“I wanted to show you something.”
“What?”
He raised his hand and pointed. “The wedding venue.”
I followed his upraised arm, stopping dead in my tracks almost immediately. “What the f…”
“Yeah,” John said, interrupting me. “That’s exactly what I said.”
I’d never seen a structure quite like it, even back home. It was enormous, maybe twenty stories high and twice as long, and it was still under construction. Its structure reminded me somewhat of the old, dilapidated baseball stadiums back home, most of which stood as decaying monuments to a time that was only slightly better. Like those, this grandiose structure was circular in design, but only a half circle was completed and its interior was hollowed out, giving it the appearance of a bowl cut in half vertically. A wooden platform was also being constructed within its bowl-like structure.
“What is it?” I whispered, nearly breathless, admiring the building’s intricate artwork and sculptures that littered its concave interior above the platform. They seemed to tell some kind of story in sequential order as it wrapped its way around structure’s visible surface area.
“Fuck if I know,” John answered unhelpfully. “Looks like half of the Colosseum if you ask me, but I’m hardly an expert.”
“What’s that?”
John gestured at the structure. “Like I said, kinda like that, only a full circle, not half. It was a happy place, filled with all kinds of sword fights and mass murders.”
“Why show it to me?”
“Well… because it wasn’t there two weeks ago.”
I coughed as I looked at him. “Excuse me?”
“It wasn’t there two weeks ago,” John repeated. “In fact, it was just a residential neighborhood. Now all that’s been torn down and this is here instead.”
I turned back to the structure. “How is that possible?”
“Why do you keep asking me the hard questions?” John muttered in frustration. “I’m not the scientist here.”
“Engineer,” I corrected.
“Whatever, Doc. Even better then. So what’s your take on it?”
I shook my head. “I really don’t know. It doesn’t seem possible. Even if they were working around the clock, with thousands of workers, all this couldn’t have been accomplished in just two weeks. That isn’t enough time.”
“Time?” John asked, his voice suggesting he knew more than he was letting on.
“Yeah,” I said. “Not enough time. Not unless Remus has the ability to slow it down in specific pockets of space… wait, he can’t do that? Can he?”
“You know…” John said, leaning in close to me. “It may seem like I really like the word ‘fuck,’ but I really don’t. It’s a really fucking vulgar word, quite honestly. But you know what? There are times – times like this one right now – when I can’t really think of anything more appropriate to say, and since you already know how eloquent I am, allow me to again leave it at this: fuck if I know.”
He backed away with a smug look, allowing me to return my eyes to the large structure, amazed that it was apparently meant as nothing more than a place to hold a wedding. Back home, people were lucky enough to find a church in their area, let alone hold grandiose ceremonies and receptions for an entire city to view.
“All this for a wedding…” I whispered, mostly to myself.
“Yep,” John replied. “Not much different than how useless celebrities get married back home, right?” I shook my head but didn’t answer. John must have sensed my apprehension and changed the subject. “But I’ve got to admit… I don’t really envy Agrippina.”
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, wondering where this was going. “In what way?”
“Eh, Remus isn’t exactly my type.”
“Oh, really?” I groaned. “Who could have ever guessed?”
“I mean, even if I was a woman,” he clarified.
“Why?” I asked, feeling myself swoon stupidly at just the thought of the man. “He’s gorgeous.”
John jerked back, clearly annoyed, and frowned. “Think about it, Artie. Really think about it. Remus is nine feet tall and apparently a god. Just imagine how big his…”
“Diana!”
The shout came from behind us and timed perfectly since it didn’t take a genius to know what John had been alluding to. As for the voice, it had originated out of nowhere, but despite its unexpectedness, I wasn’t immediately concerned. The only people who knew my real name were friends.
John and I turned and saw Georgia sprinting toward us. She too wore a loose fitting dress so as to better fit in, but it clung to her like a bodysuit because of how much she was sweating. The poor woman must have been running all over the city trying to find us.
“Georgia?” I asked, taking a step toward her. “What’s wrong?”
“Diana,” she said again, not even remotely out of breath, gripping my arm tightly with a hand. “Finally! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where have you two…”
“What’s wrong?” John interrupted.
“It’s Jacob,” she said immediately, turning to look at him but then back to me. “He’s conscious, Artie.”
“He is?” I asked excitedly.
Georgia hesitated but then shrugged as she pulled me behind her. “Mostly, I guess. But that’s not all. Tim… Merlin… whoever he is… is also there and he wants to see you. Now.”
***
The trip back was quick, driven by excitement and a burning desire for answers. Georgia hadn’t elaborated much along the way, but I hadn’t expected her to know more than she’d already told us. Tim didn’t seem the type to simply give out idle or superfluous information unless he really needed to.
We arrived at the safe house ten minutes after Georgia had found us, but I had to take a few seconds to catch my breath from our breakneck sprint, our only break along the way being a few seconds respite when we’d ducked around a corner to avoid a patrol of Praetorians.
Propping myself up with my hands on my knees, I sucked in great heaves of air and shot John an annoyed look when he stood above me, barely winded by the trip. He smiled at me, of course, but quickly turned to find someone who could give him more information. Everyone else was milling about in the atrium, doing one random thing or another, all except Jeanne and Madrina who must have been out on a walk. Most looked vaguely interested in both Jacob’s recovery and Tim’s arrival, who, undoubtedly, was here for another roundabout discussion with few answers and even more questions.
Straightening, I brushed myself off and smoothed out my dress, which now clung annoyingly in all the wrong places, but I didn’t let my disheveled appearance dissuade me from marching directly to Jacob’s room as soon as I’d caught my breath. I arrived quickly but paused outside the door so that I could compose myself again. I didn’t dare peek through the peephole, afraid that I might see something that would scare me away, so as soon as I was ready, I pushed open the door, entered the room, and took in the scene.
Helena stood against the wall to my left, a hand covering her mouth and her eyes furrowed in deep concern. They were also red and swollen, most likely from stress and a lack of sleep, but I’m sure a few tears had worked their way out recently as well. But there was something else in her expression that suggested more than mere anxiety. Those bright eyes of hers, hidden now behind a puffy brow and deep redness, flitted left and right uncontrollably. She seemed deep in thought. I assumed she could have simply been concerned over Jacob, but I couldn’t help but think she had more on her mind. I wasn’t an expert at reading people, but even I could see it, and that told me more than I needed to know.
I turned to the center of the room and saw Jacob awake and sitting on the bed, his feet on the ground, his posture slumped, the lower portion of his left leg still in a thick cast. James sat to his right, using his stethoscope to check Jacob’s breathing, and Tim sat to his left, speaking quietly to him with a hand on his shoulder like a father consoling his
son.
I took in a sharp breath and felt my heart fill with elation at the sight of Jacob awake and apparently coherent, but it dampened immediately when I realized I couldn’t be sure who was sitting before me. Was he the old Jacob, the one who had been fun and immature, but also incredibly smart with a natural attitude that reminded people just how much they liked him? The man who was also a vainglorious egoist who felt responsibility at every misstep but also possessed a heart of gold? Or was he the warped and insane Jacob, the man who could kill a father figure, murder an entire village of people, and abandon the woman he loves just after she lost their baby? Or would he be something of both? A bit of this, a bit of that? Different than before entirely but also similar?
I took a step deeper into the room, the sound of my footfall snapping Jacob’s head upward in what appeared like a bout of severe paranoia, and I got my first good look at him in weeks. His haggard and gaunt face only hinted at the handsomeness I knew was once displayed there. His cheeks were sunken, his lips were cracked and red with dried blood, and large, dark circles filled the now deepened chasms beneath his eyes. There was also a haunted expression in those eyes, and I could see now that my quiet step had in fact spooked him. But it wasn’t until I realized his eyes showed little recognition of who I was, when he slowly looked away from me without greeting, that I knew the old Jacob was gone. Maybe his evil twin was gone as well, but the man before me wasn’t the one I’d known prior to our arrival in Britain.
I glanced at Helena but she continued to ignore me, as did James, who had just finished up his exam and was packing his things. He stood a moment later and moved to whisper something in Helena’s ear, who nodded at what she heard. He returned the gesture and walked away, moving past me, but not before reaching out and squeezing my arm consolingly just before he left.
I turned to face him. “Is he all right?”
He craned his neck around so that he could look at Jacob, and took a second before nodding slowly. “I hope so. His body is recovering, although he’s severely malnourished. His heart rate is consistently faster than normal and his blood pressure is high. But his reactions are normal and he appears cognizant, but… but it doesn’t take a bloody psychologist to know that his mind is broken. Maybe not destroyed, but definitely hurting.”
“Do you think he’ll recover?”
“Not my expertise, but…” he took a moment to consider, “…but I hope so.”
With that, he walked from the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. I turned back to Jacob and waited as Tim continued to speak to him, my brother nodding absentmindedly on occasion at what he was hearing. I felt myself leaning back against the wall. I didn’t want to disturb them. Tim knew I was here, and would speak to me when he was ready.
***
I waited for a long time, as many, many minutes ticked by before Jacob or Tim gave any sign that they were finished. Helena had stood almost motionless the entire time, except when she’d bit her nails or run a hand down her face distractedly. She looked nearly as ragged as Jacob, although her healthy weight and freshly grown hair helped keep her appearance up.
I wondered how I looked.
I guess I didn’t really care.
I glanced at my watch, a fancy military one Jacob had given me before we’d set out for Alexandria countless months ago. It had once belonged to their old commanding officer, Dillon Something, and had more functions than I knew what to do with, but it told time accurately enough, and that’s all I really cared about. Fourteen minutes had passed and I was growing restless, but then, finally, Tim pulled away from Jacob, stood, and walked away, leaving Jacob to stare at the ground alone. I’d thought Helena would move in immediately, but she didn’t, choosing instead to remain against the wall, her face continuing to suggest that she was distracted.
When Tim finally moved to stand beside me, in the toughest voice I could manage, I turned to him and asked, “What the hell did you tell him?”
“I told him little,” he said sadly, his eyes moving from Jacob’s hunched form to meet my own. “It was more of an apology.”
“For what?”
“For everything,” he whispered. “For using him to find Remus, for being aware of what the orb would do to him and giving it to him anyway, for keeping him from Helena for so long, for causing the death of his baby, for being responsible for all of you being in Ancient Rome, for giving the twin orbs to the twin sons of Rome in the first place, and for thinking myself capable of deciding who could wield such a power that had been wielded by no one for so long before that…”
I flinched at his recitation, surprised at his honesty and sadness. “That’s… a lot to apologize for.”
He nodded. “It is.” He sniffed out a sharp laugh, but stifled it almost as quickly. “And to think, in another timeline, there is a version of me completely oblivious to our torments here… I envy him.”
I stiffened, sick of any mention of alternate worlds. “He’s not the only one you need to apologize to.”
“I’d already begged for her forgiveness before you arrived.”
I nodded but didn’t respond. I’d meant that he should apologize to me, but was at least glad Helena had found some closure as well. I wondered if there had been more to Tim’s apology that had sent Helena into her introspective stupor, but Tim didn’t give me long to ponder as he grabbed me by the shoulder and led me from the room. Before we left, I turned to look over my shoulder and saw Helena finally move toward Jacob, but we were gone before I saw anything else.
Turning away, I fell into step with Tim as he led me from the room, and walked silently with him to the Atrium. The others were still there, and Jeanne and Madrina had returned as well, the pair appearing refreshed and happy, their large frames dominating the large room even though most of the others were all of substantial size as well. John, James, Jeanne, Alex, TJ, Georgia, Gaius, Titus, Madrina, and Archer all turned, lifted heads, or stood at our arrival, some clearly on edge, others weary of a life with no direction or answers, but each of them were attentive and ready for whatever came next. I had to imagine Tim had come here for more than a simple apology, so if he was prepared to say something of any kind of importance, now was the time to say it.
Luckily, he seemed to have come prepared.
“None of you are special,” he said, bluntly enough. “Not you Paul Archer,” he said, turning to the tall blonde man who sulked near the corner, “nor you Johnathon Santino,” he said, turning now to face John, who pointed at his chest innocently with a frown on his face, “nor you, Diana “Artie” Hunter,” he finished, finally turning his dark eyes on me. I tried to stare him down but failed completely, and looked at the floor.
Tim sighed, but then continued. “Nor is Jacob Hunter. In fact, very few people are what I would consider ‘special.’ Unique? In a way. Worthy of great things? Perhaps. But none of you were brought here for a reason and none of you were destined for this. You are all simply hapless fools who wandered into a situation so far beyond your understanding that you are perhaps the unluckiest group of individuals to have ever graced the cosmos. And yet, none of you are as unlucky as your friend in that room back there.”
He paused again, but I couldn’t imagine that he needed a moment to measure his thoughts.
“He’s been through more than you can ever imagine,” he continued. “You’re all soldiers, elite warriors from a number of backgrounds, proud individuals who conquered countless endeavors to become who you are, but none of that suffering, not all of it combined even, could ever hope to measure against what Jacob experienced in the last few weeks, let alone since he set out from Britain. He deserves your sympathy. He deserves your sadness. But what he needs is your support. For all his misfortune, he is lucky to have the few of you who never gave up on him, never entertained the idea of abandoning him. He needs that now. I can never ask you to forgive what he did to Vincent or for allying himself with Agrippina, but it was the orb’s influence that drove him to those acts, and it was I who
placed that orb in his hand. Do not blame him. Blame me if…”
“Enough with the speech, mate,” James interrupted, taking a step forward and jamming a finger in Tim’s direction. “If this whole bloody mess really is your fault, what’s to stop us from taking justice right here and now for Vincent?”
Jeanne stepped forward next. “What kind of careless individual would do what you did? Give such power to children…”
Georgia was next to say something, apparently too distracted with her own frustrations to realize she’d interrupted Jeanne. “I thought my home was bad! Now we have to deal with an egomaniacal god with all the power in the…”
It was at that point that the room burst into chaos, arguments and discussions popping up between individuals or small groups, everyone speaking and shouting over one another. Everyone had a different idea of what we should do now or who was responsible for what, and no two theories coincided. Jeanne and Madrina wanted to go back to Gaul while Titus demanded, as James had just suggested, justice for his father. TJ and Georgia found something to argue about and John jumped in against them both, while Gaius argued with the normally calm Alex about something I couldn’t even understand. And so on. Only Archer and I kept aloof from the conversation, myself too confused to develop an argument of my own while he probably thought no one would listen to him.
I glanced at him then, my eyes panning over his handsome face, a face I’d once thought the world of but could now barely even glance at without feeling sick to my stomach. At least, that’s how I’d felt long ago, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to hate him anymore for what he’d done. I would never forgive him for what he did to Jacob, and I had no idea what Jacob would do once he figured it out himself, but Archer seemed completely apologetic and had taken steps to atone for his misdeeds, and I had to respect that.
I turned back to the squalor around me, knowing I should say something, but I had no idea what to say. All I could think to do was turn to back Tim. “What was the point of all this? Of any of this? What didn’t Merlin tell Jacob when you sent him in search of the orb?”
All Roads Lead to Rome (The Praetorian Series Book 4) Page 37