His heart . . .
I closed my eyes and came to a gasping halt. I could almost hear the sounds of them eating his heart, and the bile rose in my throat.
Cai and Kassandra exchanged a glance, and Cai looked as if he thought I was still dosed.
“Did you see anything like that?” he asked Kassandra. “A gladiator fight or . . . or the rest?”
She shook her head. “My hostess sisters and I were restricted to one of the courtyard salons while we were there. And they never keep us long at these parties—we cost too much—just until everyone is drunk enough not to notice our departure.”
“And are you absolutely sure of what you saw in that chamber, Fallon?” Cai asked. “It was dark, and you weren’t in your right mind.”
“You don’t believe me. Neither of you.”
Kassandra shook her head. “No! No . . . it’s just—”
“Ridiculous? Outlandish?” My voice climbed hysterically upward. “The idea that there were a bunch of madmen eating a dead man’s flesh? Is that so much more of a stretch to believe when the evening’s entertainment was watching two men fight to the death? Is this what kind of city Rome is? The so-called beating heart of the civilized world? Ajax’s heart wasn’t beating anymore, I assure you!” I took a deep breath and tried to calm down.
“I understand.” Cai put up his hands and shared another glance with Kassandra. “Do you know whose house it was?”
Again Kassandra shook her head. “They never told me.”
“It was called Corvinus,” I said. “Domus Corvinus.”
Cai winced and squeezed his eyes shut. “Pontius Aquila.”
I nodded, even as I felt the blood drain from my face. Aeddan hadn’t lied, and Sorcha had been right. I was being hunted by the Collector.
Cai didn’t seem convinced. “Aquila is a hard man,” he said. “Even cruel at times, if his reputation is to be believed. But he’s also the Tribune of the Plebs. A respected citizen. He’s not a . . . a barbarian.”
“Are you going to tell Caesar?” Kassandra asked quietly.
“Tell him what?” Cai rounded on her. “That a runaway gladiatrix—a runaway from his ludus—out of her head on mandrake-spiked wine was witness to a munera? At what, from the sound of it, might as well have been a Bacchanale?”
My heart sank with the truth of his words,.
“Those kinds of revels—not to mention the ritual Fallon speaks of—have been outlawed in Rome for decades,” he continued. “I’m sorry. No one would believe you, Fallon.”
“I believe her,” Kassandra said quietly.
I looked at her. “You do?”
“I believe a lot of things most people don’t,” she said. “Because I hear the secrets most people keep hidden. When people have so much money that they can do anything, buy anything, be anything, then they start to look around for the things money can’t buy. Strength, courage, nobility . . . they see it in others. And they want it.”
Cai nodded in reluctant agreement. “The men”—he looked at me—“and women who fight . . . they become like gods. Like Hercules or Aneas or the Amazon warrior queens of legend. They’re worshipped and coveted—and, eventually, destroyed. The mob will build you up only to tear you down. But the ones like Aquila who see themselves as masters of the arena? They will ultimately seek to devour you.”
“I wish you didn’t mean that quite so literally,” I said in a choked whisper.
Cai put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
For the first time, I truly believed him. Kassandra went to fetch me a cloak to stave off the early morning chill so that Cai could take me back to the Achillea town house. As we left, she gave me one last warning.
“Please, Fallon,” she said. “Be careful. Your world, I think, could prove far more dangerous outside of the arena than within it.”
Out in the street, Cai paced silently at my side.
“I grew up with him,” I said.
Cai stopped and looked at me.
“Aeddan. The gladiator—Mandobracius—the one I spoke of. He was the brother of a boy I loved back home.” My voice was quiet, muted by the stone walls of the houses that lined the narrow street. “His name was Mael, and I was going to marry him. Aeddan and Mael fought over me and . . . and Mael died. Aeddan killed him.”
Cai’s arms were around me suddenly, and I felt my tears soaking into the fabric of his tunic. I hadn’t realized I was crying.
“I tried to stop him. . . .” I took a breath to steady my voice. “I ran after Aeddan, and that was how the slavers found me.”
“Fallon, I’m sorry.”
“I meant to tell you . . . I did.” I looked up at Cai. “But I never thought I’d see him again. Only he’s here now, in Rome, and I—”
“Fallon.” Cai smiled down at me, tightening his grasp. “You’re the Fury Killer. He can’t hurt you now. No one can.”
I tried to smile back, but I knew that it wasn’t Aeddan I was afraid of hurting me. When the time came, I would face him again and I would fight.