Wrath of the Storm (Mark of the Thief 3) - Page 11

"You are exactly where you belong," I whispered, hoping she would hear me. "And for as long as I have magic, you will stay there."

Whatever I was supposed to have learned from Atroxia was a failure. The old vestalis I had met was wrong. Atroxia had nothing to teach me about love.

I stood on the shores of Lake Nemi for several minutes, listening for anything else Atroxia might have to say. But she had gone silent. I was aware of her crying, but she wasn't intending for me to hear and it felt intrusive to continue listening.

When I turned to go, I scanned the hillside until I found Diana's temple, partially hidden by thick brush and the mountain itself. If Aurelia and Crispus had been successful in rescuing Radulf, then Caela would be back with them by now. Something had gone wrong. I needed to get up there.

"Callistus!" I called.

The unicorn ran out to greet me, and even before he halted, I leapt onto his back and we hurried toward the hillside.

But we weren't yet to the slope when Caela squawked overhead, a desperate caw that made me nervous. Where were Aurelia and Crispus? Where was Radulf?

Caela swooped low, directly above us, then pulled me off the unicorn's back and held me in her large talon as she flew up the hillside. Callistus turned down the hill again. When I last saw him, he was running with the horses Aurelia and Crispus had brought here. I hoped they would return to Radulf's home together.

As we flew upward along the hillside slope, we passed directly over the massive oak tree where I had hidden the Jupiter Stone. Almost immediately past that I saw the temple, yet there were no signs of life anywhere.

No signs of life. The worry in me deepened.

Caela arced over the temple, and then we headed to lower ground again. Before we got too far away, I pointed out a pile of hay that must have been set out for any horses that'd be left here while their masters were inside. "Drop me there!" I yelled to Caela.

She did drop me, but naturally missed the haystack. Instead, I landed on the worn trail near the grove, my head knocking against a rock that jutted out from the earth. Caela had yet to drop me anywhere soft. Perhaps there was a reason she had put me so near to the grove.

Once my head cleared, and despite my hurry, I scaled down to the trees to ensure the stone was still in its place on the lower limb of the great oak. I didn't know how many rocks in this world could be used to make a Jupiter Stone. Probably not a lot. Perhaps the rock I'd found was the only one, which increased my need to protect it. But when I checked, it was gone and didn't appear to be anywhere on the ground nearby, so I knew it hadn't just blown off in the wind.

Someone had taken it, which confused me. The vestalis and I were the only ones who knew what that rock was meant to become. So either it was taken by accident ... or someone else knew our secret.

"I know your secret," Atroxia said into my head.

And she had been here at this temple. Could the Mistress have shifted into her human form, as Atroxia, and retrieved the stone? Would Atroxia have done that? If Atroxia knew my secret, did the Mistress know it too?

I couldn't answer any of those questions, nor did I have the time to consider them now. I had to get back up to the temple immediately. I ran up the hillside, listening for any sounds in or out of my head. Surely, Radulf would know I was close ... unless the Mistress was telling the truth and had taken all his magic. He probably wouldn't have survived that.

Diana's temple was partially built into the hillside, yet had a grand portico to allow a fine view of the lake. However, I suspected that the scenery was rarely appreciated by temple worshippers. Not if the activities that went on in this temple were as dark as Crispus had suggested.

Unsure of what I'd face when I went inside, I hesitated a moment on the steps. The thick wooden door was heavy and forbidding, an obvious warning that anyone who took the trouble to open it had better be ready for whatever might happen inside. But before I walked any farther, Crispus pushed open that same door and came running out. He stopped as soon as he saw me, looking as surprised to see me as I was him. "I was just coming to find you," he said.

"What about Radulf?"

"He's here." Crispus furrowed his brow. "Come inside. Hurry."

I followed him in. Sconces with lit torches were on the walls, and a blackened altar was at the far end of the dark room with a place for a fire beneath it. I didn't want to know anything more of the ceremonies that took place here. I only wanted to find Radulf and leave as quickly as possible.

But that was not going to happen. Every entrance into the room suddenly filled with Praetors, dozens of them surrounding us. Crispus moved closer to me and withdrew his sword while my hands flooded with magic.

"Nicolas Calva, there you are at last!" That was Decimas Brutus, walking to the front of the group. He was the grandson of Caesar's murderer by several generations and looked as cold as if he had personally held that knife. Brutus was a tall man of incredible strength, and also someone capable of great cruelty. His hair was curly and black, but his eyes were blacker still, the rims of them seeming to be lined with soot gathered from the burned lands of Tartarus. "You're finally above ground, I see."

My wishes for him were suddenly more focused below ground, preferably with several feet of dirt over him.

"You wouldn't dare use magic here." He was watching my hands carefully for any movement. "What if this ancient temple collapsed, just as the last one did? You've proved your ability to survive something like that, but would Crispus? Or the sewer girl, inside the tunnels beneath this mountain? Or your grandfather? Surely you've guessed from Crispus's expression that his life hangs only by a thread."

"I can do plenty of damage without collapsing this temple!" I said.

"And I wish I could see your little magic games, truly I do." Brutus held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "But we didn't come here to fight." Though the light was dim, I noticed something held in his left hand. At first I expected it to be the missing stone, but instead it was some sort of armband. "Where is the Mistress, Nicolas? I can feel her, so I know you've left her alive."

"She is where she belongs," I said. "Paying for her crimes against Caesar, as Marcus Brutus should have paid for his." My eyes narrowed. "And as you must one day pay for yours."

Brutus only shot back an accusing smile. "We must all pay for our crimes, no?" Before I could answer, he shrugged that away. "But for as long as

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
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