Rise of the Wolf (Mark of the Thief 2) - Page 76

I released it in every direction I could, certain that the bulla was capable of penetrating the walls and giving me a way out. It had to be strong enough, for the same magic that had cursed this tomb also powered the bulla. One could not be stronger than the other.

Unless it wasn't Diana's magic. The Malice belonged to Mars, and Jupiter himself had ordered Atroxia to be buried here. If that was true, then this situation might be far worse than I'd realized. I was trying to counter magic that I couldn't even begin to understand and which was certainly far more powerful than me.

The Mistress was more powerful than me too. Surely she had attempted to escape this temple many times before and failed. I needed something stronger.

A sound like thunder began rolling beneath my feet, and then came a scream such as I never could've imagined. It tore through my head like fire, but also pierced my ears and into my heart, and I was certain the scream reached to the ends of the empire. I wanted to raise my hands to my ears to block it out, but my injured arm wouldn't help. There was nothing I could do but fall to my knees and let it echo throughout this room.

"Help me, please," I whispered to Radulf. But I knew already that he couldn't hear me. That within the closed doors of these temples, I was as isolated as she had been for almost three hundred years.

"It's been stolen!" a woman cried. "The Malice has been stolen from me!"

I crawled until I reached a temple wall and crouched as low as I could get. It wouldn't give me much protection, or really any protection, but I didn't know what else to do.

The Mistress was awake.

The thunderings that had begun at my feet were rising, shaking the floor and even the temple walls. The best of my magic had destroyed a wooden ladder, but nothing else I'd done had even left a scratch on the walls.

I was using the Divine Star to heal my wrist and it was having some effect with the pain, but I still couldn't move it or feel any magic in it. I had to heal it, and fast. I needed some way to fight against her.

Then the marble floor began to crack like it was at the center of an enormous earthquake. I expected the temple walls and ceiling to come down on me as well, but for now, only the floor was in danger.

I started to stand, although I had nowhere to go, but before I could get to my feet, the floor crumbled beneath me.

I fell back into the catacombs amidst a heap of rubble and dust. If my wrist had been healed at all, it was worse now. My entire left arm where I had fallen felt like it was on fire.

"Nicolas Calva, why did you come here?" That was the Mistress's voice.

I didn't answer. Instead, I put up a shield and tried to do what I could for healing. Then I sent a little magic into the air, asking for light. I didn't need much, but at least I wouldn't be blind down here.

Brutus was supposed to be around here somewhere, and then I saw him unconscious in the corner of the room. Whether she had done that or pieces of the falling floor had hit him, I didn't know. But it was hard for me to feel any sympathy for him since he was the one who had caused this trouble.

As I had caused it too. I could not excuse myself so easily.

With my magic, the room had lightened enough to see the Mistress walking toward me. Her white robes had grayed, perhaps from natural aging, or from her corruption. But her face was that of a young woman. She had narrow eyes that sloped upward at the outside corners and her crimson hair was in a braided bun with ringlets on either side of her face. When she spoke, her voice was low and commanding.

"Kneel before me, Nicolas."

I shook my head as I stared at the ground. "You are beautiful, Atroxia, and I have great respect for your power. But I will not kneel to you."

She waved her hands, and I felt myself hurl backward through the ai

r and I crashed into the catacomb wall. Without the bulla, a collision like that would've knocked me unconscious too, and I almost wished that it had. Dirt crumbled behind me when I fell back to the ground, landing on both knees, one arm, and a partially healed left wrist that collapsed beneath my weight. The pain it caused made my head swim with dizziness.

"Where is the Malice?" she asked. "You stole it from me!"

"The Malice is gone," I said. "It's out of your control now."

If she was enraged before, then that made it worse. She flung her arms apart, and it felt as if claws had scratched my chest, though when I felt for blood, there was none.

"I will find it," she said. "Weak human, you cannot hide it from me, not for long."

I didn't need that long. Only enough time to get the Malice from Livia, and use the bulla to destroy it. After that, the Mistress would lose too much of her power to be any threat to me, or to Rome.

She hit me with something that punched against my gut. I felt the pressure, but not the pain from it, but then I realized pain had not been her intention. Whatever she had done had collapsed my shield. I scrambled to raise it again, but couldn't find it within me. And I would've fought back, except I needed to preserve my magic for one last attempt at destroying this temple.

Behind her, Brutus was beginning to stir. He raised his head and then slowly got to his knees.

"Get on your knees," he muttered to me. "Nothing else will save you today."

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
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