Wrath of the Storm

by Jennifer A. Nielsen

  In my hand, the Jupiter Stone had drawn from the sheets that had fallen around me to become a sphere of bronze. Angular cracks split through the bronze like the antlers of a stag, while beams as bright as lightning shone through. It looked as if the lightning wanted to escape, but I knew what this really was. Jupiter, the ruler of the skies, was showing his power as greater than Diana's. It was the greatest magic both in the heavens and on the earth, the magic of the gods. At least for this small moment, I was one of them.

  And all I asked of the stone was one command: Destroy the amulets.

  The bulla responded first. It widened from the center, the gold stretching ever thinner and distorting the carved image of the griffin until it was unrecognizable. Finally, the seams burst, and when they did, the entire bulla exploded with it. The leather cord that had kept it around my neck fell harmlessly to the floor, the only proof that would ever remain of the bulla's existence.

  The Malice went next. The silver melted down my arm in a long line that dripped in heavy beads onto the altar. Every falling drop landed like the clang of a hammer and then melted into the stone.

  Finally, the Jupiter Stone enlarged until the room was bathed in its light. The beam it sent up through the oculus would be visible throughout all of Rome, perhaps throughout the empire. Perhaps as far away as wherever my family was now.

  The Jupiter Stone had become bright enough to blind me, but nowhere I turned could shield me from its light.

  Where was Aurelia? Was she still here? Was she safe?

  "Destroy yourself," I whispered to the stone, fully aware of the consequences of my order.

  Somewhere in the room, I thought I heard Aurelia crying out my name. She seemed so far away.

  Lightning came down again, a bolt that filled the room. I took hold of it, drawing all of its powers into myself. When the stone exploded, the lightning entered my heart. I felt its final beat. I felt the moment it stopped.

  And before I had fallen onto the altar below, my world had ended.

  If you hold a wolf by the ears, eventually you'll get bit.

  Isn't that what I tried to tell Nic, over and over? Why hadn't he listened?

  My name is Aurelia. I suppose this is my story ... now. It's one I never wanted to tell, but I will.

  If I had to describe what I saw, I would first speak of the noise, echoing throughout the Pantheon with such violence that it should have shattered the walls. But for me, it all happened in silence.

  The lightning disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived. And for a spare moment, I thought Nic would survive it. He looked at me, though I wasn't sure he saw me. Then there was a great flash of light, brighter than the lightning itself.

  When the light vanished, he fell.

  I screamed when it happened and lost my own grip on the wall. But before I landed, Caela appeared from out of nowhere to catch me. When we were a little lower to the ground, I jumped off her back, splashed into a full inch of water on the floor, and ran to where I could better see Nic.

  His collapse onto the altar broke it into three pieces. The three pieces of his heart, I imagined. One for his family, who meant so much to him that he had repeatedly sacrificed his freedom for their protection. One for Atroxia, a young vestalis who was connected to him in ways I still didn't understand. But I did think she reminded him of himself, of his hope for forgiveness and mercy. The third piece was for me. He loved me. He had told me so, and I had felt it in his kiss.

  Long before that, I had known how he felt. Even when he denied them, his feelings were never much of a mystery. Nic probably didn't even realize how often he stared at me when his mind was drifting off into other places. He stared, as if my face was the way he could rest from his troubles. I didn't mind that. I liked the expression in his eyes when he watched me. Besides, he always needed more rest.

  He was resting now, just in a very different way. I hated this. His heart was torn apart on that altar. My heart felt torn apart too.

  I screamed out again, my cries echoing throughout the Pantheon as a reflection of my pain. Smoke rose in quiet tendrils from Nic's body, and although some light rain had fallen for the first few seconds after he fell, it had stopped now. Everything had stopped now.

  At first, I didn't dare go any closer to him and looked at him only from a distance. Not because of any danger to my life, but because of the danger to my emotions. I couldn't bear to see him this way.

  Yet he had asked me to tell his story, and so I knew I had to go to him. He lay on his back between the three shattered pieces of the altar, with two arms and a leg over each of the three shards and the other leg lying on the floor.

  The lightning had completely destroyed the sandal on his right leg, which was bare now, but the left sandal was still there. I noticed and thought this was important because it was how I'd known Nic ever since our first meeting: With one foot in the life of a free man and the other still in bondage. I wished I had another pair of sandals for him. Wasn't he free now, finally? Maybe not the way he wanted, but he was free.

  With that thought, I collapsed beside him, nearly blinded by hot tears that stung my eyes and ripped at my heart. I had never known pain like this, never known it was possible to feel this way and still survive it.

  It took a bolt of lightning to end Nic's life. I felt as if I had been struck with the same force of destruction, except I would have to go on.

  But not yet.

  I took Nic's hand in mine. The tips of his fingers were still smoking and felt warm to the touch, but only for the intense heat that had just traveled through him. Nothing more.

  As the dark clouds overhead finally parted, the moonlight shone again through the oculus. I couldn't look at his face, couldn't make myself do it. If I did, I'd see it empty of the passion and humor and energy that had drawn me to him so strongly.

  I really had loved him. At least he had finally understood that, just as he had wanted me to understand his feelings.

  That brought on more tears. I was grateful to be alone. Anyone who thought of me as strong and warrior-like would never have believed it to see me this way now. I didn't care. The sorrow I felt was as much a part of me as my bow and arrows. But I still preferred to be alone. Nobody else would ever mourn for Nic the way I did, so nobody else should be here.

  I brushed my hand upon Nic's arm, and as I moved it into the moonlight, I saw something new. A dark red scar covered his arm, like the stems of a fern, or tiny branches of a stag's antlers. Through the pattern, it was obvious at every point where the lightning had moved through him.

  I checked his other arm and saw the same thing, as well as on his legs, though the patterns were lighter there. They would be on his back and chest too; I was sure of that. But I would not check. It didn't feel right to roll his body away from where he fell. Even if moving him didn't matter anymore, I wasn't capable of doing it. I could barely make myself move.

  So I knelt again beside him, this time maneuvering my body so that I was close enough to lay my head against his shoulder. The heat from the lightning was fading, and I didn't want that. I didn't want to feel him go cold. That was worse.

  A squawk sounded behind me, sad and quiet. I had forgotten Caela was here. When I turned, she was looking at me as if confused, curious about why Nic didn't rise up to greet her.

  Then she must've realized the reason for his silence. She bowed her head, sat near the altar, and looked at me.

  "What do you want me to say?" My tone was unkind, which wasn't fair to Caela, but I'd forgotten how to speak any other way. "I couldn't save him, and you didn't. Why did you leave when the storm began? Why didn't you fly in and take him away from here? You could've saved him!"

  I grabbed a chunk of rock from the altar and threw it toward Caela, who only ducked and then glanced behind her where it landed with a small splash. The rainwater was already draining from the room. By morning, it would be gone.

  Caela probably hadn't even understood me. She belonged to the gods, so she must be more int
elligent than other animals, but she gave no sign of understanding. She only tilted her eagle head, brushed her lion tail across the floor once or twice, and then lay down near the altar.

  I put my head back down on Nic's shoulder and let the tears continue to fall, each one disappearing into his wet tunic. A hole had been burned through the fabric near his chest. He'd destroyed these clothes too, as he had every other tunic Crispus had given him.

  I wouldn't marry Crispus. Livia loved him, and when they both were ready, it was right that they should marry. As for me, I doubted I would ever love again, but I could accept that. Once I made it to Britannia, I would improve my skills with the bow and learn other weapons too. Defend Nic's family if it ever became necessary. He would want that.

  I better understood now the guilt Nic had felt for not being able to save my father, or Valerius either. None of that was his fault. Nor was it my fault that I couldn't save Nic. But still the guilt pricked at me. How I wished I were stronger.

  Nic had probably understood for some time he would have to break the curse on the Mistress and that he would have to destroy the amulets. Despite his protests and his promises, he must've known he would end up making the Jupiter Stone. Nothing I would've done could have changed that.

  Hours seemed to pass before my tears finally dried. I was still as sad as before, but my tears had run out. I wondered how long it would be until morning came, and what would happen once it did.

  Temple worshippers would come. Or worse, people who had seen the storm and the light beaming up through the oculus. They would come out of curiosity and a desire for gossip. They would disturb Nic's body, carry him before the emperor as proof of his crimes against Rome.

  I would have to find a way to stop them, somehow. That seemed like a very big job, so for now I decided to sleep. Suddenly, nothing in me cared about what might happen tomorrow. I wasn't even entirely sure tomorrow would still come. Why should it?

  My swollen, tired eyes could not be held open a minute longer. I closed them and finally let myself sleep.

  Sunlight entered the Pantheon slowly, as if the new day were ashamed to begin after what night had taken away. But it wasn't anything so poetic, and I knew it. I was no dreamer of such things. The dim morning light was only because of the oculus at the very top of the building, and the torches that had gone out during the storm. Until the sun was high in the sky, this room would sit in shadow. For now, everything was faint and almost blurry, and I preferred that.

  It didn't help that my eyes were still swollen. Until I realized that, I had allowed myself to think this was a dream. That last night had not happened, and that Nic and I had only fallen asleep near each other, as we had in Caesar's temple shortly after we first met. In that imagined dream, I would lie here on his shoulder, enjoying the comfort of his arm around me, keeping me safe and warm and --

  Nic's arm was around me!

  I started to sit up, then kept my place. Perhaps this was the dream, and I was a dreamer after all. Perhaps I was only imagining that there had been enough magic within him to give him a faint spark of life.

  I raised my free hand to his chest and gently felt for a heartbeat. If it was there, I couldn't feel it, but his chest was rising and falling. Only a little. I wouldn't have even noticed if I had not been so close beside him. But he was alive.

  He was alive!

  I wanted to sit up and scream out his name and tell him he was alive, just in case he didn't know. But I wondered if suddenly hearing his name screamed out in this echo chamber of a building would actually frighten his heart into stopping again. I couldn't take the risk.

  So I kept my hand where it was, counting every rise and fall, and waiting between the long pauses for it to rise and fall again. It was so faint, so shallow, maybe I was imagining it. But there, it rose again, a little better this time! It was real!

  The reddish scars were still on his arms, and also on his neck, I noticed. The delicate branches imprinted onto his skin were beautiful in their own way. I wondered if they'd ever fade.

  We lay there for some time. He remained asleep, or half-alive, or whatever he was. I was afraid to move in the slightest, lest anything get worse. But something would have to change soon, when the worshippers arrived. What then?

  I decided to wait as long as possible, letting him rest and gather strength. If necessary, Caela and I would defend him once people started to come. I had a reason to defend him now.

  Where was my bow? I'd dropped it when the Mistress lunged for me, and the rainwater must've washed it into one of the alcoves. I wanted to find it, but I wouldn't leave Nic alone, not even for that long.

  How odd it was to realize that the people of Rome might never know what he had done to save the empire, or even the world beyond it. Last night, Nic had halted a rebellion of the gods. He had stopped a war here on earth and in the heavens.

  Maybe that was why he had asked me to tell his story. So that people would understand why everything had to happen the way it did.

  "Wake up," I whispered into his ear. "Wake up and tell your own story. I'm a terrible storyteller, you know that."

  He stirred a bit, though my soft whispers couldn't have been enough to wake him. His arm tightened around my shoulder, and his fingers twitched a little.

  "Nic?" I was louder this time.

  He didn't move.

  "Nic?"

  "Shh." His whisper was so quiet, I barely heard it.

  Still, I smiled, and sat up on one elbow. "Don't tell me to be quiet."

  "Then hush."

  I wanted to nudge him, just to tease him back. But I realized perhaps it hadn't been a tease at all. He was nodding, and his lips seemed to be moving slightly. He was listening to someone inside his head.

  Was it Atroxia? I knew he had a special connection to her, but he had freed her from the curse. Their connection should have ended. As far as I was concerned, she needed to get out of his head and stay out.

  After a moment, his arm moved again. I took his hand in mine and gave it a squeeze.

  "Aurelia?" He asked as if he didn't know the answer. Why weren't his eyes opening?

  "I'm here. Just rest."

  "Did I die?"

  "Yes." I scrunched up my face. "Or you mostly died, I'm not sure."

  "Did I come back?"

  I brushed my hand against his cheek. No scars were on his face, though I wouldn't have minded if there were.

  "Look at me, Nic. Open your eyes."

  They fluttered a bit, as if he was trying and not quite succeeding. I leaned in to him and gave him a light kiss. He might not have even felt it, but I wanted him to know I was here.

  When I sat up again, his eyes were open, just barely, but it was definitely him in there. He was even smiling a little, and that alone made me happier than I ever thought I would feel again.

  His smile quickly faded as a hollowness filled his eyes. He said, "My magic is gone. Whatever I had left, it took everything to bring me back."

  "I don't care about that," I whispered.

  "I think I destroyed the amulets. And the Divine Star is empty, if the scar is even still there."

  "You don't need them. The war is over."

  "It is?" He raised his head, appearing genuinely surprised. How could he not know?

  Explanations could wait until later. For now, I squeezed his hand. "It is."

  He laid his head back down on the altar. "That's why everything hurts."

  "It also doesn't help that you did battle with a bolt of lightning last night."

  "I lost that battle." Another weak grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "To win, I had to lose."

  "You did win, Nic. You're alive. All battles are over."

  His eyes closed, and when they opened again, a hint of mischief was in them. "So will you marry me or not? Before you answer, you'd better plan to keep your promise, because I won't let you out of it as easily as Crispus did."

  I jabbed my elbow into his side, though not too hard this time. "All of a s
udden promises matter to you? Like your promise not to make a Jupiter Stone?"

  "Like my promise to come back from it if I did." He drew in a slow, deliberate breath. "Help me up."

  He started to rise on his own, but it was clear he had no strength. That didn't matter to me. I would be strong enough for us both until he could keep himself standing.

  Caela got to her feet too. I forgot she had stayed near us last night. But Nic turned to her as if he had known all along that she was there.

  "I think I called her here, before the ... well ... before," he said. "When did she come back?"

  "After it was over."

  "Of course." He started in her direction, but his legs failed him. I laid one of his arms over my shoulder and then wrapped my arms around his waist to help him climb over the altar rubble. "Caela will take us out of here, before anyone comes."

  "Where are we going?"

  He looked over at me. "Britannia. We're leaving the empire."

  My heart leapt. Before now, every time Nic had spoken about Britannia, there was always doubt in his voice, even when he tried to convince me otherwise. But he seemed firm in his plans now. "How will you know where to go, without magic to guide us?"

  "Radulf was in my head. He's the one who woke me up. Caela brought him and Livia to Crispus's home. She will bring us there too."

  I did a double take. "Radulf? How could he be in your head?"

  "I don't know. Maybe I dreamed that too. But wherever my family is, Caela will get us there."

  By then we were on the solid floor of the Pantheon. Caela had to crouch very low so that Nic could roll onto her back. I got on behind him, and this time I would be the one to ensure he did not fall.

  Caela normally took off at steep angles, requiring her riders to hold on tight. This time, she rose gently, gliding into the air in wide circles around the Pantheon, with each round taking her higher and higher. By the time we reached the height of the dome, the first patrons of the temple had entered.

  "What happened in here?" someone asked.

  "Look, a griffin!" someone else said, pointing upward. "Wasn't that the animal the slave boy used to ride?"

  They couldn't see Nic or me on it. Caela's wings were spread too wide, and we were both low on her back.