Chapter XXIII Felix #3
Felix had seen that hawk before, pinned to Servius’s chest. Hot betrayal replaced cold fear, and he forgot all about the mountain. Clearly it was the lesser of the dangers facing Loren.
‘I fear his fate is not so certain,’ the Priest said. ‘But from a source I can’t parse.’
Chest tight, Felix gasped. One breath. Another. His knees shook, even as the trembling earth faded to the background. He couldn’t process. He couldn’t understand the feelings rattling his bones.
‘Go,’ the Priest ordered. ‘Do not worry about me.’
Their eyes met, Felix searching for approval. Leaving felt wrong, but the Priest’s watery eyes hardened with resolve. Felix backed away.
‘This does not have to be your end.’ The Priest settled back on his stool. ‘Go.’
Felix did. He ran for the exit as the sky darkened .
When the shock ebbed, chaos set in.
Felix wove through panicked, clutching crowds. People tripped over each other, stumbling for shelter or escape or for the sake of action at all. The ground still shivered, but Felix had grown used to running over unstable cobblestones.
Darius jolted from his stupor when Felix sprinted past him for the third time that afternoon, but it didn’t matter. Not when he was running back into the snake’s coil. Anger tinted Felix’s vision red, blocking out sure signs that this, of all things, was the wrong course of action.
Servius didn’t look up from his papers when Felix slammed into the study. Mercury’s helmet glared from its spot on the desk.
‘You lied.’ Felix jabbed a shaking finger. ‘You promised – swore – he had your protection. What did you do?’
Servius’s eyes focused first on the finger, then briefly on Felix before casting back to his work, uninterested.
With a lazy wave, he signalled Darius, panting at the doorway, to grab, but Felix slipped out of reach, fury making him light on his feet.
He danced to the other side of the desk, fists clenched.
‘I made no offer to protect them. I said your friends could pass to the nearest town with my blessing and my horses.’ Sighing, Servius leaned back, arms folded over his chest. ‘But you broke our deal first, so it was only fair to annul our bargain. I sent a rider after them.’
Felix stared at the back of the senator’s balding head. ‘Broke our deal?’
‘Our deal,’ said Servius, ‘was agreed upon without the knowledge that your friend is the absent son of Lucius Lassius. Lying by omission, however convenient, is still a lie.’
Shock stunned Felix to silence. Servius waved a bundle of parchment, and Felix snatched it. His eyes roved over the fresh ink, some contract he couldn’t comprehend, until he reached the bottom .
Two signatures. Two wax seals: a loopy F , and a vine-cinched L .
‘Julia Fortunata’s estate was abandoned this morning after the quake.
She left everything behind, including this transfer of property to one Lucius Lassius Lorenus.
Stamped and sealed and in plain sight, she undeniably intended for me to find this.
I’ll admit to my confusion. News along the grapevine, pardon my wordplay, said Lassius’s heir hasn’t been seen in years.
’ Servius paused to scrawl in his notes.
‘Of course, that’s where Celsinus comes in. ’
Felix’s focus wrenched from the contract. Surely he had misheard. Then his gaze settled on a small figure perched across the room, sitting so quietly that, lost in desperate rage, Felix hadn’t spared the boy a glance.
Celsi met his shock with a pouty frown. ‘Don’t look so surprised, thief.’
‘Celsinus has been useful,’ said Servius. ‘Not only did he fetch the contract, he confirmed Julia’s new heir is indeed who he signed as.’
‘Everyone underestimates me.’ Celsi’s pout became a defensive sneer. ‘But I’m cleverer than all of you. That ring he wore around his neck has the same mark as the bottles my father drinks. I’m the only one in the whole damned city who knew.’
‘Language,’ chastised Servius. ‘What would your father say?’
Celsi shifted, folding his skinny arms and settling into a deep sulk.
A purple bruise bloomed across his forehead, half hidden beneath his mop of curls.
‘I saw Loren talking to you in the temple at the festival, and I know he’s been poking around about the helmet for days.
Not hard to piece together. So I thought Senator Servius should know the full truth. ’
Celsi was lucky Felix had enough dignity not to curse out a boy whose voice hadn’t yet broken. Turning back to the contract, his mouth flattened. ‘Julia set Loren up. She knew you were after her, so she moved your target onto him. Once you killed Loren, Julia would reveal his real identity. ’
‘That I’d eliminated the Lassius heir, thus sinking my political career – and sparing her the work of taking me down.’ Servius pushed back his chair and stood, facing Felix with placating palms. ‘Yes. Clever woman. Oh, don’t crumple that. I still need it.’
He prised the parchment from Felix’s curled fists. As he smoothed it out on the desk, Servius’s mouth twitched in a bland smirk.
‘Lorenus is now the heir to both the Lassius and Fortunatus estates, establishing him as the wealthiest man in the Campanian province, but I have the contract under his name. With this in hand, I could make him convince the council to pass the vote to increase Rome’s share of taxes. Neat how this worked out.’
‘So you sent a rider to drag him back. Loren won’t work with you. He—’
Servius tossed the contract to the side. Sheets burst in a scattered flurry. Felix jerked, stunned, as they fluttered to the ground. Celsi, instincts shaped by years of being around unstable councilmen, dropped to his knees, scrambling to shuffle the pages together.
‘Frivolous,’ Servius said. ‘Julia’s flaw has always been her capacity to overthink. I don’t need an estate, nor do I need Pompeii’s vote. Not now. I have the helmet. I have you.’
Felix’s hollow stomach flipped. He cast back to Servius’s words the night they first met.
We’ll be partners. Cassius and Brutus of a new age.
All at once, he understood what Servius meant to use the helmet for – use the power he believed it granted Felix for.
Revenge on Rome for exiling him. Revenge on the empire.
The warnings Felix had spent days denying came back in a cold slide.
Dream-walker. Plane-crosser. Holder of restless souls.
Traverser between the living and the dead.
And what a power like that could do in Servius’s hands.
Fighting back swelling panic, Felix forced his mind onto what mattered. Not magic. Not memory .
‘Then why bring Loren back at all?’ he bit out. ‘If you don’t need him, let him go.’
Servius’s smile widened. ‘You misunderstand. This isn’t about Lorenus. This is a lesson for you . My instructions to Maxim are to dispose of them all. No loose ends.’
‘No loose ends,’ Felix repeated, numb.
‘You said Loren wouldn’t be hurt,’ Celsi piped up, shot with a trill of fear. ‘You promised.’
Promises, promises. Felix snarled, vaulting to fling open the window shutters and reveal the darkening day, the black cloud chewing on the sun. ‘The world is fucking ending. ’
‘I have the helmet,’ Servius repeated. ‘I have you.’
As if Felix had the ability to make this stop. Mouth dry, head spinning, he lurched forward, bracing on the desk chair. Teeth gritted, he choked out, ‘When did your rider leave?’
‘Not long ago, so rest assured your boy has a healthy head start. Burdened by the shopgirl and her mother, though, it won’t be long before he catches up. In fact’ – Servius peered out of the window – ‘if my timing is right, it should happen any moment now.’
Felix made a break for it, a mad dash to grab the helmet and race for the door, but Servius issued another bored gesture.
In a whirl of limbs and a blow to Felix’s face, Darius put him on his knees, arms yanked back.
The helmet rolled away. Gods, Felix was sick of this.
Panting, he bared his teeth at Servius, who observed him like one might indulge an amusing pet.
‘You lost,’ Servius said. ‘After all these years playing, the game ends here. Can I give you a bit of advice? Not that you need it, your life is very much mine.’
‘Piss off.’
‘Next time, don’t tell the man holding the chips what you care about. That’s where your father failed, too.’ Servius squatted to twist his hand sharp in Felix’s curls. ‘Here’s another piece of wisdom I must teach you, same as I did your father – I am not one to fool.’
‘You know fuck all about my father.’
‘Don’t I, Felix? You’re the spitting image of him, and I never forget a face.
’ Uncurling his fingers from Felix’s hair, Servius brushed a thumb over his cheekbone.
‘Did Julia neglect to mention why I was exiled from Rome? Your father and I ran in the same smuggling circle. He killed our priest, then double-crossed me. I handed down the orders to kill him. Only by my mercy were the guards called off before they caught you, too.’
‘Stop,’ Felix begged, because it was all he had. ‘ Stop .’
Servius straightened, brushing invisible dust from his tunic, as if Felix’s mere proximity had soiled him. To Darius, he said, ‘He’s useless struggling like this. Make him pliant so I can test my theory.’
Darius obliged with far too much enthusiasm.
He prised Felix’s jaw open, and the bittersweet tang of poppy sap exploded across his tongue.
It hit his system as a trickle, then all at once.
Fingers wrapped around his throat, closing his airway.
Felix scrabbled for purchase, fighting to stay awake, but the hands of sleep dragged him down, covering his skin and touching all over.
‘That’s enough.’ Servius’s frown came as a blur. ‘I said pliant, Darius, not . . .’
Black swept Felix’s senses, and the last thing he saw was Mercury’s helmet, cast in the corner, a silver trophy for losing again.