I lifted my aching head long enough to guess at which of the nearby rocks had struck me, but it didn't much matter. Any of them were large enough to have finished me off.
The scratch on my shoulder still burned, but less than before. Maybe in the chaos of fighting a griffin, it had seemed worse than it really was.
And I felt for the bulla around my neck, breathing easier once it was in my hand again. It was already hard to imagine myself without the bulla, which was absurd, of course. But it should be mine. I had claimed it from the bitter wind. From Caesar's ghost.
I wished I knew how much time had passed since the earthquake. Was it minutes, or hours ... or days? Was it worse on the surface, or had they even noticed it?
I heard breathing again and realized the griffin's warm body was right behind me. She must've dragged me away from the entrance after I fell, or else I'd have been buried there. Either she had nestled into me now, or somehow in this cold cave I had moved closer to her. She seemed to be asleep.
Being so close to a griffin should've horrified me, and my instincts should've begged for me to run. But they didn't. In fact, all I felt was the desire to stay close, as if this creature who had so recently threatened my life was now the only one who could save it.
Or more likely, thoughts like these had been the beginnings of Fidelius's madness. If I moved carefully, maybe I could find a way out of here without disturbing her. But then what? Another cautious peek made it clear that the opening from where I'd come had collapsed. This room was sealed. And somewhere above us, more cracking sounds could be heard. I knew those creaks from other mine shafts that had failed and taken many good men with them. Whatever held the rest of this cave together was slowly crumbling to dust.
As slowly as I dared, I sat up, but I was only halfway to my feet when the griffin lifted her head. I backed up and raised my arms, a pathetic way to fend off another attack, but it was the best I could do in that moment.
She sniffed me, and I tried to convince myself it was only out of curiosity -- not hunger. If she had wanted to eat me, she'd had plenty of time for that while I slept.
"Listen," I said, continuing my ridiculous strategy of speaking in Latin to an animal that communicated in screeches. "There must be another way out. This cave isn't safe anymore. If you don't fly us out, we'll both be crushed when the rest of it collapses."
Caela cocked her head as if she understood me. If she could, then she probably also knew that I had told her a half-truth. Yes, the cave might collapse, and yes, she'd be crushed if it did. But flying me out of here wouldn't make any difference to her. I was absolutely irrelevant to her survival. If I was lucky, she wouldn't figure that out.
Before I dared get her help, I needed her to trust me. Or more important, I needed to trust her. So I started walking around Caela, brushing my hand along the black feathers of her neck, and then running my fingers through the short brown fur along the lioness half of her. Caela arched her back at my touch and I felt a rumble inside her. The lion was purring, and I dug my fingers deeper. She crouched lower, but did not lie down. Was she moving so I could better reach her, or inviting me to climb on her back? I took a deep breath and tried to shake any doubts from my mind. Maybe I was wrong, and the consequences for misjudging a griffin couldn't be good. But the cracking sounds were growing louder. I knew how my story would end if I did nothing.
I continued scratching her fur until I came to her other side. Then with a whisper to the gods for help, I grabbed the hook of her wing and swung onto her back. Would the gods help me now? For surely if anyone had ridden this griffin before, it was them. The wound she had given me protested my movement, but I ignored it. Being crushed by falling rock would hurt a lot worse.
I held on extra tight, expecting she would try to throw me off, but she didn't. Instead, she widened her wings and flew upward on a steep climb. Some mornings, as I prepared to delve deeper into the earth, I watched the birds soaring upward in the air. I often wondered what their journey must be like, so weightless, so powerful. But feeling it now for myself was so much greater than anything I had ever imagined. When we were as high as we could possibly climb, Caela arced around and then dove at a sharp angle toward the floor. Near the bottom, she straightened out and I was certain we were about to collide with the black cave wall. Only when we were upon it did I see the change in shadow. It was a tunnel, plummeting even deeper into the earth. Deeper wasn't what I had in mind.
Caela couldn't use her wings in here, but she had built up enough speed in the dive to carry us through the length of the tunnel. I noticed water building on the ground below us. It seemed shallow at first, but the longer we flew, the more there was. Eventually, she had no choice other than to fly directly into the water, which she seemed perfectly comfortable with. I was less enthusiastic about where we were headed. I had the swimming skills of a lead pipe, and wherever we were, I needed Caela's help now more than ever before.
From the first moment we went completely under, the water pressed in on my lungs like a vise. Caela was moving so fast that I could see nothing other than bubbles and blurry images, and could think of nothing but how fond I'd always been of air. After only seconds underwater, I was already in trouble, but finally I saw a light above us. We were heading to the surface, and just in time.
When we finally broke through, I was so breathless I nearly let go, but with a wide lake below us, that would hardly be helpful. Now that we were in open air, Caela slowed in her flight. She skimmed the lake's surface, letting one talon cut a line across the water.
I leaned my head against the back of her neck. "Thank you," I breathed. "Thank you."
Her gentle caw back at me wasn't angry anymore. Either Caela had become mine, or I had become hers. I didn't know why or how this had changed, or whether it would last. But for now, I didn't need an answer. This single moment was enough.
We were crossing Lake Nemi, called Diana's Mirror by most of the other miners. They had warned me never to look at it, and never to ask questions about Diana's temple, which I easily spotted on the hills of the opposite shore. I couldn't see why any of their warnings mattered. It was beautiful here, and the bulla glowed through the grip of my fingers. I took it as a sign from Diana that she approved.
As we flew back toward dry ground, I began to wonder again how much time had passed since I had first entered the cave, and what surely had happened since then. Radulf would've blamed Sal for the collapse of the cave entrance and probably punished him. In turn, Sal would punish the other miners for not making the entrance stronger. They'd report my death to Livia and then tell her not to mourn since she should've been expecting it.
Livia.
If it weren't for her, I would have begged Caela to keep flying forever. To a place without mines or chains or whips. Somewhere I had any chance for a future. If such a place still existed in this world, I knew Caela could find it.
But I wouldn't leave without Livia -- I had promised that to my mother, and it was a promise I intended to defend with my life. Left alone at the mines, Livia would be swallowed whole.
I wrapped one hand around the bulla again and pressed it to my chest. My heart seemed to beat just to get closer to it. Or maybe it was still beating because I was close to it. This was no ordinary bulla. I understood that now, though I couldn't figure out exactly what made it so different. Was it the reason I had survived when hit by that rock underground?
I had to return to the mines for Livia; there was no question of that. But if Radulf was still there, I would have to give him the bulla, and that infuriated me. I hated that Radulf would be able to take this from me. I hated that it would become his simply because he was a general and I was nothing.
Once I got back, I would give the bulla to Radulf, then beg him to fulfill his promise to take Livia and me to Rome. I would ignore what I had overheard of his threats to the empire, and pretend he hadn't smiled when I told him I might not return from the cave. Even if we were his slaves in Rome, it was better than working in the mines.
By now, Caela was flying us over a grassy knoll on the west side of the lake. The gray mines already seemed far away, only a memory of another life, another me. It was a good thing I had already decided to return for my sister, because if I hadn't, nothing else would've convinced me to go back.
Suddenly aware of how hungry I was, I began scanning the valley for any sign of food. As if the gods had granted my wish, almost instantly I spotted a large patch of wild strawberries, ones so fat and red I could see them from up here. How could they feed us nothing but tasteless crusts of bread each day when so much fresh fruit was this close?
"Put me down, Caela." I pointed out the strawberries. "Over there."