Mark of the Thief (Mark of the Thief 1)

I knew what this was. The king of all birds and the king of all beasts, joined in one animal.

It was a griffin.

My mother had told me about them, but had insisted they belonged only to the gods. If that was true, then this must be a very special griffin, for she guarded Caesar's treasure.

That was fine by me. For all I cared, she could guard the entire pile of gold, minus just one thing. That bulla was my only chance of getting back to the surface. Without it, I might as well give up now. My bones would join the rest down here.

The griffin flew to a ledge high above the cave floor and stared down at me. Then she squawked and the rear claws pawed the rock beneath it, ready to attack. I didn't have much time.

I eyed the bulla, almost within reach. The initials were clearly visible from here. G.J.C. Gaius Julius Caesar. This was the one Radulf wanted. I made another run up the stack of gold, placing my feet on the gold bars, which would hold my weight better than the coins. Once I was high enough, I dove for the bulla while straightening my body. With the bulla's strap clutched in my hands, I rolled down the pile.

Shrieking louder than before, the griffin shot off the ledge and aimed herself directly at me. No arrow could've been faster, or more direct in its target. A talon swiped for me, but I tossed up a golden pitcher, blocking the attack. The heavy pitcher fell, landing on my chest hard enough that I nearly blacked out for want of air.

Now at the bottom of the pile, I only had a short run to get out of this room. Then I'd find the rope and make my escape.

So I got to my feet and ran again, but the griffin found me with her tail, and swiped it so powerfully that it threw me against the cave wall. Never in my life had I taken a hit that hard. With many more hits like that, I might not have much life left. I had to escape this room, get away from that beast. The rope was out there in the darkness. I could still find it, and have Sal pull me up.

The griffin made several circles in the air before landing, then faced me with a low growl that could have come only from something born of the gods. I was trapped.

If I was going to fight this beast -- regardless of how poor my chances were -- I needed the use of both hands, so I put the bulla around my neck.

A wind swirled up around me when I did. "It isn't yours," the wind seemed to say. "It will curse you."

The threat didn't bother me -- my present situation was worse than any curse from a dusty amulet. My bigger concern was that the wind spoke to me at all.

The wind came again, and bored through me. I felt it inside my bones, and it chilled my very heart. This was what had killed the other miner, what had driven Fidelius mad, I knew it. And though I felt it start to take me too, I clutched the bulla with both hands, instinctively using it to hold on to my life, until suddenly, the wind stopped, almost as if someone had closed a door to lock it out.

Which would have been a fine end to my worries, except for the griffin directly ahead, watching me. That wasn't natural. At least when she was attacking, I knew what to do, but what was the proper response to a dangerous animal that only stared? I tried speaking to her, hoping to fake enough calmness in my voice to make her relax.

"They call me Nic. It's only a hiccup of a name, I know, but it means 'victory of the people.' One day, all people will be free, and then they'll call me by my full name, Nicolas Calva."

The griffin didn't look all that impressed. Or at least, she took several steps toward me until I could almost reach out and touch her if I wanted to. Which I didn't, by the way.

I kept talking. "You need a name too." It wouldn't matter to the griffin, but it did to me. No matter what she might do next, I couldn't deny she was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. She deserved a name, and nothing ordinary. "I'll call you Caela, because you are from the heavens. You have flown with the gods."

Maybe it wasn't smart to remind her where she had come from. She might not like the idea of living amongst humans now.

The griffin screeched again, revealing the sharpness of her beak. Sure enough, I had reminded her.

"I won't take any more of your gold," I said. So much for my plans for a life of luxury. All I wanted now was any life at all. "But you must let me have this one piece. Please!"

Caela flapped her wings angrily, then quickly drew them in again when another wind swirled through the cave. It distracted her, and I took my chance. I darted beneath one wing on a full sprint for the exit. I might've had a small hope of escaping, except now that it was around my neck, the gold bulla seemed heavier than before and the weight of it pulled me to the ground. It shouldn't have. More than once, I had carried heavy sacks of raw metal to the surface on the strength of my back. One bulla shouldn't be this hard.

Seeing me start to fall, Caela swiped a claw at me, which cut across my shoulder like a knife. I heard the rip of my tunic and immediately felt as if my shoulder had exploded. With a cry of pain, I fell to my hands and knees while black splotches marked my vision. I raised my arm and was half surprised it didn't fall off. How could it hurt so much and still be attached?

With my other hand, I fumbled about for the bulla to be sure it was still there, but this time, it had become warm. The heat from it poured into my hand and traveled up my arm, straight to my injured shoulder, still throbbing with pain. What I felt there was so fierce that I would've sworn fire had licked it. I tried to grab my shoulder and massage the pain away, but I couldn't reach it, so I had to content myself with letting it burn. The only good news was that I didn't feel any blood, which seemed impossible considering that it felt like the griffin's talon had touched bone.

I rolled to my back and saw Caela staring down at me. Why didn't she take one final swipe? I knew now how deep those claws could go. It wouldn't take much.

Caela screeched again, but this time her tone had changed. This wasn't anger. It was a warning. The ground beneath us shook, some sort of earthquake. I scrambled to my feet and stumbled toward the opening from where I'd entered. With the bulla's glow on my chest, it was easier now to see. I found the rope, but a rock instantly dislodged from above and landed directly on it, no

t far from my feet.

I needed that rope. It was my only chance to escape this cursed place. So while trying to dodge other falling rocks, I clutched at the rope and pulled with all my strength.

It was a mistake. I didn't see the rock coming straight for me until it was too late. Even as it crashed onto my head, I thought about how meaningless my life had been, and how quickly I would be forgotten. This was never the way I had wanted to die.

There was no possible way to explain my waking up.