I started to sit up, then kept my place. Perhaps this was the dream, and I was a dreamer after all. Perhaps I was only imagining that there had been enough magic within him to give him a faint spark of life.
I raised my free hand to his chest and gently felt for a heartbeat. If it was there, I couldn't feel it, but his chest was rising and falling. Only a little. I wouldn't have even noticed if I had not been so close beside him. But he was alive.
He was alive!
I wanted to sit up and scream out his name and tell him he was alive, just in case he didn't know. But I wondered if suddenly hearing his name screamed out in this echo chamber of a building would actually frighten his heart into stopping again. I couldn't take the risk.
So I kept my hand where it was, counting every rise and fall, and waiting between the long pauses for it to rise and fall again. It was so faint, so shallow, maybe I was imagining it. But there, it rose again, a little better this time! It was real!
The reddish scars were still on his arms, and also on his neck, I noticed. The delicate branches imprinted onto his skin were beautiful in their own way. I wondered if they'd ever fade.
We lay there for some time. He remained asleep, or half-alive, or whatever he was. I was afraid to move in the slightest, lest anything get worse. But something would have to change soon, when the worshippers arrived. What then?
I decided to wait as long as possible, letting him rest and gather strength. If necessary, Caela and I would defend him once people started to come. I had a reason to defend him now.
Where was my bow? I'd dropped it when the Mistress lunged for me, and the rainwater must've washed it into one of the alcoves. I wanted to find it, but I wouldn't leave Nic alone, not even for that long.
How odd it was to realize that the people of Rome might never know what he had done to save the empire, or even the world beyond it. Last night, Nic had halted a rebellion of the gods. He had stopped a war here on earth and in the heavens.
Maybe that was why he had asked me to tell his story. So that people would understand why everything had to happen the way it did.
"Wake up," I whispered into his ear. "Wake up and tell your own story. I'm a terrible storyteller, you know that."
He stirred a bit, though my soft whispers couldn't have been enough to wake him. His arm tightened around my shoulder, and his fingers twitched a little.
"Nic?" I was louder this time.
He didn't move.
"Nic?"
"Shh." His whisper was so quiet, I barely heard it.
Still, I smiled, and sat up on one elbow. "Don't tell me to be quiet."
"Then hush."
I wanted to nudge him, just to tease him back. But I realized perhaps it hadn't been a tease at all. He was nodding, and his lips seemed to be moving slightly. He was listening to someone inside his head.
Was it Atroxia? I knew he had a special connection to her, but he had freed her from the curse. Their connection should have ended. As far as I was concerned, she needed to get out of his head and stay out.
After a moment, his arm moved again. I took his hand in mine and gave it a squeeze.
"Aurelia?" He asked as if he didn't know the answer. Why weren't his eyes opening?
"I'm here. Just rest."
"Did I die?"
"Yes." I scrunched up my face. "Or you mostly died, I'm not sure."
"Did I come back?"
I brushed my hand against his cheek. No scars were on his face, though I wouldn't have minded if there were.
"Look at me, Nic. Open your eyes."
They fluttered a bit, as if he was trying and not quite succeeding. I leaned in to him and gave him a light kiss. He might not have even felt it, but I wanted him to know I was here.