CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Instantly, my surroundings change.
I’m still in an amphitheater, only one a thousand times larger than where the Council meets. It looks like the Colosseum in Rome, only brand new. Confirming the Rome connection, screaming people appear in the seats. They look like extras in a movie about gladiators.
The emperor rises. It’s Hekima, dressed in a purple toga, with a gold laurel wreath perched on top of his frizzy gray curls.
He’s looking down at me, his dark eyes filled with genuine sadness. “You remind me of Siti,” he says in a warm, grandfatherly tone. “I wish I could let you live, but you know too much. It’s me or you—basically self-defense.”
My upper lip curls. “Whatever you need to tell yourself. If Siti were alive, she’d be ashamed of you.”
He looks as if I’ve
