Rise of the Wolf (Mark of the Thief 2) - Page 79

"Nic, don't go back there alone!" she cried.

I turned. "I can't save your lives and mine. Run from here, please!"

Aurelia started to follow me, but Crispus put his arms around her and held her back, then they ducked into the vines. He wouldn't get her to leave; I knew that already, just as I knew Crispus would not leave without her. I hoped they would at least find a good place to hide.

Once I got to the field, the Praetors had grouped together, probably deciding whether they still had any strategy to defeat me and if it was worth it to continue the fight.

It wasn't.

"Surrender now!" I called to them. "It is your only chance to walk out of here alive."

"You cannot kill us all!" one man shouted.

"I don't intend to kill any of you," I replied. "But that does not mean you are safe. For the sake of your own lives, leave while you still can."

Another discussion started amongst them, with some obvious disagreements. But it didn't take long before a few men backed out of the group and hurried away, and then others followed, and more followed after that.

"Now you leave," Radulf said into my head.

"Only two days ago, you scolded me for refusing to fight," I said. "Now you'd have me leave?"

He drew in a breath, one I could hear in my head. "Nicolas, you are not entering a fight. This will be a slaughter. Listen to what is happening around you!"

And I did. The field was emptying of Praetors, and Crispus and Aurelia were out of sight, hopefully out of reach, so I took a moment and listened.

At first I had expected the sounds to be coming from the temple, or from the Praetors who'd refused to leave. But it wasn't -- these sounds were in my head, the same way as when Radulf spoke to me, or when I heard the crying of the Mistress.

But this time, it was laughter. Atroxia's harsh, wicked laughter, though the voice was deeper than before. She had growled at me then, in an almost inhuman way. Her laughter was even less human.

The fallen marble blocks were shifting from their place, from movement deep below the surface. Movement in the catacombs.

Atroxia was only a vestalis, one buried alive as punishment for supporting Caesar's assassination. That was who had cried, who had begged me to help her. But it was not who I heard now.

Diana's curse changed the vestalis into the Mistress. This was who Radulf feared, and who wielded the angry magic of a vengeful goddess. The Mistress was about to reveal herself to me once more.

The marble blocks burst from their resting place in a fierce explosion that rattled the skies themselves. I shielded myself to prevent any blocks from landing on me, and felt grateful for the shield already protecting Crispus and Aurelia. And it was a good thing, for I felt an impact over that way and knew the shield had been tested, and had held strong.

"Livia, run!" I cried. I didn't want to expose her presence here, but I couldn't find her anywhere and I needed to warn her away. My warning had come too late.

Emerging from the rubble, I first saw the end of a massive tail, as red as blood. It beat through the rocks to separate them, and as they did, the tail continued to stretch forth from the ground. Next a claw emerged from the rubble, each tip like a sword. It pressed against the ground to allow the head to rise up with a savage growl. I knew this creature. A draco. The dragons of Rome. Little different from the images engraved on the columns of Radulf's home.

The serpent's front teeth were as long as daggers and doubtless twice as sharp, and when she spat at me, saliva dripped from her fangs and smoke flared from her nostrils. Her eyes were yellow with slits of black that seemed as deep as the mine pits. Nothing about her seemed to ever have been human.

As she pulled herself to freedom, her second claw unfolded with Brutus in her clutches. She dumped him on the ground, where he immediately fell to his knees and praised her for rescuing him.

She turned to me and spoke as clearly and plainly as she had before, with the voice of the vestalis from the catacombs, but deeper and more commanding.

"There is Decimas Brutus, my servant. Do you see that I saved him from the fate that was nearly mine, that of being buried alive?"

"You should have left him there," I said. "He earned his fate by his betrayal of Rome. Just as you betrayed it."

"The Praetors have always served me, and in turn, I will always protect them. Join us, Nicolas."

I shook my head. "Not today, Atroxia." Not ever.

Fire spat from the serpent's mouth, setting everything around me aflame, including the vines. Crispus and Aurelia ran from the vineyard but were stopped by the shield I had created. Though it wouldn't make them much safer, I lowered the shield now to allow them a way out. Rather than run, Aurelia immediately fired off each of her arrows, searching for any weakness in the dragon's hide, but they were as useless as if she'd tossed feathers at the creature.

Crispus took Aurelia's hand and they ran safely away from the fire, but only to a worse problem. They were closer to Atroxia now.

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
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