The storm passed quickly and it wasn’t long afterward that the wagon stopped too and our doors opened. I put a hand on Caela to steady her from jumping out at any strangers, but it was only Felix who appeared.

“We’re at the gates of Rome,” he said. “It should be safe to come out now, if you want to enter the city with me.”

My heart leapt at the opportunity. I hadn’t expected to be allowed to enter this way, like a freeborn. I told Caela to be good, knowing full well she’d do whatever she wanted anyway, and then scrambled out of the wagon.

Aurelia started to follow, then Felix held up a hand to her. “You’re paid to watch that griffin,” he reminded her.

She shook her head. “I won’t stay in there alone. It doesn’t like me.”

I smiled, but said nothing. The joke was far too obvious.

He sighed. “Then ride on the back. Nic and I need to talk up front.”

My grin widened, and I made sure she saw it. “If the griffin makes a mess in there, be sure to clean it up.”

She growled back at me, or something very close to it, which only made me happier. Felix returned to the seat of the wagon and then invited me to sit beside him. I couldn’t climb up fast enough. Once I was in place, he handed me a sack of olives. I ate five before realizing that he probably hadn’t intended for me to eat them all. There were only a few left. Before I could debate the wisdom of my actions, I ate them too.

Now that we were alone, I wanted to ask Felix about the scratch from Caela, or whatever mark he said was there instead. With Aurelia watching me so carefully from the wagon, I hadn’t dared feel for it again, but the mark wasn’t my only concern. The bulla still hidden beneath my tunic warmed every time I thought about the mark. It was warming now, in fact. Surely that was no coincidence.

“Thanks for the olives,” I said to Felix. It seemed like a safe way to begin the conversation.

“Where did you get the bulla?” Obviously, Felix was more direct than me.

I scratched my head while I considered an answer, and finally came up with, “I found it.” It might not be the full story, but it was true enough for his question.

“How long have you had it?”

“Only a couple of days.”

“And that mark on your shoulder was a scratch from the griffin?”

“Nothing was there before, not until the scratch. What is the mark?”

Felix sighed. “The shape is unmistakable: a circle of fire, with a trail behind it like smoke. The entire mark is blood-colored.”

“And what does it mean?”

“It means you’re in a lot more trouble than you know.” Felix pointed ahead to a massive brick wall that he said now surrounded the entire city of Rome. “They say it’s to keep the barbarians out. But I sometimes wonder if the real barbarians don’t already live inside these walls.”

The arched wooden gate through which our wagons would enter was large enough for a giant and wide enough for men to walk across it from above. Spaced apart every hundred feet were square turrets to protect Roman soldiers if they had to fight during an invasion. As we came closer, several men blocked the road and held up hands for us to stop. They wore the same red-cloaked uniforms as the soldiers who had come to the mines with Radulf, and that was enough to make me uncomfortable. Were they involved in his treason too?

I pressed a hand against the bulla at my side, then noticed it vibrate beneath my touch.

Felix noticed. “Don’t do that,” he said. “Put your hands in your lap and try to look relaxed.” I obeyed and he added, “I’ll want to see that bulla next time we’re alone.”

Maybe. I didn’t really want to show him, but he seemed to know more about it than I did. Besides, if my troubles were as bad as he suggested, then I definitely needed someone’s help.

When we drew up to the soldiers, Felix told them who he was and about the griffin he was bringing in.

A soldier eyed me. “You have new slaves too?”

“Just this one.” Felix’s tone was relaxed, a reminder for me not to look as guilt-ridden as I felt. He brushed his arm toward me, pushing my hand away from the bulla again, and then added, “He isn’t worth much, but he’ll be of some use with the animals.”

“Since when does a worthless slave ride up front with his master?” The soldier drew his sword and used it to point at me. “Climb down here, boy.”

What if Radulf had told them to watch for a slave with a bulla? What if they saw the tear in my tunic? My heart pounded as I considered my options, all of which ended with me on Caela’s back, attempting to outrace the soldiers’ arrows. Or Aurelia’s knife — I wasn’t sure whose side she’d be on. Either way, Caela would have to break herself out.

As if she had heard my thoughts, there was a sudden banging in the caravan, so fierce it nearly overturned the wagon. The soldiers jumped back and Felix began shouting about letting us pass before his cargo became truly angry. But I was more focused on a sizzling sting in my shoulder that seemed connected to Caela’s squawking. She had heard my thoughts. Just as the mark was a part of me now, and the bulla, she had become a part of me too.

“Move on,” the soldier shouted, waving us on. “Get that animal into a cage where it belongs!” Felix immediately obeyed, though he brushed my hand away from the bulla yet again as we passed between the gates.

“It’s safe now,” I communicated to Caela. “Be calm.” And as she settled down, the sting in my shoulder eased too.

“Can you explain what just happened?” Felix muttered.

“No.” Well, I could explain it, but I wouldn’t. Not until I better understood it myself.

Minutes later, as we crossed the bridge over the Tiber River, I began breathing more evenly, and Felix’s knuckles around the horse’s reins were no longer white. The river was wide and powerful, though I wasn’t sure how deep it went. I only knew that I didn’t care to find out. On the opposite side, a small brick arch was dug into the bank with dark water pouring into the river.

“That’s the Cloaca Maxima,” Felix said when I pointed it out to him. “Rome brings in new water from all over the land on great aqueducts above our heads, and then sends the old water out again in the sewers beneath our feet.”

The very notion of sewers running below ground was amazing. One of my few memories from Gaul was having sewage accidentally tossed on me while walking down a road. I couldn’t imagine a place where water freely came and went, where thirst wasn’t a daily problem.

As Rome came into view, my eyes fixed upon the aqueducts, large enough that I doubted anyone but the gods could have built them. Their massive arches towered over tall brick buildings that served as homes, shops, and majestic public forums. Shoddier ones were constructed of wood, many of which had burn scars on them, and I wondered what would happen to this city if a fire ever raged out of control.

Around us, the streets bustled with people and carts and wagons, everyone with someplace to go and a job to do. I’d never seen so many people in my life. I had no idea that so many people even existed.

As we came closer to the center of Rome, the buildings grew finer and so grand they stole my breath away. Each one seemed like a palace, lining the streets with white marble walls and columns, or thick, square-cut granite, all of them trimmed with gold, silver, or copper. These were the very materials I had mined for the last five years, which meant that in some way, I had been part of building Rome all this time, and never known it.

“Is this Elysium?” I whispered to Felix, for it seemed impossible that so much beauty could exist anywhere but in the afterlife.