Felix frowned. “Not yet. But she will have her chance to eat.”

So I got to my feet and followed Felix, who led me up the ramp and back outside. I was so grateful to be away from the fetid heat that it would’ve been enough just to stay here in the open air, but then, he had also offered me food.

As we walked, Felix gestured to a throng of people gathered on a corner of the road who were holding out sacks of coins and yelling at one another. Felix asked if I knew what they were doing, but I only shrugged.

“Setting up their bets for the games,” he said. “Mostly on which gladiator they expect to win. By the end of the day’s events, some wealthy men will have lost everything as a lucky plebian walks away with his toga and his home.”

I squinted into the sun to look at them. “It looks like a mob.”

“It is a mob,” he said, then stopped and looked down at me. “All of Rome is a mob. The emperor and his senators prance about as rulers do, but they know how fragile Rome really is. Without the Praetors, it would’ve collapsed already.”

“Praetors?” I asked.

Felix motioned around us. “They’re the ones who really run this empire. The Praetors are our judges, governors, and administrators. They provide bread for the bellies and distraction with the games. But that’s only their public face. In private, they are —” He stopped, as if he couldn’t force out the rest of his words.

“Are what?” I asked.

“They are dangerous!” He drew in a sharp breath. “But Rome needs them. Without the Praetors, the mob becomes … a mob.”

I thought about Radulf’s claim back at the mines, that he would crush the empire in his fist. Were the Praetors part of his plan? I wondered.

We walked in silence until Felix pointed to a wide hill in front of us. “Do you know the name of that place?”

I shrugged, but held my tongue. How would I possibly know that?

“It’s Palatine Hill, the center of the seven hills of Rome. The emperor has his palace there, but that’s not why I’m showing it to you. That, my friend, is the most sacred place in Rome. Do you know why?”

I figured it had something to do with the gods, because as far as I could tell, everything did in the Roman Empire. But I knew nothing else.

“A thousand years ago, the twin sons of the god Mars, Romulus and Remus, decided to form a new city on this very spot. Romulus stood on Palatine Hill. Remus stood on Aventine Hill, behind it. Whichever twin saw the first bird would know he was the rightful king.”

I pictured Caela in my mind. More perfect than any bird of the skies, or animal of the land.

“As the story goes, Remus saw the first bird,” Felix continued. “But immediately after, Romulus saw a flock of ten birds. Which was the greater sign? Each brother claimed the right to the throne. As Remus and Romulus fought for control of the land, Romulus killed his brother, then founded the city of Rome on that spot.” Felix eyed me sideways. “Before you can understand Rome, you must understand where we began. We are a product of our history of violence, betrayal, and blood.”

I was still thinking of Caela, the way I had abandoned her in that cage. “I know about the execution of criminals at the games, and the gladiators who battle one another,” I said warily. “I know those animals must be sent into the amphitheater as part of the battles, but what will happen to the griffin? Surely she is not part of the venatio. She is a gift to the emperor, right?”

Felix drew in a breath and released it with a sigh. “In two days, the emperor will be watching the games. Then he will see who is stronger, his mighty gladiators or the griffin, animal of the gods.”

I closed my eyes and tried to absorb the horror I felt. The venatio was a hunt — Felix had told me that, but I had never thought it included Caela. Inexperienced and too eager to please, I had just led Caela into a cage to await her turn to die. I had only one friend left in this world, and with that betrayal, I was already becoming a part of Rome.

Eventually, Felix led me to his home, a small wooden box behind a loud tavern and within perfect view of a much larger, fancier building called the Ludus Magnus, where the gladiators received their training. Felix gazed around the spare furnishings of his home and sighed. “It isn’t much, but it’s what I’ve been given.”

Maybe it wasn’t much to him, but I had trouble believing an entire room had been granted to only one man. One day, I would achieve something like this for myself. I would have my own four walls.

Felix picked up a tunic from his table and handed it to me. It was no fancier than my current one, but it was clean and would hide the mark on my shoulder.

“Thank you,” I said, already changing out of my old one. I couldn’t wait to be rid of it.

Felix next went to a cupboard and pulled out some drink, which he poured for me, and some bread and cheese. He placed them on a small table and then invited me to sit beside him on the floor. “Please,” he said, motioning toward the items. “Have all you want.”

All I wanted was everything he had set out, and more. But I didn’t reach for any of it. Not yet.

“Why are you helping me?” I tried not to sound as suspicious as I felt. “None of the other slaves are here.”

“Is that how you see yourself, Nic, as a slave?”

“Why does it matter how I see myself?” I folded my hands together. “You bought me. You ordered me to cage up a griffin who’ll go to her death in two days, and I obeyed, because you own me.”

Felix hesitated a moment before cutting a slice of cheese, which he held out to me. I popped a piece into my mouth. It was one of the most delicious things I’d ever eaten, and I quickly ate the rest. He cut me a second slice, thicker than the one before, and offered it, but this one I held in my hand. None of this made any sense. Slaves were never treated so kindly by their masters.

Then it became clear. Felix set down the knife and said, “I want to see that bulla now.”

Rather than answer, I ate the second slice of cheese. Not necessarily because I wanted it, but because I needed time to figure out what to do. I couldn’t allow him to take the bulla from me. And I wouldn’t let him give it to Radulf who seemed to know things about this bulla that I didn’t. If Felix intended to take it, how much of a fight would it require to stop him?

But refusing him didn’t exactly solve my problems. Maybe I lacked enough good sense to keep from stealing the bulla in the first place, but now that I had, I also had to acknowledge that I’d waded into waters that were far over my head. I needed his help. After a little maneuvering with my arm, I withdrew the bulla from beneath the tunic and held it up for him. I hadn’t looked directly at the amulet since hiding it. Now I realized the faint glow that had been there the first time I saw it was still there. I started to remove the bulla, then left it around my neck, just to be clear that it was mine. Which really, it wasn’t.

Felix leaned over and held the bulla in his hands. I waited for him to comment on its warmth or the vibration whenever it was touched directly, but he said nothing and didn’t even seem to feel the difference between this and any other object. Even the glow seemed to escape his attention. He merely brushed a finger over the initials carved on the front and the griffin on the back, then let it fall back to my chest.

“Do you know who that belonged to?” he asked.

“Caesar,” I mumbled. “It was his.”

“Did you know that Caesar used to claim he was a descendent of the goddess Venus?”