Page 23 of Ironhold, Trial One

“Congratulations on your victory,” she says. She has a beautiful voice, rich and deep with honey notes. But then, everything about her is beautiful. “It’s Lyra, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I say.

“And I am Ravenna.” She turns to Naia, offering her a sweet smile. “I would like to talk with Lyra alone. Please leave us.”

I start to say that Naia doesn't have to go anywhere, but Naia is already nodding along with the idea.

"Yes, yes, of course, Ravenna."

Naia leaves without even looking back at me. Is it just that this woman is powerful and rich? Is she that afraid of crossing her?

“What do you want to talk to me about?” I demand. “I should be getting back to see my friends.”

“I'd like to think we could be friends,” Ravenna says. She lays a hand on my arm, her touch delicate but also strangely strong. “But let's not talk here. My rooms are just a short way away. We can be more comfortable there.”

“I shouldn't…” I begin, but I can't remember exactly what I shouldn't be doing. It seems obvious that I should go along with what Ravenna wants. She just wants to talk with me, after all.

“I won't keep you for long,” she says, starting to lead me down the corridor. “Come along, Lyra, it’s just this way.”

I go with her, intrigued by her and what she might want. She has come out of nowhere to talk to me, and she is being friendly. Is that just because I have won a bout? Or is there something else to it? No, I have a hard time suspecting her of anything.

We reach a suite of rooms, located behind locked doors, and Ravenna sweeps inside, leading me into them. They are opulent, where the barracks is harsh. There are elegant couches, marble statues, and gold plates bearing bunches of grapes. Ravenna moves over to the one of the couches, lying on it as elegantly as if she were posing for some work of art. She gestures casually to another of the couches.

“Please, make yourself comfortable, Lyra. Help yourself to grapes.”

I take one, the simple, casual act of generosity surprising.

“I got the feeling that the free gladiators didn't like those of us who had been conscripted or enslaved,” I say.

Ravenna waves that idea away. “You're just judging us by Vex. He believes that he is the center of the games. That no one can live up to his honor or glory, because of everything his family has achieved in the past. Frankly, it is good to see him taken down a peg or two.”

I realize that she thinks I set the shadow cat on him deliberately.

“You make it sound like a game of prestige and influence rather than a fight to the death,” I say.

“Can a thing not be both?” Ravenna counters. She laughs softly. “Tell me, has anyone tried to explain to you what the games are?”

“They've told me that they are about displaying magical and martial power,” I say.

“Ah, the twin pillars of Aetheria. But has anyone explained the significance of that for the gladiators?”

I shake my head. As far as I'm concerned, it doesn't matter since so many of us are given no choice.

“Power matters so much in Aetheria,” Ravenna says. “Showing your power is kind of a rite of passage for nobles. At least for those of us who are not guaranteed to inherit our family’s wealth, who must gain positions in other ways. We demonstrate that we have the qualities that the city requires, and so we gain positions of honor and authority when we complete our time. Good marriages, honorable postings in the military, that kind of thing.”

“But you're risking your lives,” I point out.

She smiles. “Would you be sad to see me dead? How sweet. In any case, you got one thing wrong. Not all the fights are to the death. Mercy can be shown. But the danger is the point. The city wants people who are prepared to face any danger, prepared to do what is necessary. Who have the power to act. That is why nobles enter the games.”

“But then you force other people to take part, too,” I say.

“It wasn’t the case in the old days, I’m told. In the early days, they were a holy ritual, there for those with power to show off what the gods and the city had granted them. There to feed the gods with sacrifice.”

“But not now.”

She shrugs. “There are those who say that is purely about the bloodlust of the crowd, but if so, why bring in those who have powers? We could watch nulls be slaughtered in all manner of ways.”

She says it as if it is not a horrifying prospect. I get the feeling that the violence of the games does not touch her.

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