The Circus’ central pit is wide and empty, and the chaotic sounds of the night echo around the circles of stone benches—crackling fire, screaming, clanking armor, deafening thunderbursts, and, now, a roaring lamashu.
As Gil runs, he watches in awe as the beast soars and swoops through the sky, wingbeats heavy and thick, finally free—and then almost runs straight into two hoplites. They’ve thrown open the main Circus entrance and charged through, shields and spears in battle position.
Kiddu tugs Gil’s hand and they run towards the center of the arena. The hoplites fan out, joined now by the third hoplite from the back door. The soldiers cast long shadows across the sandy ground from the green lit-lamps ringing the pit.
Gil feels like he’s being corralled like a wild beast. He pulls away from Kiddu, roots his feet on the ground, and holds his hands up in the air.
The hoplites do not seem to hear. They advance slowly, their pearlstone helmets blank, skull-like expressions in the night.
A wingbeat blasts from above—Gil can see the whites of the nearest hoplite’s eyes widen beneath his dark helmet.
The hoplite swings his shield up just in time—the lamashu’s hind claw swipes against the pearlstone, batting the soldier down into the dust. The beast growls and propels itself back up into the air, nearly flattening Gil with the force of its huge wings.
They dart around two standing hoplites, who are now much too distracted by the beasts overhead to block them. Only when they reach the arched corridor leading out of the Grand Circus does a hoplite finally notice their escape. He yells to give chase, and clanking footsteps trail behind them.