Enough of this. What good was it to have a bulla hanging from my neck if I couldn't use its power to help me now? I would not search on my knees anymore.
I stood and raised my arms wide and used the bulla to command all the rocks from this field to rise. The mountain quaked beneath me, and for a moment, I thought it would split apart, then I remembered what I had stupidly commanded. No, I did not want every rock to rise -- that would hollow out the mountain. I only wanted the Jupiter Stone to rise.
The rumble continued beneath me, but different from before. I had no worries for my own safety, or even the temple structure. The rumbling was caused by the stones shifting into new positions. All I could do was step back to avoid their movement.
When the rumbling stopped, I hesitated a moment, because I had commanded the Jupiter Stone to rise, and if a rock was floating in the air, then I could not see it. I needed more light.
Upon my silent command, the rocks sparked, giving off a hot silver light that forced me to shield my eyes. They became as bright as a flash of lightning, but one that does not dim. When I removed my hand and forced myself to look, I saw the rocks had formed into a lightning bolt, as lengthy as what I imagined they must be in the skies, and as bright.
Which was amazing to see, but useless. Because as beautiful and terrifying as the bolt was, that did nothing to get me the Jupiter Stone.
The caw of an eagle overhead caught my attention next, and I looked up, expecting to see Caela there. It wasn't her, however. It was simply an eagle.
No ordinary eagle, that was certain. This one was larger than any I'd seen before, with eyes that reflected the moonlight and pierced me to my core when it looked down at me.
The lightning bolt and the eagle. Jupiter's symbols.
The eagle screeched in a fashion that even Caela would've respected and it seemed to call my name. When the bird was directly over my head, I saw something clutched in its grip. A rock.
I held out my hands to receive it, but instead of delivering it, the eagle crashed into me and took me right over the slope of the mountain. I tumbled end over end, throwing out magic in hopes of finding something to slow my fall, but all that did was create even more falling rocks, an avalanche of magical disaster.
Also, an appropriate symbol for my life, I thought.
Jupiter's eagle was flying beside me, cawing in a way that now sounded more like cackling. As if it was enjoying this. No, as if Jupiter was enjoying this.
Well, I hadn't chosen to come here. I didn't want a Jupiter Stone, now or ever, and this certainly wasn't the way I intended to get myself killed.
The rocks sliding below me crashed into a tree, knocking it at an angle. When I came to it, I grabbed at branches until one finally held my weight, then wrapped myself around the trunk as larger rocks continued pushing the tree downward.
My body was bruised and battered, but I still had the bulla's strength, which I used to shimmy up the trunk. As the eagle came toward me again, talons out, I leapt from the tree and grabbed on to its legs.
It screeched in anger and flew higher up the mountain, pecking at me with a beak that tore at my flesh, and trying to shake me off. I didn't enjoy that, but it was still better than falling. The bulla made me stronger, and the Divine Star gave me healing, but neither of them protected me from absolute stupidity.
Which this was, by the way.
I kept one hand holding the eagle's leg and, with my other, wormed my fingers into its talon until the rock it was holding was mine. Then I let go and asked the bulla to find a soft landing for me.
It didn't. The earth was every bit as hard as I remembered. Fortunately, the eagle had tired from my weight, so I was lower to the ground than before and at least I hadn't landed in thorn bushes. It wouldn't have surprised me much if I had.
I rolled a few times on the ground until everything came to a rest, then remained there on my back for several minutes, catching my breath and trying to find a position that didn't hurt.
I shouldn't use the Divine Star -- Radulf would know -- but I had no choice, and I let it wash through me, carrying away the worst of my pain.
He felt what I was doing, and he was curious, maybe even concerned. I knew he wanted to ask, but he didn't.
The vestalis walked up to me and chuckled lightly. I hadn't even realized the eagle had dropped me so near to her. "Well," she said, surveying my scratches and bruises. "That could have gone better."
I unfolded my fist and looked at the rock caught in my hands. Where the others had been rough and chipped, this was smaller, but perfectly round and as smooth as marble. I detected no magic inside it, but maybe the magic wasn't there ... yet.
This rock was meant to become the Jupiter Stone. I had just taken it from Jupiter himself.
Another theft.
Another victory.
This wasn't really a Jupiter Stone, not yet, since it had no more magic than a dried apple core. But I had it clutched in my fist, the same way I often held the bulla.
I staggered to my feet and followed the vestalis along a path. Diana's temple was above us, and I hoped the path would take us even farther away from anything associated with her.
I knew from my time in the mines that strange rituals took place at this temple, violent ones with screams I sometimes would hear at night. And though I had some protection because of the magic within me, it was still uncomfortable to be here. Surely, Diana knew that I intended to use her magic to stop the Praetor War, not expand it.
The path soon led to a thick grove of trees. Mighty oak trees that were probably as old as the earth itself. The vestalis sat on a marble bench facing one large oak tree that stood apart from the rest.
The moonlight was behind it now and shone brightly through its thick branches. Although we had walked far from Diana's temple, I felt a reverence here. Maybe that was because we were so far away. Diana was a warrior. The vestalis was not, and certainly I wasn't either.
"Sit beside me, Nicolas."
She didn't ask for the stone, and I didn't offer it. But I did sit, facing the oak tree.
The vestalis was quiet for so long that I began to wonder if she had fallen asleep. And I debated what to do because the truth was, I wouldn't have minded falling asleep too -- this horrible day seemed to have no end.
The moonlight was fading now, or more accurately, the sun was rising at our backs. It was early still, and yet those first moments of sunlight touched on the outer branches of the tree as if each had been lit with a flame. It was beautiful in the kind of way I knew I'd never be able to describe to anyone else.
"I can feel your heart," she finally said. "So heavy with fear and sorrow, but it beats for the love that is there too."
"For my mother and my sister," I said.
The vestalis looked over at me. "A mother and sister, yes. But is that all?"
"No." I couldn't lie to her, not even if I was used to lying to myself.
She turned back to the tree. "You want freedom, Nicolas Calva. I feel that in your heart as well. Every decision you make is weighed against the hope of whether it will make you free."
My breath was becoming shallow. "Can you give me freedom? I will trade this stone for it, and the bulla. And the key to the Malice, if I knew how to give that away." Because I knew now, more than ever, that without the amulets I could not gain my freedom. With them, I could not live in freedom.
She smiled softly. "Freedom never comes to those who avoid their problems. To get what you want, you must walk through the fire. And I suspect you will need your magic to survive it."
Then she knew about the bargain I had made with the Praetors. She must, because I figured a chariot race against their strongest competitor was as much fire as anyone could ever walk, or ride, through.
Since first seeing the vestalis again, a question had been stuck like a lump in my throat, and it was time I forced it out. "There's a woman known as Atroxia --"
She cut me off with a heavy sigh. "The vestalis involved in Caesar's death
. As punishment, she was buried alive."
"Yes. Can you tell me about her?"
The sacred woman stood and faced into the sun, away from me. "She will test you in a most unexpected way, Nicolas. What you still do not understand about love will become clear through her."
I understood far more than the vestalis seemed to think. I'd sacrificed so much for my loved ones already. I didn't see how life could teach me anything more about the price of caring for another person.
Besides that, I had no intention of being tested by the Mistress, because she was asleep, and I intended to keep her that way. I said, "I'm not supposed to wake her up. I've been told that she's evil."
The vestalis turned back to me, with heavy eyes and shoulders. "Then perhaps you have things to teach her as well."
No, the vestalis was wrong about this. I was certain of it. Or, I hoped for it anyway.
The sun was rising higher now, and whole branches of the tree were visible.
"Do not break those branches, ever," the vestalis said. "Not until the time is right for you."
I stared at her. I had no reason to break any branches of that tree, nor would I cause it any harm. I was tired of only destroying things.
And we sat a little longer until the sun had lit the entire tree. Where the tips had once seemed touched with fire, now the entire tree caught the sunlight like a flame.
The vestalis stood, and I stood with her. "Now it's time," she said. "Place your stone on a branch of that tree, any branch you choose."
I gripped it tighter. "It won't be safe there. Anyone could grab it."
"They won't even see it. Because it's your stone now and will stay in the protection of the tree until you call for it. If you ever choose to call for it."
So I walked forward and reached to the highest branch I could, then rolled the Jupiter Stone onto the limb, near the trunk. I didn't see how anything she said could be possible, and yet the tone of her voice was so certain, I didn't doubt her either.
Once I returned to her side, the vestalis cupped my face in her hands and lifted it so that she could see me better.
"Remember that victory comes in protecting those you love, not destroying those you hate." When I nodded, she said, "You'd better get home now. There are difficult days ahead."
She started to leave but turned when I asked, "Domina, will I ever see you again?"
She smiled. "You will, when you need me most."
With those words, Caela appeared overhead with a fierce screech and circled around, looking for a place to land. I called up to her that I would move into a clearing. When I looked for the vestalis again, to offer her some help up the hill, she was gone.
Several minutes later, Caela brought me back to where Callistus was waiting near the lake. He'd had a nice rest and was obviously eager to ride again. Which was fine for him, but I hadn't slept all night and the road back into Rome was far too long. I wished Caela would fly me there while I closed my eyes, but that was clearly not their plan. Before I left Caela, I wrapped my arms around her and whispered, "Do not forget me. For I will never forget you."
She nudged at my side with her beak, a sign of some affection, I thought. Then she flew into the skies and disappeared against the rising sun.
The ride back with Callistus was a somber one. I wasn't sure exactly what had just happened with the vestalis, and she had given me multiple warnings, none of which sounded particularly pleasant. And through my exhaustion, every problem seemed bigger than it had felt before. Although it was still too early to expect many Romans on the street, we had to take extra time to avoid the ones who were already at work. Unicorns were exceptionally rare. Better to keep Callistus a secret.
Radulf was waiting for me in the courtyard when we returned. I knew some of the deeper scratches from my fall and battle with the eagle still hadn't healed. Certainly my torn tunic hinted that something significant had happened. My hair was wild and blown back from my face, which was windburnt on my nose and cheeks. The Divine Star was alive and the bulla was warm, and I was sure he wondered where I had been for the entire night.
But before he could ask, I dismounted from Callistus and strode past Radulf, saying only, "I'm going to sleep. We have practice today."
"It is today already," Radulf said, half grinning.
"Later today," I mumbled. "Unless you want me driving the horses into the wall."
Which, as I thought about it, seemed like a far better alternative than the bargain I'd made with the Praetors.
I was only allowed a couple of hours of sleep before Radulf had me summoned to meet him at the circus. Still struggling to keep my eyes open, I walked with him toward the stables where my horses were kept. Other teams were here to practice, but I was no longer interested in competing against them. Once I raced, it wouldn't be red versus white or blue or green. It was me, riding for my life, and for the future of Rome.
Radulf hadn't asked about last night, though I knew he must be curious. No doubt he would ask soon, but until then, we both knew I had to focus on the coming race.
"Charioteers are drawn at random to choose their starting gate," Radulf told me as we walked toward them. "You want to be one of the last ones chosen so that you can pick the gate farthest away from your toughest competitors. Choose the lowest number possible, though, because once you leave the gates, you must press to the inside track. You want to get ahead and then stay ahead. It's much harder to come from behind."
I understood that, and I had no worry about my courage to press in to the center. My greater concern was how the Praetor I'd be competing against would try to stop me.
Radulf continued, "For the Ludi Romani, you'll go around the track seven times. The entire race totals about three miles, so you must pace yourself."
"I know all this," I told him. "I've raced before."
"You've practiced before, and you drive too fast too early. You'll wear out your horses if you push them at that speed. Drive just fast enough to stay in the lead."
"How many horses am I allowed in this race?" I asked.
"Four. Though it won't matter since everyone gets the same number. But I am buying us new horses, the finest money can buy."
"I know the other horses better," I said. "The ones I've already practiced with."
"You'll get to know the new ones by the time you race. They'll be here tomorrow."
I wasn't going to argue with that. The horses he'd given me before were strong, but they were older and tired easily. Winning mattered almost as much to him as it did to me, and I had to trust at least some of his decisions.
"Get me one horse," I said, smiling. "So strong that he defeats the other teams and lets me squeeze right between them."
"I'm getting four horses," he said. "So strong that they'll run right over the other teams."
I laughed. "To do that, I'd need at least double that number."
"Too many horses won't help you." Radulf chuckled. "The story is told of that great fool, Emperor Nero, who attempted to race with ten horses, more than twice what the other charioteers were allowed. He was thrown from his chariot before finishing the course, though naturally, he was declared the winner."
I grinned along with him. "I would have liked to see that."
Radulf patted my back. "When I rule the empire, you will see anything you can imagine. With our magic combined, everything will be possible. Even the gods will bow to us."
My smile fell, and I turned my focus back to the circus. "I'm ready to ride now," I said. "I want to get on the track."
"Just the starting gate for today." I started to protest, but Radulf added, "It's the most important part of the race. You need a clean exit from the gate."
Here at the Circus Maximus, a building housed the gates that led onto the track. We entered from the stables to the rear, beyond the view of the audience, and then lined up in the building where the race would begin. The twelve gates each had a separate archway with wooden doors that released at the very same moment. The gates were all
situated on a slight curve so that every gate had the same distance to the break line, the point at which the competition officially began.
However, the way a charioteer left the gates could make all the difference. That was the reason for today's practice.
My team of four horses was brought to a middle gate, and I climbed into the chariot. I planted my feet on the chariot floor as I started tying the reins around my waist.
"Just hold the reins today," Radulf said.
"Why? When I race --"
"When you race, you won't tie the reins either." Ridges of concern had appeared in Radulf's forehead. "That's how the Praetors will try to win, not in a fair race, but by knocking you from your chariot. You can't be tied in."
"They don't want me killed in a fall. They need me."
"They need to win, just as much as you want the victory. If it looks like they're about to lose, then they'll make sure you fall and that you don't cut yourself free. Those are the stakes. Do not tie yourself to the chariot."
I looked down at the reins in my hand. Maybe I'd made a stupid bargain, but at this point, I needed to race my very best. And that meant I would ride this chariot the way I understood. Like every other charioteer, I would tie myself in with the reins.
Radulf sighed as I wrapped them around my waist and made the knot.
"Very well," he said. "But be aware that I can only help you as much as you are willing to be helped. The rest is up to you."
"In the end, it'll be entirely up to me," I said. "Wasn't that your point last night, that I'll have to do this alone?"
"Yes, Nic," he said somberly. "In the end, you'll be alone on that track."
That was all I could think about as I directed my horses to the gate.
And that was where my practice began. We kept the gate doors open so that I could see Radulf's signal. When he gave it, as quickly as possible, I urged the horses to action and my chariot bolted from the gate. Behind me, Radulf shouted out every error I'd made, but I didn't look back. I kept my concentration on the track, edging as close to the spine as I dared.
When I'd completed one full turn, he motioned me back into the gates.
"You hesitated after the gates opened!" he said.