And this time, my will was not enough. The bulla had gone cold on me. Maybe because I was afraid to use it. Without even meaning to do anything, I had unleashed a magic in the arena that I did not understand and could not control. There were thousands of people at the games, every one of them endangered because of my recklessness. For all I knew, using magic in these tunnels might bring an entire street down over my head and any number of people with it.

Only the gods were meant to have magic. It was never intended for someone like me. I grabbed the bulla’s strap and tried to pull it over my injured arm, but my arm ached too badly to move it. So instead I cursed loud enough for the gods to hear and kicked at the sewer wall with all the strength I had left.

“It’s dangerous for any slave to have such a temper,” someone said. “It’s worse when that slave has the power to use his temper against fifty thousand people.”

Aurelia.

I swerved around so fast that I slipped and fell back into the sewage again. With the sting in my arm, I sprang back to my feet with lightning speed and then bumped my head on the curved wall above me. Truly, my grace was no better than my magic.

Aurelia stood in front of me, arms crossed and eyes narrowed like she was staring at a madman. Even in the darkness, I saw that Aurelia was better armed than she had been on the surface. She had a bow slung over one shoulder and a quiver full of arrows on her back. She had all sorts of tiny sachets attached to a belt around her waist, as well as the long knife I had seen before. As far as I knew, she was armed in twenty other ways I couldn’t even see.

“It’s not a temper, just desperation.” I stepped toward her. “I need help.”

She took the same number of steps backward and put a hand on her knife. “Don’t come any closer, Nic. I’m warning you.”

I stopped and, through the little light seeping in from the grate, tried to read her expression. Her eyes were wary and watchful and her jaw was tense. She was afraid of me, probably for good reason. I raised one hand to her, hoping to show I wasn’t armed, but she flinched.

“I won’t hurt you,” I said. “I would never —”

“I was in the amphitheater. I saw what you did. Lots of people got hurt trying to escape. Some people didn’t escape at all.”

The hand of my injured arm wrapped over the bulla as it warmed again. “I don’t know how that happened. I didn’t mean for any of that.”

My explanation wasn’t working. She shook her head, undoubtedly trying to figure out how to get away from me, but I couldn’t let that happen. With every passing moment, I felt another piece of my life slipping away. I was dying in here.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

The bulla finally warmed and traveled to the wing of my shoulder. Everything about me felt warm, even hot. I didn’t want to feel magic now, not when I was trying to convince her there was no danger in being near me.

“No,” I mumbled, not sure if I was responding to her or trying to command the bulla. I fought against the heat inside, but as weak as I was, the magic wanted to take over. Not here, not now. Not ever again. A sudden feeling of dizziness swam through me. I set a hand on the sewer wall to keep myself from falling, and the wall shook, as if something were trying to break out from behind it. It happened only once, but it startled me and I immediately let go.

Aurelia put out both hands as if ready for a fight. “Did you do that?”

“Please help me.” I was about to black out. “I’m drowning.” I lowered my hand and took another step forward.

Before I had any chance to react, she kicked out a leg and connected directly with the wound in my arm. I cried out with pain and splashed into the rancid water, but this time I couldn’t get up again. The bulla tried to help — I felt it trying, but there was nothing left inside me now.

“I’m sorry.” She crouched down to help me up. “You scared me, that’s all.” She grabbed my hand, then touched it with her other hand. “Nic, you’re burning with fever.” Her hand ran up to the injury in my arm, and through my haze, I heard her draw in a breath. “It’s infected.”

“I won’t hurt you,” I said, and then everything faded around me.

My eyes opened slowly and unwillingly. I would’ve preferred to remain asleep, but at some point, the need to know where I was overpowered my desire to roll over and let everything vanish again.

Except for a few candles around me, the room was dark. Since there were no windows, I wondered if it was day or night, and how much time had passed since I had last opened my eyes. The room was round with dark bricks stacked as high as I could see, and one doorway leading to an outer room had faint light streaming in from overhead. So we were still underground. It seemed quiet at first, but then I noticed a buzzing sound nearby. No, not buzzing. As I became more awake, I realized it was the sound of voices.

Suddenly a face appeared right in front of mine and I yelped with surprise. It was a little girl, with dark African skin and large eyes. She didn’t look half my age, but was already quite pretty.

“He’s awake!” she called. “Aurelia, he’s awake!”

I sat up on one elbow and saw Aurelia stride across the room toward me. Her mouth was pressed into a tight line. Her whole face looked strained actually, and I wondered if that was because I had slept so long. Or because I was awake.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Awful.”

She frowned and folded her arms. “You look awful. But that’s an improvement from before.”

“How long was I out?”

“Two days. The infection in your arm was so bad we almost had to cut it off, but we decided to scrub it and see if it could be saved. It was a good thing you were sleeping so deeply, because the cleaning would’ve made you faint again anyway.”

“I didn’t faint,” I muttered. Fainting was for weak rich women who had slaves to catch them when they fell.

“Sure. If you want to believe that.”

Well, I did. I wasn’t weak. Though I did have to lie back down again as dizziness swarmed my head.

“You need food.” She twisted behind her and then returned with a bowl in her hands. She thrust it at me and whatever was in there looked gray and mushy, but at least it was warm. “Eat this.”

“What is it?”

“Only people with money get to ask such a question. It will do you good. Now eat.”

I smelled it first, and happily realized it didn’t smell like the sewers, or wherever we were. Not that the stuff in the bowl smelled good — it was some sort of porridge that probably had gone sour. But I began eating anyway. She was right, about the poor not being choosey.

“Before you fainted, you said you were drowning.” Aurelia pursed her lips.

“No, I didn’t,” I said with a mouthful of food. “I wasn’t.”

“Well, you said it,” Amelia insisted. “What did you mean?”

Then I remembered the bulla. I felt for it at my hip, and tried to find the strap at my neck, but it was gone. My temper instantly rose. “Where is it?”

She folded her arms. “I hid it. How did you do the magic in the amphitheater?”

That was none of her business. I put the bowl aside and sat fully up in the bed. “Give me the bulla.”

“Not until you explain what happened. Magic belongs to the gods. Not to humans, and certainly not to a slave boy.”

“And the bulla doesn’t belong to you!” I said. “Give it to me and I’ll go.”

“Go where? You’re lost down here. Besides, I felt the bulla myself. There’s nothing different about it than any other trinket. You just want it for the jewels inside. I think the magic is in that mark on your shoulder. We would’ve cut that off too, if I’d known how.”