Mark of the Thief (Mark of the Thief 1) - Page 49

It was the third bargain I had made today, and all of them had been necessary. By the end of this, Rome would be safe, my magic would be strong, and Livia and I would walk away as free persons. Or I would be dead. None of it would be easy, and maybe it wasn't even possible. But I was committed now.

Valerius put a hand on my shoulder. Instinctively, I jumped away from it, and he raised both arms to show me he wasn't posing a threat. "I can see how tired you are, how much the bulla is weighing you down," he said. "Sleep tonight, and we'll talk more in the morning."

I let him lead me from his office, but stopped in the doorway and said, "Does Radulf know Horatio supports him?"

"There are only two kinds of Romans," Valerius said. "Those who support Radulf, and those he intends to destroy. For that reason, Radulf assumes everyone supports him." He nodded toward the bulla on my chest. "In you, we finally have an answer to Radulf's powers. Trust me, Nic, if I could use the magic, I would grant your freedom myself. But that bulla is useless in my hands. At least in yours, the empire has a chance."

The way he said it, my task seemed so big. No, it was so big. I had proposed a plan to move mountains, when I still lacked the ability to move a fistful of dirt.

"Things will look brighter tomorrow. You need sleep."

I needed practice. Radulf had told me that magic was a muscle, and it was true that I was feeling it more every day. But learning to control it was an entirely different matter.

"What about Aurelia?" I asked. "The girl who came with me?"

"She'll have her own room. She will be treated as a lady here. I promise you that."

After a moment's hesitation, I followed him to a bedroom directly across from the atrium. Once he'd left, I examined the room more carefully. There was a table in one corner with a bowl of olives that I immediately ate, despite not being particularly hungry. An actual book lay on the table too, though the words were too difficult for me. More important, a real bed stretched along the far wall. Even before the mines, when my mother kept Livia and me in hiding from the slavers, we never had beds. For months, we traveled anywhere that seemed safe, away from Gaul, and certainly away from Rome. We slept in the woods, sheltered by trees, or in the corners of barns. If I'd ever had a real bed, I didn't remember it. Now I walked closer and stroked the mattress. It was so thick with feathers that I wondered if it might swallow me up once I lay upon it. So I didn't. I grabbed the light blanket from on top of the mattress, and then lay down on the hard floor, where I felt more comfortable. With my cheek on the cool concrete, I faced out the doorway, staring at the moonlight, which still poured into the atrium through the overhead window.

Radulf and I both had the Divine Star, which made me think we had the same magic. The difference was that he understood his better. Or, more accurately, understood it at all, and that gave him a huge advantage over me. On the other hand, I had the bulla, which contained magic Radulf did not have. If I learned to use its powers, Radulf would have no answer to them.

So it was up to me to figure out the magic I already had, and for that, I had to know if Valerius was right, if there was magic in me apart from the bulla.

After listening to be sure the home was quiet, I removed the bulla and set it on the mattress, then stood and concentrated on the mark of the Divine Star. As I made myself conscious of it, the tingling was so sharp that I could almost define its shape just from which parts of my shoulder had come alive.

I focused on what I felt there, letting the mark smolder like a tired fire. Then I willed it to travel down my right arm, which still bore the injury from the soldier's arrow. I felt the magic gather around the wound, but rather than create heat, as the bulla did, it felt more like water passing over and under my skin, soothing the sting there.

But the magic wasn't finished. It breezed down my forearm and finally collected in my fingers and palm, so much that when I tried squeezing my hand into a fist, I felt resistance from the magic. It was similar to the feeling from the bulla, but this magic was waiting for me to act, rather than trying to escape without my permission. I felt the desire to release it from my fingers, but when I did, all that came was a brief snap of air, like an exhaled breath, and then it was gone.

The disappointment tasted bitter in my mouth. A casual whistle produced more power than I had created with the whole of my concentration. There was magic in me, but it was completely useless. If the bulla gave me far too much power, then the Divine Star offered too little.

Except that Radulf's voice slithered into my head again. "So you're experimenting with Caesar's mark. I felt the shift in the air, you know, such as it was. And I will use it to find you."

"I hope you do." My voice shook when I spoke, not from fear, but from the fierce ache his presence created. "But you'll regret the day you find me."

He laughed, which rattled into my bones. "I doubt that very much. You see, I won't come to reconnect a few mossy pipes. I will come with real power that you cannot fight, even with that bulla."

I snatched the bulla and quickly put it back around my neck. Maybe Radulf wasn't here, and didn't have any way of getting at the bulla right now, but maybe he was. I wouldn't take the risk.

Radulf had only one thing more to say. "Or you could join me, Nic. Help me build a new empire, one in which your life matters. That's what your sister wants you to do."

"Do you have her?" I cried. I raised my hands, ready for a fight if that was what he wanted. But how was I to fight someone who wasn't even here? And how could I pretend to have any chance of winning?

Aurelia appeared in the doorway. "Who are you talking to?" At first, I barely looked at her. Radulf's words still thundered inside my head, confirming my worst fears about Livia, and every suspicion I had about his evil nature.

"I have her," he said. "But for how long? Don't fight me, Nic."

"Nic!" Aurelia called my name, her voice now filled with more obvious concern. I turned to her and drew in a breath of surprise. Aurelia had been given a long tunic made of fine linen, and her hair was freshly washed and fell in loose waves over her shoulders. She cleaned up even better than I would've guessed. "You've gone pale," she said. "Are you all right?"

I wasn't. Though my breathing was beginning to slow, my heart still pounded against my chest. Radulf wasn't there any longer, but he'd left an echo of himself behind, like the chill that lingers after a storm.

Aurelia stepped even closer and put her hands on my face. "You're in a cold sweat. Tell me what's wrong."

"No," I said, backing aw

ay. "Tell me if I can trust you. Please, make me believe that I can, because every time I try, I think of our bargain, and I remember that all you care about is the reward you'll get from Horatio."

"That bargain is over." The disappointment in her tone was obvious. "While you were talking with Valerius, he had Crispus pay me six hundred denarii, as his reward for bringing you here. He said they'd help you find your sister too, so I could leave if I wanted."

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
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