Mark of the Thief (10 page)

Felix exhaled. “The son of Senator Valerius is outside. He asked for you by name.”

Crispus? That was unexpected, but still a great relief, considering who else it might have been. “I met him before I left the mines,” I said. “He’s harmless.”

Felix’s face twisted. “That’s why I’m worried. Because with that thing you carry, no one is harmless. Until you give it to the emperor, you must keep it safe.”

“Why bother?” I asked. “Radulf will take it from the emperor, so Rome is finished anyway.”

Felix quickly glanced around him to be sure no one had overheard us, and then slammed me against the wall. “You don’t want to make the general angry, Nic. No one wants that.”

Maybe someone should’ve told me that before I stole the bulla from him. “You’re afraid of him too,” I said. His eyes widened, and I knew I was right. “Why?”

“He’s powerful,” Felix whispered. “More than you know.”

“Is there a problem here?”

We both turned and saw Crispus standing at the base of the exit ramp, tall and stern, with both hands on his hips. He wore his authority over us like a cloak, perfectly comfortable with his power.

Felix apologized — to Crispus, not to the person whose air he was choking off with his arm — and then released me. But before he did, he grabbed my shoulder one last time and gave me a look that perfectly communicated his warning about not revealing the bulla. As if I needed such a reminder. Nobody understood the potential consequences better than I did.

I walked up to Crispus and gave him a curt bow, but he waved that aside and said, “You can do that for my father perhaps, but not me.”

So I stood up straight, but would not look at him. I felt desperate to ask what he wanted, but we couldn’t talk here in the open.

“Come with me.” Crispus began walking up the ramp. I started to follow behind him, but he motioned me forward, to his side. It confused me, rather, even worse, it worried me. He would not treat me like an equal … unless I had something he wanted.

“How do you like the venatio?” he asked.

“I haven’t been here a full day yet,” I reminded him.

“My father was disappointed that he never got the chance to buy you.” He waited for a response, but I was biting my tongue to keep from saying something I shouldn’t. What did he expect from me? Some sort of apology for not being on the market that day? Crispus didn’t even notice my irritation. After another step or two, he continued, “And my father would’ve liked to come here and talk with you, but he felt that would be unwise. After all, he’s a senator, and —”

“And senators don’t talk to slaves,” I said. “I understand.”

I had expected we would leave the amphitheater, but instead, Crispus led me through the inner corridor to where merchants were already setting up their shops in preparation for the next day’s games.

“It gets bigger each year,” Crispus explained. “Fiercer battles, more blood, more death. Whenever an emperor tries to limit the games, the people become angry. The last thing he needs is an uprising within his walls. So he gives them the show they want.”

He walked forward and talked to a man with more varieties of fruit on display than I’d ever seen in my life. The more I saw of Rome, the more I realized how sheltered my existence had been at the mines. Much as I already admired this great city, I knew Livia would love it even more. I couldn’t wait to tell her everything I’d seen here.

The fruit seller didn’t seem too happy about what Crispus wanted, but again, Crispus was clearly comfortable giving orders, and the man was left with no choice but to bow in obedience. He then ordered everyone else out, leaving us alone.

Crispus motioned me toward him. “Being a senator’s son has a few advantages,” he said, smiling. That seemed rather obvious. He was educated, wealthy, and likely had all the food he could possibly eat. As far as I was concerned, he had every advantage.

Behind the market display was a small room with only a bed inside. Crispus shut the door and suggested that I sit. I took the floor. He started to object, then let the matter go.

Crispus said, “There’s no easy way to open this conversation, so I’ll just start. My father wants to know about the mark on your back.”

I sat up straighter, pressing the wing of my shoulder into the cement wall, and averting my eyes as if I hadn’t heard him. Which was idiotic. Obviously, I could hear him fine.

“You can talk to me,” he said. “Remember, it was my father who first told you it was more than a scratch.”

“And immediately warned me not to discuss it,” I said.

“I know.” Crispus left his place on the bed and came to sit beside me. Then he lowered his voice. “But you need to know what it is.”

“The Divine Star,” I whispered. “Julius Caesar’s mark.”

He seemed surprised. “Yes! The griffin gave it to you, right? That’s how a person gets the mark, when they come into contact with a creature of the gods.”

My hand brushed over the hidden bulla. It was also from the gods.

“The Divine Star is very rare.” Crispus leaned in. “And also, very dangerous.”

“Why?” I asked.

“It’s magic, Nic. That griffin gave you magic.”

It was all starting to make sense. Caela had fought me in the cave, until I got the bulla around my neck. Once I did, she recognized its power, and then marked my shoulder to give me the ability to use it. To the rest of the world, the bulla I held would never be anything but a trinket left over from Caesar’s youth. But to me, and maybe only to me, it held the power of the gods.

“So what I’m here to ask,” Crispus continued, “is if I can see that magic. I want to see what you can do.”

C
rispus didn’t understand what he was asking. I felt nothing in the Divine Star, and I couldn’t tell him about the bulla. So I only shook my head. “I can’t do magic!”

He obviously wasn’t often told no. His voice took on a tone of irritation. “You can’t show me, or you won’t?”

Frankly, both were true, but I said, “There’s nothing to show.” I held out my hand, palm up and fingers bent. “Nothing is happening. Nothing will happen because I can’t do magic.”

“This only means you haven’t yet learned it.”

I got up off the floor and moved away from him. “Even if I could do it, why should I show you? If your father was right, then I shouldn’t trust anyone, including you and him.”

Crispus stood with me. “My father can protect you!”

“From who?”

“General Radulf.” Crispus barely spoke above a whisper. “He isn’t what everyone in Rome thinks. He’s got more power than the emperor, the entire military at his command, and a ruthless ambition that only those who’ve had to deal with him could understand. Once he knows you have magic, he won’t stand for a slave boy challenging him.”

“I’m not going to challenge him!” I could admit to being foolish in life, but not stupid. Not
that
stupid anyway.

“You may not have any choice,” he said. “Eventually Radulf will find out about that mark, and when he does, nothing will stop him from coming for you. Others have learned that same lesson.”

Something about the way he said that made my heart skip a beat. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re not the first person to bear the Divine Star. Radulf has found all of them, sooner or later. He pulls out their magic to make himself more powerful, then sucks out their lives along with it. He’s done that to all of them, Nic. He’ll do it to you too.”

Did Felix know that? Because even if I gave the bulla to the emperor, I couldn’t remove the Divine Star from my shoulder. And if Radulf was going to come after me, then I needed to keep the bulla. Figuring out how to use what little magic still remained in it was probably my only chance to survive Radulf’s eventual attack.

“How can your father protect me?” I asked Crispus.

“He could train you to harness the power in the mark.”

“I told you already, it has no power! You’re not marked, so you’re only guessing that it’s magic. What if it’s not?”

“And what if it is? You need our help.”

I nodded. “If your father really wants to help me, then he must free my sister, Livia, from the mines. That’s what I need most.”

Crispus chewed on his lip while he considered that. “If he does that for you, he will expect something in return.”

Of course he would, and I doubted it was anything simple. “What?”

Crispus shrugged. “Let me tell him your request, then see what he says. And for now, you stay out of Radulf’s way.”

That seemed rather obvious, but I smiled anyway. “I can definitely keep my part of the bargain.”

As we walked out, Crispus grabbed an apple from the market stall and gave it to me. I started to hand it back to him, but he said, “They won’t charge me for taking it. Just eat.”

I bit into it and savored the sweet crunch. “They’d cut off my hand for doing that.”

Crispus laughed. “Who will they report it to? The Praetors? They won’t arrest the son of a senator.”

Yet, according to Felix, the Praetors were dangerous. Did Crispus believe that too?

He bid farewell to me at the top of the ramp. I tossed the apple core aside, then walked down to the end of the ramp, where Felix had worn circles in the dirt with his pacing.

“What did he want?” Felix asked.

“Fashion advice.” He grunted, and I said, “He doesn’t know about the bulla.”

Felix seemed to breathe easier, though it was also obvious he had used the past half hour to put together a plan of his own. On the other side of the nearest archway was Aurelia, the girl who had ridden with us into Rome. She sneered at me as if the last thing she wanted was to be here. I completely agreed. I had no interest in seeing her either. I folded my arms and angled my body so I could look at Felix, but not have to see her.

“That senator’s son was a risk,” Felix said. “I want you to have a protector.”

“Her?” I felt like he had slapped me. “A kitten could do a better job.”

“He couldn’t find one foolish enough to do it,” Aurelia said. “If I didn’t need the money, I wouldn’t have agreed to do it either.”

I took Felix’s arm and turned him to face the wall. “The senator and his son are no threat to me. But if an actual threat comes, do you really think this girl can do anything to help?”

“Well, I can’t exactly hire the Praetorian Guard to watch you, can I?” Felix countered. The emperor’s personal guards? No, I supposed not. He added, “She’s stronger than she looks, and nobody will question her being here. Besides, I trust her.”

But did I trust Felix? He had misled me about Caela’s role in the games. It was possible he was lying now, maybe even likely. Besides, even if I did need help, I doubted Aurelia was the answer, and I had no intention of making anything easy on her.

I stomped away, and heard her follow behind me. Whatever Felix was paying her to watch over me like a nursemaid, I decided to make her earn every single coin. So I found work that smelled bad enough to curl her nose hairs. I darted from one end of the hypogeum to the other, dodging around corners, or climbing into high places that I was sure she wouldn’t be able to reach. I loved the idea of forcing her to go back to Felix and tell him she had given up, but hour after hour, she stayed near me, and climbed even higher than I did, just to prove she could. Never speaking a word, only rolling her eyes when I was close enough to notice.

Finally, I found a quiet corner and announced to her how I intended to use the space.

“That’s disgusting,” she said. “They’ve got to have latrines somewhere.”

“Not for slaves,” I said, grinning. “So do you still want to guard me, keep me safe?”

“Don’t you want my help anymore?” she asked.

“I never wanted it in the first place!” I answered. “Obviously, I don’t need it either.”

“You think because you bent the metal in the caravan that you can defend yourself? Can you fight?”

I’d been in plenty of fights in the mines. Admittedly, I’d lost most of them, but not all, and besides, the other men were much bigger than me. She wouldn’t have done any better.

“If a fight starts, I’d sooner beg the crippled widows of Rome for help before asking you,” I said.

She leapt forward and shoved me against the wall with her forearm pressed against my neck and her knee jammed into my gut. I would’ve pushed back but I knew her other hand held a knife, and probably a sharp one. Judging by the glare in her eye, I figured that at the moment, she was the one I most needed protection from.

“They tried to sell me into slavery a few years ago, and I fought them off. Do you know why? Because I could. Because I don’t give in. I’m not like you, Nic. I don’t take orders in exchange for a crust of food.”

“Sure you do,” I said. “Why else are you following me around?”

Her face reddened. “I’m doing what I have to.”

“So am I!” My temper flared, and it took effort to keep from yelling. “They kill runaways.” I tried not to think about last night’s decision to escape with Caela.

“At least the runaway is willing to pay the price of freedom. You’re not,” she answered with equal fierceness.

“My sister is at the mines!” I was yelling now and got control of my temper again. “I wouldn’t leave without her.”