He pulled his hands away. ‘Poppy sap might ease the pain. Just a drop.’
‘I’ve had enough for one life, thanks.’ Felix cradled his injured arm and fished for grapes with his other. ‘Tell me what you want from me.’
Rolling his surgical tools, Loren ruminated on how to approach the topic. Their question-for-question game earlier had got him nowhere, so perhaps it was time to be blunt. But asking,What are you?seemed impolite. So did saying,I’ve seen the destruction you plan to cause.And,Sorry for claiming responsibility for you without permission, but I can’t let you leave until I learn why you haunt me. Truce?was off the table.
‘The man who chased you here . . .’ Loren paused. Changed tactics. ‘Petty theft isn’t unusual in Pompeii.’
‘What’s your question?’
‘Most guards wouldn’t expend that much effort.’
‘For the right price, guards will do anything,’ Felix said. ‘I took something. Someone else wanted what I took.’
‘Who?’
‘Some statesman. I was too busy running for my life to catch his name.’ His tone was dry, but he radiated discomfort. He sat strangely, perched on the edge of his chair, ready to take flight. He wouldn’t get far. The Priest was holding session in the courtyard. Isis didn’t attract many outside their small attendant circle, but Felix still wouldn’t make it halfway without being seen.
‘I don’t have an issue with thieves,’ said Loren. ‘Most take what they need to survive. I respect that. But whatever you stole must be valuable. What was it?’
‘What difference does it make?’
Loren locked eyes with him. Felix’s were grey as rain-heavy clouds and twice as threatening. ‘Because I saved your life. Because Sera would sell you back to that soldier, or Camilia would turn you onto the streets to be caught anyway. Because your blood made the ground shake—’
‘Did not.’
‘– and I’m protecting you now,Just Felix, yet you won’t offer the courtesy of your full name, let alone your business in my city.’
‘I didn’t ask for that.’ Lithe and slippery, Felix leaped to his feet. ‘If I have a family name, I don’t remember. And I don’t want your protection. If you’re looking for gratitude, consider this your thank you.’
‘If you leave alone, I won’t be able to shield you.’
‘I suppose I’ll risk it.’ Felix left.
Loren gave him a two-second head start. Then he followed, head pounding at the dull familiarity of watching Felix bolt into the hall. This time he didn’t have the advantage of Camilia’s brute strength. Maybe he wouldn’t need it.
He stopped short at the scene in the courtyard. The noise hit him first, dozens of murmuring voices that hadn’t reached the private quarters. A crowd swarmed, far more people than the Priest’s sessions typically attracted, and nervous agitation buzzed. Lingering fear from the quakes, perhaps, prompting folks to seek comfort in faith. But there must be more to it than that. Loren had experienced a dozen quakes since arriving in Pompeii, and none had caused such a stir.
Felix froze beneath the shelter of the portico, half hidden behind a column, tracking the gathering. Calculating his next move.
‘Something else must have happened.’ Loren sidled beside Felix. ‘This is strange for Isis.’
Felix’s mouth tightened. ‘Is that the only exit?’
‘You won’t make it out unnoticed if that’s your concern. Even if you did, the city is teeming with guards this week, extra security for the festival. You can’t leave without me.’ Loren pulled off his veil. ‘But I’ll let you borrow this. A disguise might help.’
‘Tell me what you want from me.’
‘Tell me what you stole.’
Felix considered him for a long moment, face calculating, then let out a mirthless laugh. ‘Fine. Maybe you can explain what all the fuss is about.’
In the end, they both wore veils, but Loren left his braid free and recognisable. He may not have much influence in the city, but if being known as ‘that strange boy from the strange temple’ kept a gladius from skewering Felix, he’d take the side-long glances as they came.
Felix had to be more careful. His hair was too distinctive, shining copper in the mid-afternoon sun. Even swathed in a headscarf, he still stuck out in his bloodstained clothes.
‘Remind me to take you tunic shopping later,’ Loren muttered as they stepped into the alley. ‘You look like a gladiator who fought a bear, and the bear won.’
It won a scowl from Felix, which Loren accepted as the best he’d get.
