A fine brown horse was brought in by another slave, and even from her cage quite far from us, I heard Caela already squawking. One of the men at the lifts had explained why griffins hated both horses and men. The men, because they always tried to steal the griffin’s gold. And the horses, because they carried the men to their crimes.

Despite my protests, the soldiers lifted me onto the back of the horse and then tied my feet to each foothold of the saddle.

“If you try to slide off, this horse will drag you to your death,” Felix said.

The soldier beside me laughed. “And if you don’t, that griffin will take care of it for you. She’s already angry.”

They led me to a larger ramp normally used for raising sets into the arena, and immediately ordered the other slaves to raise me up. When it was halfway there, someone opened Caela’s cage.

Caela thundered out of her cage toward the closest open entrance. The noise she made spooked the horse beneath me, and as soon as he was able to run, he rode us into the arena and took off into the jungle setting.

I heard the deafening noise of the audience before I saw them, and once I did, I was amazed to see such a vast crowd all in one place. It was impossible to believe there were so many people in the world, and yet I knew this represented only a fraction of Rome’s total numbers. They filled every bend of the arena, row after row of them crowded together, like I had entered a hive of bees. Between us was a wall made of polished marble bordered by ivory rollers that even the best climber could not get over, and elsewhere was a tall metal net. Attendants roamed behind the net to threaten the animals and drive them to the center of the arena, and to kill them if necessary. There were other things happening in the arena too, hidden from my view by the dense jungle foliage, so I didn’t know what was causing all the onlookers’ cheers and screams and boos. I probably didn’t want to know because whether the audience was happy or angry, nothing happening in here was good news for me. Sunlight poured into the arena, filtered through a vast canopy over most of the amphitheater. The red wool cloth kept out some of the heat, but gave the arena a slight reddish tint. So the empire would give the people comfort in their barbarism. If I could’ve done it, I would’ve pulled the canopy down and let the people feel the same heat and sweat they had inflicted upon me.

The horse turned again, and I tried to get my bearings from what we had put in place last night, but it had been quiet, and dark, and empty then, like a mine. It was nearly impossible to concentrate in here now.

The brush moved past us in a blur and it took all my strength to hold on to the horse, especially since my hands were still tied. I didn’t want to be on this ride, subject to the horse’s fears and instincts, but with my feet fastened to the saddle, there was no smart way to leave it.

Or maybe it was foolish to consider leaving. We came to a clearing where a tiger darted out from the underbrush. On my own, it would’ve gotten me. But instead it nipped at the horse’s heels, encouraging him to go faster. The audience reacted to that with a roar that sounded like disappointment. I hoped they’d get used to it, because I wasn’t finished with disappointing them. Not even close.

Once we got more into the open, I caught my first glimpse of Caela. She fluttered off the ground like she was trying to fly, but whenever she did, the attendants behind the nets threw rocks that forced her back down. She had the nugget of gold in one of her talons, and sacrificed her body to protect the gold from those stones. Her screeches came out almost like a lion’s roars, and further terrified the horse beneath me.

“Bestiarius, bestiarius,” the audience chanted. He was the hunter, and I assumed he must’ve just entered the arena. A knot formed in my throat. My life had been in danger many times before, from the risks I was forced to take at the mines, and from Sal’s punishments, but nothing like this. For the first time ever, I was prey.

Along with the attendants, in one area just outside the arena podium, I saw archers crouched with their bows at the ready. I didn’t understand that at first — after all, the bestiarius was somewhere in this arena, and I trusted that he was deadly enough. But then I saw the people right behind the archers: senators and Praetors and their wives and children. The archers were there to make sure nothing left the arena alive. Not the animals or criminals, or Caela. Or me. The only one who would walk out of here was the bestiarius, after he removed my bulla and presented it to the emperor.

This was exactly what Aurelia had tried to warn me about. She said I needed to think like a Roman.

That was what I needed to do now. I had to think. Concentrate. Escape.

The bulla had given me strength in raising the pulleys. If I was strong enough for that, maybe I could break the ropes around my wrists. I tried it and they snapped like brittle twigs. That was almost too easy, and I wondered if all magic was like that, as simple as having the thought.

I shook off the rope from my arms, and just in time too, for the horse reared up when a wild boar charged out from the underbrush.

“Turn right!” I yelled. “Now!”

And it did, as if it had understood me.

I rubbed a hand across his neck and leaned into his ear. “I will help you, if I can. But you must be calm.”

Not far from us, a horrible scream erupted. The audience roared with delight — another criminal had been attacked. I didn’t know who or what had gotten him, but I needed to keep riding as far as possible from that sound. The sweat that had creased my brow dripped into my eyes, stinging them. But I wiped it with the back of my hand and kept riding. I could not stop now.

Caela was still somewhere behind me, hidden within the thick jungle leaves, but her feline instincts seemed to have taken over those of the eagle. I didn’t see her trying to fly anymore. She would be somewhere, silently crouching, and waiting for the moment to pounce.

The horse took us into a clearing near the edge of the arena floor. When we emerged, a man in the lower seats stood and his glare bored right through me.

Radulf.

Radulf knew I was alive, and likely guessed that I had the bulla. From the expression on his face, he wasn’t particularly happy about either of those facts.

From his seat, Radulf pointed at me and shouted orders at some soldiers in the aisles. They pulled out their swords and began running out the doors. It would only take them a few minutes to get in here. Every passing second threatened any hope I still had to escape. I redirected the horse into denser jungle and glanced back only long enough for a quick look at Radulf. His face was nearly as red as his uniform.

The next face I saw was even more familiar. Sal leapt out from behind a tree — one I had put in place myself only the night before — and tried to jump on the horse, but he missed and fell to the ground instead. If he had caught me, with my feet still attached, he’d have sent me to my death.

So I concentrated again, just as I had before, and as I thought about the strength I needed, it wasn’t hard to snap my legs free from the ropes.

I immediately led the horse to where Sal was standing on the ground. He was limping from his failed attempt at taking my horse, and, I noticed, also bleeding from a wound in his shoulder. “The bestiarius has a good spear,” he said. “But terrible aim.”

I slid off the horse. “Get on, but avoid the griffin. She hates horses, and probably hates you too. So get out into the open — she won’t be there. When you have the emperor’s attention, tell him I’m alive, right now while he can see me. It’s your only chance to prove your innocence.”