Wrath of the Storm (Mark of the Thief 3) - Page 69

Perhaps what I hated most about the vestalis's cryptic messages were the double meanings they often contained. This one was perhaps worst of all.

Did the vestalis mean that I had to lose? Or was there something more in her words? What if the vestalis meant that to win this fight, I would have to lose ... Aurelia? Where had the stag taken her?

When her next breath came at me even hotter, I immediately called out, "I offer you a bargain, Mistress, one I'm sure you will not refuse. Tell me where Aurelia is. Let me save her, and I'll do as you ask."

"You will free me from this cave? You will use the Malice to bring in a storm?"

"Yes," I said, feeling an entirely new weight press in on my chest. "After Aurelia is safe, I will bring in the storm."

"The girl can still be useful," the Mistress said. "She will watch as you make the stone. But she should not worry about you, Nicolas. You will be protected by the bulla and that Malice. You will survive the storm."

It was exactly what Radulf had warned me she would say. He also warned it was a lie.

Her great snout turned down to me next, and behind it, eyes like the brightest sunset shone through each smoky breath. "I order you to free us from this cave."

We wouldn't go through the water again. It was difficult enough to keep myself balanced on the back of a dragon while underw

ater -- the only way I'd held on last time was because my arms were wrapped around her throat. This time, we would fly.

Once she had released me, I raised a shield and then shot magic directly overhead, piercing rocks and hard-packed dirt and roots embedded deeply in the ground. They fell near me, but thanks to the shield, I was protected.

After the last of the debris had fallen, I said, "I've obeyed your first order; now you obey mine. Tell me where Aurelia is."

Low-pitched laughter erupted from deep within the dragon's belly. "That was the purpose of releasing us from this cave. I'm going to take you to her."

"Where is she?"

"She is in the place where you will make the storm. She is waiting for you."

She gathered me into one claw, crouched low, and then shot upward toward the open skies. In normal circumstances, I'd have rather continued fighting her on the shores of Lake Nemi than wherever she was taking me. But nothing about this was normal. I had to get to wherever Aurelia was, and do whatever it took to protect her. Beyond that, it suddenly seemed like a very good idea to preserve my magic for what would be our ultimate battle over a storm I had just promised to create.

From the uncomfortable angle in which I was being held, I wasn't certain exactly where the Mistress was taking me, though I knew we were headed back to Rome.

Where would we go?

There would've been advantages to fighting on the shores of Lake Nemi. At least, no other people would be in danger around us, and there would be no one to see me fall in the end, to talk about how pathetic my last moments were. I could go into the history books as a myth, as someone who was once said to have had great powers, but which couldn't be real, considering how easily it all ended. That's what they'd say, if they remembered me at all. I preferred that.

It didn't matter anyway. We were clearly returning to Rome, and I started ticking off in my mind the possible locations the gods would choose for creating a storm. Either the amphitheater or the circus gave me the most space, and even if games had been held there earlier in the day, they were likely empty now.

I didn't want to go anywhere in the forums. There were too many people, and too many obstacles for me to hope for a clean shot at taking hold of a lightning bolt.

Taking hold of a lightning bolt? The idea of such a thing turned my stomach. This was madness at its finest.

No, that wasn't the plan. I had to stick with what I had offered the Mistress, and do nothing more. I would only create a storm. I had safely done it before, and I could do it again.

Although this time, there would have to be lightning. It was foolish to pretend otherwise. No, it was foolish to be in this position in the first place. My stomach leapt into my throat.

"How far will you go to save the girl?" Was that Atroxia's voice, or the Mistress's?

"Let me speak to Atroxia," I said.

"Atroxia is weak," the Mistress said. "She is flawed and fearful. Without me, she would have died long ago."

Without magic, I would've died too. Nothing was particularly special about either of us. We were simply two humans in extraordinary circumstances, who both had committed more than our share of crimes.

"I hate her weakness," the Mistress added.

I'd never heard weakness in Atroxia before. There was fear, yes, but who wouldn't be afraid in her situation? She must've been very young when she fell in love with Marcus Brutus, probably not much older than me, and I knew how my feelings for Aurelia often shifted everything upside down in my head.

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
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