Wrath of the Storm (Mark of the Thief 3)

Even from where I stood, I saw Aurelia's eyes widen as she understood what the Mistress was saying. That's why Diana had been watching Aurelia all this time. If I killed the Mistress, Aurelia would become her replacement. If I ended one curse, another would begin.

"Make the storm, Nicolas," Brutus said. "Do it, or the Mistress will drop the girl back to the floor."

"Do it the way you described to me." Tears streamed down Aurelia's face. "Only that way."

"Break the curse," Atroxia said into my head. "I beg you to end my suffering."

And in doing so, I would likely cause Aurelia's suffering. She loved me, more than I had ever deserved, and in a way I had never been loved before.

"Of course he will do it," Brutus said, then looked directly at me. Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes in a way that infuriated me. "You are the sacrifice to the gods, are you not?"

I had not thought of it that way, and yet that was exactly correct. Why had Caesar's ghost marked me in the caves, and allowed me to steal that bulla? The magic I held wasn't a curse or a punishment. It was given to me so that I might carry out a purpose Caesar wanted. It was the same reason the Malice of Mars had come to me, even though there had been other Romans with magic, including Radulf, who had wanted a Jupiter Stone for years. Mars intended the Malice to fall into my hands. Why? Would he care that I had greater powers or the ability to defeat any attacker? No, the only purpose for the Malice was that it gave me the strength to challenge the lightning for a storm.

This must also be the reason why every attempt to escape my fate had failed. Because as far as I might ever run from the empire or from magic or even from the gods themselves, I could never run from my own destiny.

When I came here, my plan had been to make a storm, and only that. To bring in lightning targeting the Mistress while I stood protected within a shield.

But that was not my fate. It was always intended that I make this Jupiter Stone.

An amulet that carried the power of Jupiter himself. One that could only be created to benefit someone else. Never for the person who created it.

When my father had attempted it, it was to save my family and our ragged town from the Roman invaders. He had the right motives, but lacked enough magic.

Through me, Radulf had enough magic, yet he had always wanted the Jupiter Stone for himself. If he had attempted to create the stone, he would have failed too.

Above me, the Mistress had deposited Aurelia on a narrow cornice high above one of the alcoves. There was nowhere for her to go from there, and it was too high for her to jump down. But if she kept her balance, she would be safe.

What if I were only making the stone to save Aurelia's life? Would that allow me to survive it?

"You will not survive it," Atroxia said into my head. "But you must create the storm."

I looked up at the Mistress, who had landed on a cornice at the opposite side of the dome. For all her greatness and grandeur, the dragon looked remarkably lonely. Alone. Empty. Somewhere behind the Mistress's fiery eyes, Atroxia was also awaiting my decision.

I directed my attention to Brutus. "Whatever happens at the end of this, I want your solemn vow to release Aurelia."

"When I am holding the Jupiter Stone, she will go free," he said.

"Please don't do this," Aurelia said. "Nic, you know what will happen."

"You will go free; that's what I know."

Before she could answer, I looked away. I had to while I still had enough courage to move. I stared up through the oculus, noticing for the first time that the moon had shifted its position in the skies just enough to bathe the altar in its silvery light. Diana was at work in here tonight.

Caela was no longer visible, but I knew she wasn't far away. I whispered a call to her. "Find Aurelia," I said. "When this is over, find Aurelia."

Finally, it was time to begin. I looked down, gathering magic into my hands and arms, letting it fill my chest and the hollows of my legs. The storm I wanted was no ordinary rainstorm. I wanted dark clouds to obscure even the brightest star, winds that would uproot the strongest trees, and sharp sparks in the air, tangible enough that any Roman with the sense of a clay pot would race to be indoors.

For all its showmanship and grandeur, Rome had never seen anything like what I was about to bring.

Above me, the heavens began rumbling. My show had begun.

I knew when enough clouds had gathered above us because darkness filled the Pantheon. Torchlights still glowed where they had been placed on the walls, but they flickered in the wind that filtered down from the oculus, giving the room an even more ominous feel.

Ahead of me, Brutus had backed into the alcove directly beneath Aurelia. With the bow near his feet, it wouldn't be hard for him to upset Aurelia's delicate balance if he thought I was tricking him in any way, but that was not my intention. I simply needed to ensure I didn't lose control of anything I brought into this room. I hoped Aurelia was balanced enough on that cornice to withstand what was coming.

Outside, we heard the scratches of tree branches against the sides of the building, and the tumbling of loose objects as they blew down the roads. I hoped everyone outside had cleared from the area because it was only about to get worse.

When I looked up, my arms raised with me, high as I could reach. Then I pulled them low, and with that, I pulled rain down to the earth. It came in fat, flooding drops of water, so heavy that they fell like tiny silver balls upon my head and my shoulders. Within only seconds, water began building on the Pantheon floor.