Rise of the Wolf (Mark of the Thief 2)

"I want you both to leave," Valerius said to Crispus and Aurelia, who had followed me.

"No," I said. "I want them to stay." Or at least, I wanted Aurelia to stay. I wasn't sure about Crispus.

Hesitantly, Valerius consented, and they took seats behind me. I glanced back at Aurelia, who brushed her fingers against my shoulder as a sign of support. I hoped Crispus saw it.

When Radulf had my attention, he nodded at Valerius and said, "I told the senator you'd never run from a fight."

On the contrary, I would gladly run from a fight if the option were ever given to me. I had no training, not even in magic, and lacked the cold disrespect for life that one would expect from a warrior. On the other hand, I had never backed down from Radulf's challenges. Not until he threatened my sister's life if I refused to join his house. Since then, I had not defied him once. Or at least, not as far as he knew.

"What's the fight?" I asked.

Valerius cleared his throat. "The Praetors are in rebellion against me, and soon will rebel against all of Rome. I blame you for this, Nic."

"When did your poor leadership become my fault?" I was nothing to Rome, less than a speck of dust on the boot of the lowest soldier. Or at least, that was how Radulf described me each night when I was sent to my room. One of the men sitting before me was wrong. Either I mattered to the empire, or I didn't.

"You brought magic to Rome," Valerius continued. "The Praetors have waited nearly three hundred years for someone to find Caesar's bulla."

I glanced over at Radulf and only briefly met his eyes. He'd taken the bulla from me when I joined his house, and I had not stolen it back. Well, not yet.

"The Praetors will not get the bulla," Radulf said. "Only I know its secrets."

I nearly burst out laughing. Since I came to his home, Radulf had spent almost every night desperately trying to create magic from the bulla. He claimed he could still sense its magic, but I suspected what he actually sensed was the magic returning to me, because the bulla no longer had its powerful gemstones. I had removed those before our fight in the arena. If Radulf were less prideful, he would ask me for help. And if I were less stubborn ... well, I had no intention of helping him, ever. Radulf was on his own.

Valerius was too focused on Radulf to notice my reaction. Speaking now to Radulf, he said, "The Praetors aren't concerned about the bulla. It's the Malice of Mars they want, and they'll come to Nic for the key to unlocking it. If he gives it to them now --"

"I DON'T HAVE THE KEY!" I yelled. Only the gods knew how many times I had denied having the key, and they probably quit counting weeks ago. Lowering my voice only a little, I added, "Horatio never expected to die, so he had no reason to give away the key. Even if he did give it away, he'd never have cho

sen me. He hated me, and he believed Radulf would kill me in the arena, not him."

I heard a chuckle and looked sideways at Radulf, who had somehow found my words funny.

"But Horatio told everyone he gave it to Nic," Crispus said from behind me. We turned, and he added, "Besides, whether he has it or not, the Praetors will treat Nic as if he has the key. He must be protected."

Valerius leaned forward. "Radulf, you must make Nic give up the key, then take him as far from Rome as possible. Leave the empire if you can, though I doubt even that will be far enough."

"If he can't outrun the Praetors, then there's no point in leaving." Radulf smiled over at me. "Nic will not leave Rome, and he certainly will not give them the key. After he defeats the Praetors, I will take the Malice of Mars for myself."

"How?" I asked. "Even with the key, nobody knows where the Malice is hidden." I was still looking at Crispus as I spoke, and Valerius tossed him a warning glance. That made me curious.

Valerius tried again. "Please, Radulf, do not seek the Malice. It can only end badly. We need to give the Praetors the key and then get out safely, all of us. Lives depend on it."

Now I understood, and it didn't improve my opinion of Valerius much. "That's why you came here," I said to him. "You're not interested in saving my life, or in saving Rome from the Praetors. If you don't give them the key, they'll kill you."

Before he could answer, his eyes widened, and then he raised a shaking hand and pointed behind Radulf. We all turned and saw a group of Praetors entering the circus. They were dressed in the robes and togas of the upper class, but each of them had a thin silver band in the shape of an arrow wrapped around his arm. It was proof of their loyalty to Diana, who, according to Crispus, was in rebellion against the other gods. Every head in the circus turned my way.

A lump formed in my throat as I tried to figure out what to do. Valerius said they intended to take me.

"Give them the key," Valerius said, grabbing my arm. "Please, Nic. It's your only hope."

"He'll do no such thing," Radulf said, standing. "Nic, get behind me. The rest of you had better find a place to hide."

And in his hand, I saw a flame spark into a ball. While Aurelia, Crispus, and Valerius raced away, I braced myself for the fight.

Until coming to Radulf's home, I had always kept the bulla with me, and would've loved the chance to use it now. Since he had taken it for himself, Radulf had shown far more caution. He hid the bulla in his room, thinking it was safe from the Praetors or thieves. Or me. Still, the magic in the mark on Radulf's back was exceedingly powerful -- it would be enough to fend off the Praetors.

Even so, when I saw them enter the circus, the Divine Star on my shoulder sparked to life and burned like a cold flame, but I could not let Radulf know that. Having used magic to save my horses during the chariot race was already too risky. If I did anything here, he might take my magic again. I wouldn't survive that degree of pain a second time. So I curled my hands into fists, hoping that would be enough to hold the magic inside, and tried not to look at the Praetors.

They approached from the top end of the circus, nearly fifty of them. Every one of them had his eyes directly on me. I felt the weight of their glares like boulders on my chest; these men had power and wealth I could not imagine, almost as much as the senators of Rome, and they were no friends of mine.