Wrath of the Storm (Mark of the Thief 3) - Page 13

I followed her voice, checking along the way that the tunnel truly had emptied of all Praetors. There was no way to be completely sure -- Praetors had a way of disappearing like bats in a cave -- but I saw nothing to arouse my suspicions.

Finally, a dim light appeared ahead, in a small room off to one side of the tunnel. I walked in and first saw the shackles attached to the stone walls, too high above the floor for Radulf to have stood there. He would have hung from these chains.

Then my attention went to Aurelia, sitting on the ground beside Radulf, whose body was stretched out on its side as if he were asleep. I knew it wasn't anything as peaceful as that, though. His eyes were closed, and I couldn't tell whether he was breathing. Possibly not, for I could hardly find a place on his body that didn't bear some sort of visible injury. If that was what I could see, I well imagined the wounds he bore on the inside too.

"Is he ... alive?" I whispered.

Aurelia shrugged. "His pulse is so faint, I might be imagining it. Can you heal him?"

I licked my lips, then walked over to Radulf and knelt beside him. I felt for the Divine Star at his back, but nothing sparked beneath my touch, as it should have. Then I bent lower to listen for any breath. Maybe there was something, or maybe it was just the air moving in the room.

"Help me roll him onto his back," I said, and Aurelia quickly did. Then I placed my hand, palm down, directly over Radulf's heart, and began pouring into his chest every bit of magic I could. I had to be careful not to give too much; that would be like curing a man's thirst by dumping him in the ocean. But I needed enough to help him hold on to what life might still remain within him, even if it was the faintest beat.

"You save his life and destroy mine?" Atroxia cried into my head. Her desperation hit me like a rogue wave. "I am no worse than he is. Save me too, please."

I released Radulf long enough to put a hand on the side of my head and catch my breath. I hadn't expected to hear the young vestalis so far from where she was entombed. And I didn't like what she had to say. I wasn't the judge of her crimes, I wasn't the one who'd sentenced her to such a terrible fate. And regardless of who she believed herself to be, I knew her as the Mistress. That was justification enough for what I'd done.

"Don't stop yet. He needs you." Aurelia pressed her hands over mine and returned them to Radulf. She kept them in place, and even moved toward me as if her closeness would help.

It didn't. Aside from the fact that she was a growing distraction to my every thought, she was also promised to Crispus, as she had to be. That promise had just saved her life, and she didn't seem to even know it.

"Move back," I whispered. I didn't want her to. But the longer her hand remained over mine, the more I wanted to hold it, and then to hold her. Didn't she understand the effect her presence had on me? "Please, Aurelia."

She nodded and hid the sadness on her face as she released my hands and scooted away. They felt cold in her absence, but warmed as they filled with magic again, all of which I gave to Radulf. He was still unmoving on the ground, far more dead than alive.

"Where is Crispus?" Aurelia asked. "Didn't he come back with you?"

"We'll meet him in Rome." Though I couldn't say whether it would be as a friend or as an enemy. After she was his wife, Aurelia would become the same, my friend or my enemy. It really didn't mat

ter which. She still had the ability to crush my heart in a way that Brutus, or even the Mistress, never could.

As I continued working on Radulf, I felt strength draining from me, just as it always had before, but the Malice was replenishing it just as quickly. Once I trusted the Malice to keep the magic inside me balanced, I knew I could concentrate instead on trying to reach Radulf's mind.

"I'm here," I told him.

Nothing came in response. It made me think of when I had tried to heal Crispus's father, giving him every bit of magic within me. There had been no response then either. I'd been too weak to heal Valerius.

Was it the same now?

"Save my life too," the Mistress said. No, it was still Atroxia speaking, the human. I knew that, because in a quieter, softer voice, she added, "Break this curse upon me, please."

"We have to leave this temple." If I was going to save Radulf, we had to get farther from the lake. "There are too many distractions here."

"What distractions?" Aurelia asked. "It's only the three of us here." Then she drew back from me again. "Oh, I'm the distraction."

She was -- that was true -- though it wasn't at all what I had meant. But she leaned forward, still keeping herself at a distance from me. "If we disappear from this place, can your grandfather survive the journey?"

I sent more magic into him. "If you die, then I'll win," I told Radulf, sounding as arrogant and bullheaded as I could, the tone that would irritate him the most. "Everyone will say that I was stronger than my grandfather."

He grunted, or I thought he did. Whatever it was, there had been some sign of life from him.

"Nic, you fool," he finally mumbled.

"You are a fool." The Mistress's anger seared its way into my head. "When I escape this cave, you will pay for what you've done."

Radulf's visible wounds were beginning to heal, but I knew that things were far more serious on the inside. Without the Malice, I'd never have been able to help Radulf get this far. Even with it, I was starting to feel drained. If we were going to leave, we needed to do it while I had enough strength for all three of us.

I stretched a hand out to Aurelia. "We're leaving."

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
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