They couldn't see Nic or me on it. Caela's wings were spread too wide, and we were both low on her back.
"That slave boy was executed the other day, wasn't he?" a third person asked. "I think he died."
Ahead of me, Nic chuckled softly. "I came back."
I wrapped my arm even tighter around his waist. "Yes, you did."
Caela didn't fly as quickly as she usually did, but neither of us were in any hurry. The longer we flew, the stronger Nic became. After an hour, he began describing what he remembered from the previous night. It wasn't much, and I found he was asking more questions than he could answer of mine.
"The Mistress -- I really broke the curse? Did that happen?"
"It happened. Atroxia thanked you. The vestalis promised to take care of her."
"I don't hear her in my head anymore," he said. "I think when the curse broke, that ended our connection. Or maybe we'd still be connected, if I had any magic."
He seemed sad every time he mentioned his lost magic. But his hand was holding mine and it remained just as firm, so maybe he was beginning to accept what he'd lost.
"You did more than give Atroxia her life back," I said. "The empire forgave her because of you. That's an even greater gift."
He nodded and went silent for a long time. I noticed his knuckles dig into Caela's back, but only in the most loving of ways.
After another hour of flying, he was sitting up without needing my support. Sometime during that hour, his fingers had become intertwined with mine. I liked that.
"I need to find honest work in Britannia," he said. "The only thing I really know about is mining, but I won't do that anymore, even as a free person. I do like the idea of working with my hands."
"Crispus wants to design buildings," I said. "Maybe you can build from his designs."
"That's a good idea." He seemed to mean it, or at least, his voice sounded a little happier. "I've destroyed so many buildings. It might be nice to create them instead."
We talked about that for a long time, and about our hopes and dreams for what Britannia might be like, becoming so involved in our plans that it scarcely occurred to us Caela was flying lower than before. The air around us was clear and the morning sun was bright and crisp.
Crispus had described Hadrian's Wall to me before, as the current boundaries of the empire. I saw it when we passed overhead, a gray brick wall winding up and down through autumn grasses, and with occasional groups of Roman soldiers as sentries. They pointed us out, but Nic didn't notice so I didn't tell him. I only said a few minutes later, "We're out of the empire."
"I thought so," he mumbled. "Despite everything, I'm sad to think I'll never see Rome again."
"At least Rome will still exist, thanks to you. And who knows, perhaps one day we'll go back."
His hand tightened around mine again. "Yes, we'll go together, one day."
One day, and every day from now on, we'd be together.
Gradually, a home rose up in the distance, more square than the villas of Rome, but elegant nonetheless. Smoke rose from a chimney, and farm animals roamed within its fences.
The front door opened upon our approach, and a very pretty girl exited with a basket in her arms, perhaps to gather eggs or to feed the animals. Her curly blond hair was pulled up in a bun, and she was speaking to someone still inside the home. I knew her, and when Nic recognized her too, he tapped my arm, just in case I hadn't yet seen.
Then Livia heard the flap of Caela's wings and looked up to see us. Her cry of joy was so loud we could hear it from as high up as we still were, but every second brought us closer.
By the time Caela had landed, Livia was right beside us. She hugged Nic, even as he was sliding off Caela's back. Then, from almost nowhere, Nic's mother appeared. She wore an apron with flour handprints on it. Did that mean there was fresh baked bread nearby? My stomach ached with hunger, and Nic must be worse. He hadn't eaten much lately.
"I never allowed myself to hope for this moment," Nic's mother said as tears welled in her eyes.
"What are those marks on your arms and legs?" Livia asked.
Nic probably hadn't even noticed them until now. Or at least, he looked at his arms when she mentioned that and seemed genuinely confused.
"They're evidence of his victory," I quickly said.
"It was a victory, then?" Nic's mother whispered. "How did you survive it?"