Rise of the Wolf (Mark of the Thief 2) - Page 18

"I felt the same thing yesterday," I said. "When they grabbed me in the circus, all the magic within me vanished." A quick glance at Radulf's smirk reminded me that he had known all along I still had some magic. Quickly, I continued, "It took a few seconds after they let go before I could feel it again."

"We are stronger than the Praetors," Radulf said. "But they have far greater numbers. If they get hands on both of us at the same time, we are finished."

Two dracos were carved into the doorway of Radulf's house, intertwined as if in battle with each other. I took it as a warning against reentering.

Only yesterday, this home had been my prison, and just because I held the bulla didn't mean anything had changed between my grandfather and me. He'd stolen the bulla from me o

nce, and I wouldn't be able to trick him a second time.

He knew all this, so he shouldn't have looked so surprised when I stopped on the road in front of his house, refusing to go any farther.

"Don't be a fool," he said. "Do you really believe you're safer out here?"

"I'm safer from you. And your house won't protect me from the Praetors."

"My home is well guarded -- you know that as well as anyone. My guards will kill any Praetor who tries to enter, but here on the streets" -- Radulf grinned -- "much as I might want to, a hero of the Roman Empire can hardly go about shooting arrows at people just for walking past his home. It's unfriendly."

He missed the idea that once I was inside, he could more easily order his guards to shoot arrows at me. The bulla was mine again, and I knew that infuriated Radulf. If he saw even the smallest opportunity to steal it back, he'd take it. I knew that, because I'd fight just as hard to keep it.

I stepped back a few paces and shook my head at his invitation to enter. Valerius and Crispus had already betrayed me once, and obviously I could not trust the Praetors. But that didn't mean I had to trust Radulf.

My hand was on the bulla with my forefinger brushing over the griffin's image molded into the gold. If Caela were here, so many things would be easier. We could fly over Rome and search for my mother that way. I wouldn't have to worry about the Praetors getting too close. With Caela, it would be an easy thing to escape them. I thought about calling for her, just to see if she would answer.

"The griffin won't come," Radulf said, as if he had heard my thoughts. "Her task was to guard the bulla, but now that it's over, she's returned to the gods."

"My griffin would come if I called." Actually, I had no idea whether that was true, but I liked to say it.

"She was never yours," Radulf said. "It's arrogant to believe that an animal of the gods could ever belong to a human."

"Then I was hers!" I shouted. Radulf had never loved anyone or anything. He'd never understand. "If she were here, I wouldn't be within a mile of you right now!"

"But she's not here! No one is here to help you, except for me." Radulf reached for my shoulder, though I shook my head and pulled away when he did. "You must stop wishing that things were different than they are. Like it or not, you are a part of the Praetor War. The Praetors will never stop hunting you until they wring the key to the Malice from your fist. Or until you're dead." He drew in a slow breath. "And whether you like it or not, the truth is that I am your only chance of stopping them. Come inside, Nic, please."

"Let's talk about it now, right here."

He leaned in. "If you intend to defy the Praetors, then you need to know everything about the Malice. And about the Mistress who guards it for the gods. Do you want to learn these things from me, or from Decimas Brutus?"

"Who is the Mistress?"

He glanced around the street. "You cannot possibly expect me to discuss that out here."

My hand tightened around the bulla. "You'll steal this, take my magic again." I still cringed to think of when he had done it before.

"What I did is nothing compared to what the Praetors will do to get that key." Radulf smiled. "Besides, it appears that I'd have to kill you to take your magic entirely, and as you know, I need you alive to create the Jupiter Stone." He sighed, losing patience with me. "I give you my solemn vow. You may keep the bulla, for now. For some reason, I can't operate it anyway, and if the Praetors return, at least one of us should be able to destroy something with it."

"I don't have the key to the Malice."

"So you've said, probably a thousand times today alone. Stubborn boy, can't you see I'm trying to help you?" When I didn't respond, he said, "I have a gift for you in there, something I wasn't going to show you until the chariot races for the Ludi Romani next week. If you miss your griffin, you'll want to see this."

That tempted me, enough to finally give in and follow him inside. I knew there were several areas I had not been allowed to explore, so it was hardly a surprise that he might have secrets here.

We went through the atrium into his baths. I smiled when I saw how torn apart they were. Destroyed, really. Except for a few inches at the very bottom of the pool, the water was entirely drained out, and the concrete was missing large chunks. It was obvious where those chunks had flown up out of the water and crashed against his walls. Repairing this room would require almost an entire rebuilding.

"What happened here?" I didn't even attempt to sound innocent.

He laughed. "My grandson hasn't learned the proper use of a door apparently."

Even I had to laugh along with him, partially out of relief that I would not be punished for what I'd done. Looking at the destruction, I definitely deserved it.

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
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