Wrath of the Storm (Mark of the Thief 3) - Page 50

One of many mistakes. It was a miracle that I had lasted this long. At least Livia would not have to see me now, or Aurelia.

I didn't want Aurelia to see me this way, that was definite. But I did want her to see me, especially now that I had spoken to Crispus and understood his feelings. I wished I had spoken to him sooner. I wished I had let her know my feelings, even if my situation had not changed.

I wished she were here.

I must have fallen asleep at some point or passed out. It was impossible to be sure. Either way, I awoke with a start when a woman said, "This might be your last chance to save me."

It wasn't just any woman's voice. Atroxia was inside my head again. Her crying had ended, but her voice was more desperate than before. She knew time was running out for me and, thus, for her.

"I owe you nothing," I mumbled. There was a bitter edge to my voice. "Go beg help from Diana and leave me alone!"

"Diana serves only her own interests, and the Mistress serves only Diana." Atroxia went quiet for a moment before adding, "I was wrong before, wrong about everything, including my loyalties. I was arrogant in my situation, believing that no harm could come to a vestalis. But I have to believe there is forgiveness for my crimes."

"Get your forgiveness somewhere else."

"You must ask the empire to forgive me, please!"

I snorted. "If the empire listened to me, do you think I'd be here right now?"

"Who are you talking to?" someone asked with a touch to my shoulder. Expecting Praetors, I jerked my arms toward me, but they were still bound in chains around the tree, so all I felt instead were the bruises that had settled into the muscles of my back. I cringed from the movement, and then in the darkness a face emerged.

Aurelia knelt beside me. "It's all right. It's only us."

Crispus was with her and had a large pitcher in his hands. When I had asked him for water, a cup would've been enough. He must have been gone for at least a couple of hours. I really was thirsty now.

"Atroxia?" That was all Aurelia needed to ask, and she didn't need my nod to know she was right. Even before she spoke, she had already begun digging into the same satchel that had once held her father's inheritance. I didn't know what was in it now.

"You shouldn't have come," I mumbled. Though I was glad she had.

"Hush." Crispus took the sliced edges of my tunic and ripped a larger hole into it, fully exposing my back.

Aurelia stifled a small cry when she saw the worst of my injuries, though she immediately began working with whatever items she had pulled from her satchel. I smelled something sweet, but that was as far as my curiosity went.

Beside her, Crispus poured me a cup of water. "I hope this takes care of your thirst. The rest of the pitcher is to get you washed." He helped me to drink, which cooled the burn in my throat that still remained from my screams during the lashing.

&n

bsp; "Eat this." Aurelia handed me a cracker sprinkled with some powder over some honey. The sweetness I'd smelled. "It's willow. It'll help with the pain."

I took it, as glad for something to eat as I was for the medicine.

"I'm sorry not to have anything better," she continued. "It's all we could get in a hurry."

"Where's Livia?" I asked. "Is she safe?"

"I used to have some hiding places for children trying to stay out of slavery. I hid her in one of those places. Both she and the amulets are safe."

"Thank you." I wanted to apologize for giving her the amulets in the first place, for putting her in so much danger. But an apology wasn't enough. Not unless it could include apologizing for our friendship, for my broken promises, and for all the heartbreak I'd caused her. She didn't deserve this. Nor did Crispus, whose mother had asked me not to be his friend any longer.

But before I could say anything, Aurelia hushed me and told me to lean forward.

I let my weight fall against the tree, keeping my back as straight as possible. Aurelia started by washing away the blood. Although I knew she was being gentle, it still hurt. I tried not to let it show, but finally, I could hold my breath no longer and I released a gasp.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's so bad, Nic."

"It could've been worse." I turned my head a little so that I could almost see her. I caught only a wisp of her hair, which was folded over one shoulder and hanging in soft waves from an undone braid. "You lit the fire on Aventine Hill, the one at Laverna's gate."

She sighed. "I can take credit for the act, but not the idea. That was Radulf's."

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
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