Page 13 of City of Secrets and Shadows
“Gods,” I breathed, forgetting my discomfort for a moment. The city was everything I’d heard and more — the heart of the Empire, the centre of the civilized world. And somewhere in that maze of streets and buildings was the man Livia had come to kill.
Livia guided the dragon lower, circling wide around the city’s perimeter. “We can’t land inside the walls,” she called back to us. “We’ll have to find somewhere to land, somewhere we can leave our dragon - at least for now.”
I nodded against his back, not trusting myself to speak. The dragon continued its descent, and my stomach lurched in response. Focus on something else, I told myself. Anything but the drop.
So I focused on her instead.
Livia’s silhouette against the cloudless sky, the curve of her spine, the strength in her shoulders. The way she’d looked at mewhen I’d finally woken after Tarshi knocked me unconscious — disappointed but not surprised. As though she’d expected better from me but wasn’t shocked by my failure.
I wanted to be the man she believed I could be. Wanted to erase the memory of my betrayal with loyalty so fierce it would burn away all doubt. If following her on this insane quest to the Imperial City was what it took, then so be it. I’d follow her into the jaws of death itself if it meant a chance at redemption.
Not that I believed in her plan. The Imperial City was a fortress, the Emperor untouchable within its walls. We’d be captured before we ever got close enough to enact whatever revenge she envisioned. But I’d go along with it for now, gain her trust again, then find the right moment to steer her toward safety instead. Convince her that life — our lives together — was worth more than vengeance.
The dragon dropped lower, its massive wings creating downdrafts that stirred the massive plains of grasses below. My heart hammered against my ribs, as we landed with a jolt that nearly unseated me. The moment the dragon’s claws touched earth, I released Tarshi and slid awkwardly to the ground, legs unsteady after hours of flight. I turned away quickly, busying myself with the packs, desperate to put distance between us.
“Everything alright?” Livia asked, approaching from where she’d dismounted.
“Fine,” I snapped, harsher than I’d intended. “Just glad to be on solid ground.”
She studied me for a moment, head tilted in that way she had when trying to solve a puzzle. Then she nodded, apparently accepting my explanation. “We’ll rest till morning, let the dragon hunt. We can go into the city.”
I watched her walk away, the setting sun casting gold and red highlights in her dark brown hair. Behind me, I felt rather than saw Tarshi’s attention, like a weight between my shoulderblades. I’d killed men for less than the humiliation he’d just witnessed. For less than the knowing look in his eyes.
I busied myself setting up camp, falling back on the routine we’d developed over the last week. There was comfort in the familiar tasks — checking supplies, securing the perimeter, preparing a fire pit. The certainty of purpose, of knowing exactly what needed to be done next. Outside the ludus, the world felt vast and formless, each decision weighted with too many possibilities.
In the arena, I’d known my place, my purpose. Even as I’d hated it, there had been a simplicity to life there. Fight. Survive. Protect Livia when I could. Now freedom stretched before us like an endless desert, and I found myself grasping for structure, for boundaries.
But I still had one purpose, one mission that remained clear: keep Livia safe. Even from herself. Even from her own reckless plans for revenge.
The thought froze me mid-motion as I realized a new fear. What if that wasn’t enough for her anymore? In the ludus, we’d been thrown together by circumstance, but now... Now she had choices. Now she had the mongrel with his easy grace and black eyes. Now she had her dragon and her quest for vengeance. What if she no longer needed what little protection I could offer? What if, without the walls of the ludus forcing us together, she realized she had no need of me?
I watched her across the camp, talking with Tarshi as they gathered fallen branches from the grove of Icari trees she’d brought us down in. They moved in perfect coordination, anticipating each other’s needs without speaking. When did that happen? I tore my gaze away, focusing instead on building the fire pit with unnecessary force. I would prove my worth to her. Would make myself indispensable to her plan, even as I workedto change it. Livia might have choices now, but I would make sure she chose me in the end.
Even if it meant tolerating the half-breed’s presence a while longer.
The next morning, we left the dragon hidden in a secluded valley with enough game to keep it fed for a few days, then hiked the remaining distance to the city walls. My legs ached from the trek across the plains, but it was a welcome pain compared to the torment of dragon flight.
The Imperial City loomed before us as we crested the last hill. From the ground, it appeared even more imposing than it had from the dragon’s back. Massive walls of white stone rose thirty feet high, topped with iron spikes and patrolled by Legionaries in gleaming armour. Their red cloaks fluttered in the morning breeze, bright as fresh blood against the pale stone.
“It’s bigger than I imagined,” Livia murmured beside me, her voice steady despite the tension I could see in her shoulders.
We’d cleaned ourselves in the first pool of water we’d found after the storm, and I’d brought some clothing from the store along with our travel provisions, so we didn’t look any different to the other people passing through the gates, but tension still coiled in my gut as we approached the gate.
I nodded, keeping my face neutral despite the tension coiling in my gut. The Imperial guards looked bored as they waved people through, but their armour gleamed in the sunlight, and their spears were sharp. One wrong move, one hint of our true purpose, and we’d be dragged before a magistrate before we could blink.
The guard at the gate barely glanced at us as we approached, more interested in the merchant caravan behind us with its loaded wagons. My heart hammered against my ribs as we passed beneath the massive stone archway, certain at anymoment someone would recognize us, would shout that we were escaped gladiators.
But no one did. We were just three more faceless visitors in a city none of us had ever seen before.
“Gods above,” Livia whispered as we stepped into the main thoroughfare, her eyes wide with wonder and trepidation. I couldn’t blame her – I felt equally overwhelmed by the sheer scale of it all.
In our town, the largest building other than the ludus had been the governor’s house – a two-story stone structure we’d thought impossibly grand. Here, buildings five and six stories tall crowded against each other, casting the narrow streets into perpetual shadow. The noise was deafening – thousands of voices shouting, laughing, haggling, crying, all blending into a constant roar punctuated by the clatter of wheels on cobblestones and the occasional blare of a military horn.
“Don’t gawk,” I murmured, though I was fighting the same impulse. “We need to look like we belong.”
“How?” Tarshi muttered back. “None of us have ever set foot in a city this size.”
He was right. My and Livia’s entire life before the ludus had been spent in a farming village so small it appeared on no imperial maps. The Imperial City might as well have been another world entirely.
