Rise of the Wolf (Mark of the Thief 2) - Page 49

I removed the bulla and set it at my feet before continuing. With too much magic, I risked exploding the stables -- highly undesirable -- and besides, I wanted to practice with the Divine Star. Then I stood back from the stables, raised my arms out wide, and sent magic to every stall for which I was responsible. They spewed out their waste and old hay like vomit, and it was no small thing to avoid being hit.

It tired me, but less than before. My strength for performing magic was returning again. It was better than ever, though, because I was less dependent on the bulla than when I'd first taken it.

I stood back to admire my handiwork and felt only a twinge of regret that I hadn't done this earlier. Or admittedly, I felt a lot of regret. This hadn't been the best use of my time. Not when so much was required of me over the next couple of days.

With my remaining magic, I attempted another trick of light, similar to what Radulf could do. Back when he and I had fought outside the catacombs, he had tricked me by making me believe Livia was there too. He claimed it wasn't difficult magic, though I'd always felt he only said that to insult me. Nevertheless, I needed to be able to do it.

I chose to practice with Aurelia's image. Not only because it was easy to picture her, but because if I made a mistake and actually brought her here, that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

I raised my hands and let everything fade around me except for the empty space of air where I wanted her to be. I saw Aurelia in my mind as clearly as if she was right in front of me. I pictured her chestnut hair, not the fancy braids given to her by the servants in her father's house, but the simpler look of wearing it straight down her back. Next came her eyes, constantly on fire for whatever I'd done lately to irritate her, and the compassion and caring that lay deeper within them. I saw her smile whenever she was truly happy. If there was magic in the mark on my shoulder, then there was magic in her smile as well. It was different, but in many ways far more powerful.

Slowly she faded into view, almost. It wasn't her, but it was very close, and if a person didn't look too carefully --

Footsteps sounded behind me, and I leapt for the bulla and quickly put it on again. I glanced back at where the image of Aurelia had stood, but nothing remained. An instinctive rush of magic passed through me, but it wasn't necessary.

A few of the red faction charioteers had come. We were all on the same side of any race. Or at least, we had been until now. They didn't look particularly happy.

The strongest of our drivers was Theon, a Greek who fought whenever Radulf called him into battle and who had allowed me to ride with the red faction. He let me race with them, but that didn't mean Theon liked me.

"I've just been told that Radulf has entered you in the first race for the Ludi Romani," Theon said.

I didn't like the tone of his voice, but still I nodded.

Theon exchanged unfriendly looks with the other charioteers. There were many races throughout the year, but the first race of the Ludi Romani was considered prestigious. If Emperor Florian had been in Rome, he would've presided here, along with attendance from foreign guests, high officials, and a quarter million other Romans who'd been waiting all year for this event. Every charioteer wanted to ride it, and Radulf had just given me one of the three slots our faction was allowed.

"If General Radulf wants you to race, then there isn't much I can do about that," Theon said. "But you won't ride with a red tunic."

"I have to!" I protested. Ultimately, each charioteer raced for himself, and he alone took the winnings of his race. But the factions were also there to help one another and to protect against abuses of the rules, such as what had just happened to me with the whip in the practice race. Whoever the Praetors chose as my opponent, he would have a faction determined to stop me. For my own protection, I needed to ride with a faction too.

"You race for yourself, and for yourself alone." Theon's eyes narrowed. "From what I'm told, you'll be racing for your life."

"I race for Rome," I said. "Because if I lose, then everyone loses."

Theon chuckled and stepped toward me again. "Why is that, magic boy? You wave your hand and destroy whatever you want, then look around for people to cheer you for it, as if you've served this empire."

I wanted to wave magic toward him right now, that was certain. But I held it in, and held my place.

"Let me ride with a red tunic," I said. "When I win, the red faction can take my earnings. I don't want them."

Theon scowled, then rushed forward and shoved me against a stall door with his forearm butted against my neck. I gasped for air and grabbed his arm to buy some breath, but I wouldn't do anything more. These were my own teammates, or were supposed to be.

"Do you think we care about the earnings?" Theon asked. "We care about our lives, Nic. You have some powerful enemies, and it's not worth their threats to keep you in our faction."

"Who threatened you?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. Brutus was obviously behind this.

"It doesn't matter; you're not one of us anymore," Theon said. "If you show up at the circus with so much as a red thread woven into your cloak, I will make it my purpose to end your race on the first lap. What happened to you earlier today will be nothing compared to what I'll do."

I needed air, so I kicked him, and though he released me, he also swung back and connected his fist to my eye. I reeled backward while stars appeared in my vision, and shook my hands to release some of the pressure of the magic.

The rest of the team took that as a sign I was intending to fight and rushed at me. I raised a shield long enough to say, "I'm sorry they threatened you. I'm truly sorry for that."

Then I closed my eyes and pictured Radulf's home, though in the moment all I could see was the small pool in his atrium. I let the magic grow in me until I could feel the pool's water, and my feet on the tile floor, and the smell of the sweetbreads Radulf was so fond of eating.

The fire light for the stables dimmed in my vision.

"What's he doing?" Theon asked.

I never heard their answer. For only seconds later, I opened my eyes inside Radulf's atrium. It was the first time I'd successfully accomplished this trick, and Radulf was right. It was easier than I had thought.

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
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