Mark of the Thief (Mark of the Thief 1) - Page 19

"He said he would crush this empire in his fist. Does that sound like loyalty to you?"

Felix pressed his lips together and frowned. "This will be our plan, then. Keep that bulla until after the games in two days -- I suspect you'll need it to control the griffin. But after the games, I must ask you to present it to the emperor. It will save your life, and save all of Rome."

I clutched the bulla even tighter. I had stolen it from an emperor and no doubt it should be returned to an emperor. But if there was truly magic inside it, then I was starting to suspect it had begun to run through me as well. I couldn't separate myself from the bulla any more than I could divide the two halves of my body.

Felix, however, seemed to consider the matter settled. He glanced out his small window and said, "It's getting late. We'd better get you back to the venatio before anyone begins asking questions."

He returned me to the ramp leading underground and sauntered away as if all was well. As if we didn't just have a conversation that I knew in my heart would change my life, and possibly the fate of the entire Roman Empire.

Somehow, no matter how tired I already was, I doubted I would get any rest that night.

As expected, it was a long night. I stayed right outside Caela's cage, talking softly to her whenever she stirred, and assuring her everything would be all right, though by now I knew otherwise. While she slept, I began fitting together an escape plan, a solution for everyone. If I left Rome with the bulla, Radulf would never get it from the emperor, and the emperor could not take it from me. And I would save Caela's life.

Admittedly, a few details still escaped me. I needed a way to go back for Livia, which would be dangerous. Beyond that, how was I to free Caela from her locked cage? Although she had already torn the gold nugget free from its chains, the thick metal bars would be too much even for her.

By morning, my plan was no clearer than it had been the night before. I was put to work feeding Caela and then assigned to feed some of the other animals too. Although I had doubted it was possible, the tunnels smelled worse than they did the day before. I asked about mucking out the animals' cages, but the older workers said it would be easier after the games. I knew what that meant and it made me sick to my stomach.

I spoke to each animal as I fed it and was surprised to find each one looking directly back at me. I'd never seen animals behave this way before. Either that, or they had never behaved this way to me. The animals weren't given much food -- they were supposed to arrive in the arena hungry, and mean. When nobody was looking, I added to their rations. Especially to Caela's. If I had to handle her, she was the last animal I wanted to be hungry.

After morning chores, Felix appeared and motioned me over, almost like he was in a panic. His face was lit with anger. "How does the Senate know about you?" he sputtered. "I've told nobody but the emperor, and he's told nobody at all. Who did you tell?"

"Nobody!" And I didn't particularly appreciate his accusation, considering that I was the clear loser should anyone find out about the bulla. "What happened?"

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.

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
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