Wrath of the Storm (Mark of the Thief 3) - Page 31

"I can't repay you for this," I said. "Not yet, at least, but I will."

She shook her head. "I don't care about that."

"Then how do I thank you?"

She stared at me a moment, biting on her lip as she did. Finally, she said, "Thank Sal if you must. You owe me nothing. Now take this. You said you were hungry." In her hands was a pear. A little underripe, but still good enough to eat. I placed it in the pocket of my tunic for later.

Then she backed away to Callistus and swung into the saddle, placing the satchel in front of her. Something was still bothering her, which concerned me, but I didn't know what it was and she clearly had no intention of telling me.

"Now where do we go?" I asked, climbing up behind her. It was equally obvious that Aurelia had a firm plan in place, and that I was only being allowed to come along since I had nowhere else to go.

"Crispus's home. He's planning a special supper tonight and wants me there."

I shrugged. "Am I invited too? He hasn't said anything to me about it."

She gave Callistus a pat on his shoulder, mostly ignoring me. "We'll see."

And this was what I'd meant by thinking that I did not speak girl. Her words had some sort of meaning. I just had no idea what it was.

We were welcomed into Crispus's home by his mother, who informed us that Crispus still hadn't returned from his business for the day. We already knew his business -- doing whatever was necessary to rescue Radulf from the courts. However, if he had a supper planned for the evening, then he should arrive soon.

Crispus's mother was a proper, nervous sort of woman who I'd noticed often held something between her fingers for distraction. Right now, it was an ivory comb that probably belonged in her hair. She glanced over my tunic with mild disapproval. Except for the tears in it from my explosion outside Radulf's home, and then the explosion of Radulf's home, there was nothing wrong with it, but it clearly wasn't fancy enough for whoever was coming to the supper. For that, I'd need a toga.

"Crispus's father had several," she said. "You can use one of his, if you don't mind wearing the clothes of someone who's died."

I did mind. Something in her expression blamed me for Valerius's death. Maybe I deserved that. I stared back at her while my heart pounded in my chest. Should I apologize to her? How could any apology possibly compensate for my failure to save him?

"Thank you," Aurelia said on my behalf. "Perhaps a servant can bring that toga to his room? I'd better go get ready too."

After Crispus's mother had left, I asked, "Who is coming tonight?"

Aurelia was making herself busy with anything that kept her from looking at me. "A friend of Crispus's family and nobody you'll know." Then she drew in a deep breath. "It'd be better if you weren't even here tonight, but since I know you won't sit quietly in your room, will you at least agree to sit quietly at the supper?"

"Can you tell me what this supper is for?"

She huffed, then said, "Crispus arranged this last night after he found out the Praetors' plans for Radulf. Crispus has always intended to do everything he could to clear him of the charges but knew it probably wouldn't work -- Brutus is far too powerful. So this is our other plan."

I pointed at the satchel in her hands. "What's in there?"

She shook her head, refusing to answer. "I don't want you trying to talk me out of this plan. Crispus already tried that, and you won't have any more success. You'll find out after everything is settled, not before." Then she disappeared deeper into the home, I assumed to the room that had been given to her whenever she stayed here. I suspected she had stayed fairly often. She'd never want to be in the same home as Sal, and besides, with her betrothal to Crispus, it wouldn't be unusual to see her here.

After an hour in my room, a knock came at the door. I opened it, expecting to see a servant with one of Valerius's old togas. I didn't have the first clue for how to wrap it around myself, but figured I'd be laughed at if I asked. Not nearly as much laughter if I didn't ask, I supposed. I needed help.

Except that it wasn't a servant, and I was horrified to see who had come. Livia.

Once I recovered from the shock of seeing her, I pulled her into my room and shut the door. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be on the carriage with Mother!"

Livia's eyes darted away, then back to me. "Don't be angry --"

"I am angry. Livia, you're not safe here!"

"Are you safe here? Did you consider how it felt to be told I was leaving the empire, then told I would have to leave you behind? Back at the mines, I protected you! When did I become so useless?"

My heart softened, as it always did with Livia. "You have never been useless. But when a million Romans decided they wanted my magic, and when an entire army of Praetors realized if they can capture you, they can get anything they want from me, things changed." I drew in a deep breath. "Things have changed, Livia."

She pointed to the Malice on my wrist. "I retrieved that for you. I kept it safe from all those Praetors, and from the Mistress! I can still help you win."

"No, you can't." Frustrated, I ran a hand through my hair. "I can't destroy the Malice, which means this magic will always be a part of me, which means I'll always be a target. I've got to find a way to save Radulf. After I do, I'll send you both up to Britannia, and this time you will go."

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
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