“So is yours,” one of the soldiers replied.

I raised a hand, palm out. It lacked any feeling of magic, and I was empty of any physical strength beyond what I needed to remain upright, but he didn’t know that. “The emperor must know about the Praetor War,” I said. “If he rescinds the order of death upon me, I can help him.”

“This isn’t about the emperor’s orders,” a voice said from behind me. “He’s thinking about my plans for you.”

I turned so fast that I nearly rolled off Caela. Radulf stood in the doorway, looking far more rested from our fight than I felt. But I didn’t understand. How could Radulf be here, standing in the courtyard of the emperor’s palace, as if it were his own?

“You?” I blinked twice to be sure. “Where is Tacitus?”

“His Highness has just returned to Gaul for a military campaign there, leaving me in charge. After five centuries of rule, with millions of my people slaughtered or enslaved, apparently Rome still has not yet conquered it enough. So the wars continue.”

“You’re a general of Rome,” I said. “You were a part of those wars!”

“Was I?” He sounded amused. “Or am I the reason why Rome must still continue to battle those … barbarians? Because perhaps Rome has a barbarian at the head of its armies? My soldiers will never betray me.”

“Maybe they’re just waiting for the right time. Later today, if we’re lucky.”

Radulf motioned for his men to raise their bows at Caela. “Get rid of that bird,” he said. “Or else we’ll cook it for supper.”

“No!” I raised a hand, hoping for enough magic to repel them, but still there was nothing. That was no small surprise. The bulla was empty.

Caela angrily cawed back at him. Even if she didn’t understand his words, she would know the cruel tone of his voice. I nudged her side, urging her to take flight again, but as she reared back, I lost my grip and fell to the marble floor. The bows arced in her direction and I kicked at her leg, urging her into the air. “Go,” I said to her. “Leave me — now!”

Caela looked back at me, but I swatted at her again, and then ducked as she spread her wings and flew away. I was alone, once more. Probably never to see her again.

Radulf’s soldiers turned their arrows toward me. “How is your magic?” Radulf asked.

With great effort, I got to my feet and stood tall, hoping it would hide the fact that I felt absolutely nothing. The bulla weighed less now, and hung cold against my chest. “How’s your reputation?” I countered. “At least fifty thousand Romans saw what you really are. They know you killed Horatio. The emperor can’t be far from here yet. How long until he learns the truth?”

“The emperor is probably dead already,” Radulf said. “There must be consequences for the bargain he made with you.”

That sent a chill through me. Warily, I said, “I proposed that bargain, not him.”

“But he agreed to it. Hardly a show of good will for his finest general. A new emperor will be chosen within days. For his sake, I hope that I like him better.”

“You’ve killed the emperor?” I couldn’t believe it was possible.

“A blow for the empire on the day Valerius chooses to declare war against me,” Radulf said. “And as for the rest of Rome, like rulers of this empire have done for centuries, I’ll distract the mob with bread and circuses. They’ll do whatever they’re told.”

“I will stop you,” I said.

“You’ll save the empire?” He chuckled at that. “You couldn’t even save yourself in the arena. And you can’t defend yourself now.”

I wanted to argue that, desperately, but I couldn’t. And we both knew it. Somewhere behind me, something rattled. It was a sound I had heard far too often in my life. My heart lurched into my throat.

Radulf nodded to his soldiers. “Put this runaway slave back in his chains. Prepare the branding iron so he will never forget what he is.”

“No,” I yelled. “No!” I scrambled to get away, but they brought me down before I could get much of a hit at any of them. The soldiers threw me to the floor, yanked my arms behind me, and cuffed me in manacles, then attached them to chains around my ankles. I cried out, not from pain, but from the horror of what it meant to be reduced once again to property. I had promised myself I would never return to this life, and without any meaningful fight, Radulf had stolen that promise away. Like he had taken Livia. Like he had pulled the magic from my shoulder.

Once I was confined, Radulf knelt beside me. He lifted the bulla from around my neck and lowered it around his. I felt the loss immediately, not only the difference in weight, but as if he had taken away the last piece of my life. It would’ve been easier if he had taken my heart. I was nothing now anyway.

“Can you feel its magic?” one of his soldiers asked.

Radulf’s smile was wicked, but not convincing. “The powers come on slowly. It will take time.”

“All hail General Radulf,” the soldier said to the cheers of the other men.

“What shall I do with you now?” Radulf asked me. “I can’t return you to the mines. You can’t work the venatio. So there are really only two options.”

“Kill me, then.” I spat the words at him. “I won’t join you.”

“Your willingness to die is admirable,” he said. “But will you sacrifice her?”

He nodded permission at a soldier who went out the door and returned with someone in his grip. Livia.

My heart pounded as my sister was brought forward. It felt like years since I had seen her. How much older she looked. How much healthier she already appeared.

The curls in her hair hadn’t changed, nor the gentleness in her eyes. This was undoubtedly the real Livia and not some image projected by Radulf, because she reacted the moment she saw me. Her eyes filled with tears and she rushed to my side on the floor.

“Nic! Are you injured? Why are you still in chains?”

I wasn’t still in chains. I was back in chains, and this time they seemed to burn my flesh like never before. I pulled against them, hoping to find some new strength, but the chains held strong. I hated them, and hated myself in them.

Radulf stood and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “As I’ve been telling you, Livia, your brother is in more trouble than he realizes. Help him understand.”

Lines of sympathy were etched in Livia’s face. In her gentlest tone, she said, “It’s time to stop fighting. General Radulf will be our pater familias.”

“Don’t call him that!” I yelled. He was not part of our household, much less the head of it. He would not be honored with such a term.

“He saved me from the mines. He’ll save you too if you let him.”

A burning smell entered the courtyard, and I craned my neck to look for its source. It was one of Radulf’s men, carrying the branding iron, white-hot at the tip. Blood rushed to my head as I stared at it, wide-eyed and scarcely able to breathe.

Radulf kept his eyes on me. “They say you can feel the burning forever, even into the next life. Maybe it’s cruel, especially for someone so young, but that’s the penalty for an escaped slave. Is this who you are, Nic? Nothing more than property?”

“What do I care if you use it?” I growled louder to cover up the shaking of my voice. “You’ll only kill me anyway.”

Radulf crouched down beside me. “Stop this stubbornness. Who am I?”

I gritted my teeth, resisting with everything I had against the truth that had pricked at me ever since our first meeting. The branding iron came closer. I heard it sizzle and tried not to think of how it would feel pressed against my forehead.

He grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him. “Who am I? What should you call me, Nic? You know the answer. Now say it!”

Yes, I knew it. It had been the last word on my mind each day and given me nightmares as I slept. The word tasted like acid in my mouth and burned as I spoke. “Grandfather.”