Wrath of the Storm (Mark of the Thief 3) - Page 15

Radulf suddenly arched his back and began coughing violently. I pulled my hand away from my mother's and pressed him back down to his bed.

"I need you both to leave," I said. "Please, just let me concentrate on him."

"Your father died because of a single mistake, and with magic far less powerful." Mother rose to her feet. "Even if you think you can succeed, for my sake and Livia's -- make the right choice. Destroy that Malice."

I heard her, but turned away to focus on Radulf. Or maybe I turned so that I didn't have to acknowledge that my mother might be right.

"Let's go." Aurelia held out a hand to my mother, who left without another word. After a moment, Aurelia followed, shutting the door behind them.

Free of any distractions, I used the Divine Star to find the injuries inside Radulf's body and heal them one by one. The Mistress had been thorough, and cruel. If he was still alive after all this time, it was only because she had wanted that. Without magic, he never would've made it.

And now his magic was completely gone. I knew that, because I could feel its absence. I could restore the little life he had left, but nothing in my power would return what had been stolen from him.

I reached one hand over his shoulder and pressed against his Divine Star. Mine always sparked in the presence of magic, and I hoped his would do the same, as proof of even a small remnant of his powers. But nothing was there, and it might never return. At least he was alive. Without magic, I doubted he'd care that he had survived. He'd say I had failed him. And in some ways, he'd be right.

By evening, I was leaning against a wall to rest when Radulf finally stirred. He angled his head to see me and mumbled, "Ten days. What took you so long to come?"

"I was stuck."

He harrumphed, then said, "You must have the Malice, or else I wouldn't be here."

I walked closer to him and, when his eyes opened, showed him the amulet wrapped around my arm.

"It's so much more beautiful than the false one ever was." A faint smile crossed his lips. "You should've seen the Mistress's fury when she realized what I had was fake. She --" Now the smile disappeared. "Well, she was displeased."

"What did she do to you ... ?" I had almost ended that sentence with "Grandfather."

"You healed me," he said. "You must have some idea."

I did, and it was awful. She would have shown him cruelty that knew no limits, a depth of torture that had been intended for me before he tricked her. "The Mistress is trapped beneath Lake Nemi," I said. "In Caesar's cave, where the bulla was found."

"Sooner or later, she'll find a way out." Radulf swallowed hard, and I offered him a drink. After he accepted it, he lay back down and mumbled, "She wants the Malice, but she needs you to make it work. She'll do whatever it takes to force you to make a Jupiter Stone."

I glanced back at the doorway, half expecting to see my mother in its frame, reminding me of the price of using magic. She wasn't there, but her warning still echoed in my ears.

The stone that I'd hidden in the oak tree was missing, and I was becoming increasingly sure that the Mistress must have it, locked in a claw as she searched for an escape from Caesar's cave. All the more reason to never set her free.

"I won't help her," I said.

He continued as if he hadn't heard me. "The Mistress knows you can call in a storm. She'll convin

ce you to make one, all the while claiming that you're protected by the bulla and the Malice. It'll be a lie, Nic. When it's over, she'll have the stone -- the power of Jupiter himself. You won't survive it."

"I won't make the stone," I said. "No matter what she says or does."

"She believes there's a way to make you do it. She told me that herself." He motioned for more water, which I gave to him. After a long rest, he said, "I was wrong all this time. I was arrogant and believed magic made me invincible. My greed prevented me from seeing things clearly. Forgive me."

"Magic is not good or bad, sir. It's only what we do with it."

"And what is done to us. What will be done to you before this war is over." With a faltering hand, he reached out and touched the Malice on my forearm. "You must destroy this amulet. It won't break the Mistress's curse, but it will set you free. It's the only way to save yourself."

"If the curse isn't broken, the dragon remains. What she'll do to Rome --"

"Is not our problem." He drew in a slow, pained breath. "Nic, trust me. Destroy that Malice, or things will grow worse for all of us."

"I don't know how to do it."

"Promise me that you will find a way. And that you will never quit trying until you succeed."

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
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