We rode throughout a warm night, and were greeted in the early morning hours by dark skies that threatened rain. I didn’t mind rain, especially in these hot summer months, but I dreaded the idea of the storm growing worse. Perhaps the only thing I ever preferred about living in the mines was it allowed me to stay deep underground during thunderstorms. During the lightning.

Our wagon finally stopped just outside the walls of Rome. The guards had sent a rider ahead to arrange my sale and a meeting place, but I couldn’t see who had just bought me until he came around the back of the wagon and ordered me out.

My new owner was a handsome man who had the dark hair and eyes of an Arabian, and he had an intelligence about him that made me wary. I watched him carefully, hoping to get an idea for what kind of a master he would be. I didn’t need much. In fact at this point, I’d have been satisfied with anyone who kept me alive, based on Valerius’s warning. Once my new owner shook hands with the guard who had arranged my sale, he walked up and looked me over, the way he might examine a newly purchased horse. It was part of the process of acquiring a slave, I knew that, and yet I felt like little more than an animal beneath such coarse treatment. At least he untied the ropes around my wrists. That showed some sign of honor in him.

“My name is Felix,” he said. “I will be your master, but I am also a servant to Emperor Tacitus, ruler of the Roman Empire. So anything you do for me will also be a kindness to him.”

I didn’t care. I had no loyalty to Emperor Tacitus. Nor to Felix, for that matter. But I did understand that my only hope of avoiding the lion’s jaws in the arena was to make myself useful to him.

“And you’re Nic?”

“Nicolas Calva.”

He chuckled. “How did a slave get such a fine name? Will you add a cognomen to your title once you’re in Rome? Nicolas Calva Magnus perhaps? Are you grand enough for a title like that?”

“No, sir.” I glanced up at him with a grin. “Not yet.”

“Well, Nicolas Calva, you look hungry.”

I was always hungry, but for now, I said, “I’m thirsty.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had something to drink, and my mouth tasted like sand.

“We’ll get on the road soon, and I’ll have water for you then, all right?”

I nodded. My respect for Felix was growing.

Sal’s guards began helping a girl transfer Caela into a caravan wagon. Even though her ropes weren’t yet untied, Caela was already squawking with irritation. That concerned me, but for the moment, my attention was more on the girl.

Strange as it may sound, except for Livia, I had rarely seen any girls my own age. Girls who were born into the mines were quickly sold away, and the few women who were kept there to cook and tend to our wounds were usually widows of other miners. Livia only stayed because of Sal’s fondness for her. So although I tried not to stare at the girl, I wasn’t doing a very good job.

Her light brown hair was worn long and pulled away from her face. Her tunic was simple like mine, though a bit longer and in much better condition. Around her neck was a small crepundia, decorated with small wood carvings and trinkets that would have been made for her when she was a baby. I found it odd that she still wore it. She was working for Felix, so she wasn’t a patrician, but she had a knife at her belt, so I doubted she was a slave either. She must be a plebian, then. I liked the idea of having her life one day, not bound to any master, but no master of others either.

“Her name’s Aurelia and she’s as cuddly as a rabid bear,” Felix said, following my gaze. “She’ll be guarding you on the way into Rome, and you won’t want to cross with her.”

I’d already crossed with a griffin, and based on the sting in my shoulder, I’d lost that fight. I didn’t need to take on anyone who was compared to a bear. As if she had overheard us, Aurelia paused from her work to glare at me. I pretended not to notice, mostly because it would probably annoy her.

Felix continued, “I work in the venatio. Do you know what that is?”

It was the animal show that took place in the arena before the gladiator battles. Several of the miners had attended those games before and often described them to me while we worked. Some animals were put on display or taught to do tricks — since Caela was so rare, that’s what I figured she’d be asked to do. But most of the animals were made to fight one another, just as the gladiators did. The more brutal the show, and the more blood that was spilled, the louder Rome cheered.

When I nodded, Felix said, “Our next games are in two days, but I’m wondering if I’ll be able to keep the griffin for even the next two minutes.”

The guards were trying to pull Caela from the wagon, while Aurelia held the caravan door open. Caela was resisting the tugs on her ropes, then suddenly screeched and flared out her wings, breaking her bonds. Aurelia pulled out a knife and ran forward, but Caela swatted her to the ground and leapt from the wagon. Sal’s pathetic guards ran in fear and in seconds Caela had already driven them away, but Aurelia was trapped.

I ran forward and waved my arms while moving closer to Caela to calm her. Caela squawked at Aurelia, whose knife was still tight in her grip.

“Put that away!” I said. “You’re making her angry!”

“I’m making her angry?” Aurelia said. “She attacked me!”

I turned on my heel and yelled, “Then stop looking like someone who expects a fight. Put that knife away! I’ll manage the griffin!”

Aurelia opened her mouth to object, then shoved her knife into its sheath and backed away. More gently now, I turned to Caela and pointed to Felix’s caravan. “That’s for both of us. I’ll go in with you.”

Caela pawed at the ground, then walked with me up the short ramp and into the caravan. Once we were in, Felix said, “Nic, come back out.”

“I’d better stay with the griffin.”

“No. Come out now.”

He was eyeing me suspiciously, which made me nervous. But he had also promised me water, and I wouldn’t do anything that interfered with getting some. So I went down the ramp again and stood in front of him.

“I saw a tear in your tunic.”

My hand brushed against my side where the bulla was hidden. “There are several tears in it, sir. Perhaps you can get me a new tunic.”

“I might have to, because I thought I saw …” He put a hand on my shoulder, exactly where the strap of the bulla lay. I lowered my eyes, hoping he wouldn’t think anything of it, but knowing full well he would be curious. He reached beneath the tunic, pinched the strap between his thumb and forefinger, frowned at me, and then said, “Turn around.”

I didn’t want to. Valerius’s warning still rang in my ears, of the danger of showing anyone the scratch … or the mark. I wasn’t sure exactly what was there now.

But refusing a master would only earn me a bare-backed whipping, which would reveal the bulla faster. So I turned, expecting the worst. He widened the tear in the tunic until he could better see what he was looking for and even ran a finger over the scratch. I flinched when he did. Not because it hurt, exactly, but his touch sent a spark into my chest that forced me to move.

“Did the griffin do that?” he asked.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t want him to think Caela was dangerous, or else she might not be given to the emperor. I knew her fate if the emperor refused her.

He grunted and turned me to face him again. “Your master said I’d have no problem with you, but I’m beginning to doubt that.”

“I won’t cause any trouble.” I meant the words, but they still sounded untrue. Especially with the problem already hanging from a strap around my shoulder, which bore a scratch that people would kill for.