while I stayed behind.” A small laugh escaped. “And you know what I'd do?”

  He just looked at me, waiting.

  “I'd lie there. I always ended up ignoring Sat to just lie there in front of the door, praying to the gods that he'd come home. The last time he did, I'd thought he'd run from here just to die in front of me. And now I'm looking at it.”

  A whisper of touch brushed against my arm.

  “I'm sorry,” he said.

  Shaking my head, I took a deep breath. He'd had nothing to do with it, but his intentions were appreciated. But before I could say anything, I noticed the edge in his sharp eyes and the set of his jaw. A hollow pit formed in my stomach.

  “It's all in the past now for me,” I said. “But for you…you don't look alright either.”

  He sighed. "I'm not. You're right. Because of Sol Ludus, it's only a matter of time until Prax and I are out there."

  I wanted to ask why they didn't just retire, but that question was probably better saved for another day. Summoning a smile, I reached out briefly to squeeze his hand.

  "But that day isn't today, Corvus. Come on."

  We joined the others and soon the procession began. It was grander than anything I'd seen before, and I had the suspicion that would be a recurring theme for the day—more musicians, more gladiators. A parade of horses accompanied them, fluttering with ribbons and feathered plumes. But when the last four people emerged onto the sand, the noise from the crowd rose to a thunder that crashed around us.

  "There he is!" Saturnia screamed into my ear, jumping up and down. It was the only way I'd be able to hear her.

  Ursus strode across the arena, wearing his provocator armor. He raised both his fists in the air, turning around to wave as he walked. Then he pointed directly at us and we cheered wildly. For a brief moment, a chant rose above the chaos.

  "Regulus!"

  "Regulus!"

  "Regulus!"

  The gladiators stopped before the Senate box across the way with their fists against their chests, pledging to the glory of Aeterna. I eyed the figures in white and purple. I couldn't make out faces, but they raised their hands to acknowledge the oath. Then the announcer of the events stepped forward to address the crowd.

  "Citizens of Imperium Aerterna!" His voice rang out, echoing against the stone. "As always, we promise you a game like you've never seen before. And this time, you will have a taste of death that came from far away. A taste that first tantalized the arena of Romachia!"

  A clamor rippled across the stands, quieting only when he gestured for silence.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  "Of course they're bringing in warriors from Solis," Praxedes muttered. "But, gods above. I would've been happy never hearing that sound again."

  Saturnia paled. "You don't think Ursus will have to face them, do you?'

  "No," I answered calmly, although my hands twisted together. "His opponent's already decided and even if they changed things, he'd win easily."

  Tiberius put an arm around her shoulder reassuringly, his green eyes crinkling. "I can't imagine they would. The bets have been made, and probably more than one business deal has been arranged."

  The arena prepared for the animal fights. A circle of bestiarii shifted uneasily, searching for danger. But the barred doors along the arena walls didn't open. The suspense grew and tense silence filled the air. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart.

  Suddenly, sand burst up in the center, creating a cloud of confusion as they shouted and spun around. A large shape launched at one of the gladiators with a snarling roar. It reverberated throughout the Colosseum.

  The dust shifted and I could see a jaguar had already taken its first kill. Except this one was nearly black, the rosettes gleaming faintly on the sleek fur.

  Another set of trapdoors flung open and sand showered down again. Two more beasts sprung out and one of them clamped its jaws around a fighter before they could react. The dull crack of punctured metal sent a chill down my spine. Powerful muscles dragged the fighter down into the dark, the screams fading before cutting off sharply.

  The spectators howled, the jaguars’ bloodlust becoming their own.

  "Now that is an incredible ambush predator," Quintus commented, a note of admiration in his voice.

  Smirking, I bumped him with my shoulder. “You would say that. Are you going to study it? Maybe even switch from a thraex to a jaguar warrior?”

  He eyed me. “Max, please. I'm better than a cat.”

  “I like to say I know you well enough that you are like a cat,” I whispered back, struggling to keep a straight face. “A really superstitious one.”

  His gaze narrowed but he just scoffed.

  It took awhile for the bestiarii to take down the jaguars, and nearly every single one still standing limped away with a wound. After the arena was cleared, single-person chariots emerged next, lining up. But instead of horses, some sort of long-necked, two-legged creature pulled them.

  "I've never seen those before. Are those...birds?" I asked in fascination.

  “They're delightful!” Saturnia leaned over the edge for a closer look. "Don't they look like walking clouds? Dangerous clouds, though. Look at the way those claws gouge into the sand."

  Tiberius leaned over. "Ostriches. I've seen its kick kill a man before, which of course makes it Alba's favorite animal now. That girl is a menace,” he said fondly.

  The starting signal snapped in the air. Chariots lurched forward, the ostriches driven by the sting of a whip. I thought it was just a race until the charioteers pulled out swords.

  “Oh, are they going to fight each other while—”

  But I never finished the sentence. A blade came down on the neck of one of the birds, almost severing it completely. The ostrich squawked, tumbling down in a crash of feathers and gangly legs. The momentum of the chariot carried it over the animal, crushing it.

  Saturnia grimaced. "Oh gods."

  I put an arm around her shoulders. By the time the race was finished, only half the chariots crossed the finish line, leaving a trail of carcasses in their wake. The praegenarii came out after to entertain the crowd while the next stage was prepared. It struck me how quick we were willing to move on from the mayhem.

  "Tiber, what's the craziest thing that's happened for the games?" I asked.

  He propped his foot up on the bench in front of him. "It was before my time here, but to celebrate five hundred years since Aeterna's founding, they flooded the whole arena with water and—"

  "You've got to be joking," I burst out incredulously.

  He grinned. "Ask Meridius if you don't believe me. But they filled it with water and had an entire battle between several ships. I heard they scoured the records to find that idea."

  I looked out over the arena trying to picture it. Instead of white sand, a surface of rippling blue…growing murky with blood and floating corpses. Anything for the spectacle, it seemed. I shook my head and turned my attention back to my friends. The twins had been unusually quiet this whole time, which made sense. I needed to have a better understanding of what could happen.

  “So how often are there games here?” I asked.

  “Every month, the same as everywhere,” Tiberius answered. “But the ones with death matches only happen once or twice a season.”

  I leaned back, chewing over the information in my head. We were straddling the changing of seasons, so it was hard to tell if this one counted towards spring or summer. Pertinax's offer came to mind. He hadn't come back yet, but I was sure it was only a matter of time. I was also sure he'd wait long enough that things were bound to happen—things that would either make me regret turning it down or unable to refuse a second time. Knowing him, probably both. He wasn't evil but by the gods he was self serving and beyond irritating.

  Praxedes perched beside me, jolting me from my reverie. "Have things changed after the Liberalia games?"

  I squinted. "What do you mean?"

  "With Ignatius," she elaborated, poking my chest.

  "Oh. Actually, I don't think I've seen him since then. He used to come in everyday for his drink of just water and protein powder."

  "Sounds disgusting.” Praxedes flicked her hand dismissively. "Oh well, his loss. You tried to be nice and civil to him. The problem is all his own now."

  "That's what I figured. One less thing for me to stress over."

  On the other side of me, Saturnia leaned forward. "So, Quintus. Would it be too much of a nosy fan question to ask you what the first tattoo was?"

  "Yes," he replied and she sucked in her lips, as if she could swallow her words back. He twisted around to offer her a slight smile. "Nothing wrong with asking. But there's only one person I'll tell. When I find them."

  Corvus crossed his arms. "You might be as mysterious as Flavia, man."

  He shrugged.

  I cleared my throat. "Since we're on the topic of personal questions, it's your turn Tiber. What's the reason you'd become a gladiator?"

  "There's no special reason. Just money."

  "That's still an important reason."

  Bracing his elbows on his knees, he laced his fingers together. "I inherited my family's debt. So I became a gladiator and sent Ovidia money while living in the barracks. At least until Alba was born. Early on, I'd also made a desperate loan agreement for a home, and only finished paying it off not too long ago." He stood. "After my family, your father was the best thing to happen to me."

  I looked up at him sharply. "Oh?"

  "He convinced Meridius to let me leave the barracks early. And then when he started Ludus Invictus, he paid off the debt for me under the promise I'd contribute an equal amount to the fund once I was able."

  "Really? I had no idea," I said softly.

  Tiberius patted my head. "He really tried to keep you separated from the gladiator world growing up. It's a place of tragedy and he said you'd been through enough as it was."

  “Maybe. But it's my turn to take away some of his worries,” I replied, ducking away from his hand with a laugh.

  “Look,” Praxedes interrupted, nodding to the arena. “Now that's unexpected. Is this another performance?”

  Tall wooden towers had appeared while we talked, and the tops were nearly level with us. And on each, a person stood precariously with a crude set of wings strapped on.

  Then the towers were set on fire.