Wrath of the Storm (Mark of the Thief 3) - Page 7

"Atroxia will come down to me; I guarantee that." I was deliberately keeping my voice calm, so as not to panic either Caela or Crispus. "And once you rescue Radulf, you won't be alone. His magic will get you safely back to Rome."

"What about you?" Aurelia's brows were pressed close together, and a slight smile crept to my face. It shouldn't have -- what we were about to do was very dangerous. But I liked knowing she was concerned for me.

"I survived the collapse of a temple," I said. "I can survive the Mistress."

"You survived the collapse of a temple. Of course you did." Aurelia frowned. "Who talks like that? Who thinks like that?"

My grin widened, which no doubt annoyed her further. After she finished rolling her eyes at me, I motioned her over to Caela. Aurelia quickly glanced back at Crispus, who was tending to his horse, then pressed her hand over mine.

"Before Crispus and I leave, we need to talk." Her whisper was soft, but the intensity in her eyes made it feel like she had shouted.

My heart skipped a beat. "About what?"

Now her hand slid across Caela's back, scratching the fur the way I had been doing it before, letting the soft tufts brush between her fingers. But her eyes were on me. "About

us. About what happened before that temple collapsed. You and I --"

"There is no you and I. That was what happened before the temple collapsed." My words sounded bitter, which wasn't my intention. Or maybe it was.

She reacted by pulling her hand away, and I knew I'd hurt her feelings. But there was no chance to apologize. Crispus, seemingly unaware of our conversation, was cautiously approaching Caela from the other side, letting her sniff him. I started forward, ready to protect Crispus if necessary. He shuddered, no doubt wondering how it must feel to be crushed inside a griffin's giant beak. But Caela only crouched lower, allowing them to climb onto her back.

I put my hands on Aurelia's waist, helping her get on first. She stared at me while I did, and I tried to communicate my apologies that way, though I wasn't sure it worked. In a more perfect world, I would've climbed on behind her to see where in the empire we might go. But instead, I backed up to make room for Crispus. He sat closely behind her and put a protective hand around her for the ride. I looked away from them, unable to bear seeing them so near to each other.

"We'll save him," Aurelia said to me. "Just don't ... well, don't collapse any more temples over yourself."

"Be safe, Nic," Crispus added.

I nodded at them, then at Caela, prompting her to leave. Aurelia let out a joyous whoop as they soared high into the sky. I wished I could be up there, to share that moment with her.

But I had another job to do.

It began with me leading Callistus away to a grove of trees where I hoped he'd be safe. Callistus was uniquely strong and had magic of his own, certainly. But I didn't know how he'd fare against the Mistress, who possibly was mad in a way that rivaled Caligula, and I wouldn't take any chances.

Then I stood on the shores of the lake -- Diana's lake, a detail that did not escape my attention -- and faced the temple where the Mistress would be holding Radulf captive. Aurelia and Crispus were probably on the hillside, hiding and waiting for their opportunity to enter the temple. I had to call the Mistress away.

So I closed my eyes, searching for the place within me that had heard her cries before. Atroxia's sadness had pierced me in much the same way as when I'd heard Radulf's pleas for help. They were both in tremendous pain. But it wasn't only Atroxia's voice in my head anymore. As the Mistress grew in power and dominance, I felt her anger too, a rage that she had been funneling toward Radulf for the past ten days. Strangely, and maybe for this one time only in his life, Radulf was innocent. He was paying for crimes ... that were mine. I had stolen the Malice, not he.

I used the Malice now to call to the Mistress. I spoke the words aloud, but almost under my breath. It was enough. She would hear me.

"I'm here, Atroxia," I said, using her human name, not the title given to her by Diana. "If you want the Malice, come and get it."

I heard nothing in return, only a shift in the breeze that told me she had heard. And that she was coming.

My heart pounded, and I brushed my sweaty palms against my tunic. The Malice was still tied tightly around my forearm, nearly overwhelming me with its power. If it had not been for the bulla giving me its extra strength, I never could've contained all the magic inside me.

I wanted to send some sort of message to Radulf as well, to tell him to hold on for just a few minutes longer. But I didn't dare. Above all, the Mistress could not know this was a rescue attempt and certainly could not know Crispus and Aurelia were so near to Diana's temple. She had to believe this was only about fighting me.

But did she believe that? Where was she?

I closed my eyes again to call her, hoping to come up with a taunt that brought her here even faster. What would it take? Perhaps if I told her she was the ugliest dragon I'd ever seen. Or that her fire breath smelled of sardines.

The taunt wasn't necessary. Nor had it been a good idea for me to even think about her fire breath.

I felt its heat before I opened my eyes. And when I did, I saw a huge swath of the hillside suddenly light up with smoke and flame, igniting the Mistress's path toward the lake. I stumbled back, shielding my face from the heat, and saw the dragon swoop through the flames it had created. The smell was not of sardines. It was death, and I was the target.

"Thief!" the dragon roared. "You stole my Malice!"

"It belongs to Mars, not to you!" I shouted back, as if it was somehow better to have stolen from a god.

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
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