Page 105 of Vesuvius

‘Clearly.’ Elias looked him over. ‘And he is . . .’

Impressive how only a few words into the conversation, Felix already regretted his choice to come here. Fatigue weighed on him. Spending the hours between dawn and the quake negotiating with Servius for scraps had worn him ragged. Sparring verbal rounds with tricky-talking Elias would shred what was left.

But he needed somewhere to collect himself. Darius would find him here soon enough, but first, Felix wanted proof that any of this had happened at all.

When he made to skirt past Elias, fingers gripped his ankle tight. ‘Where is he?’

Felix kicked free. ‘Why should I know?’

‘Because,’ Elias said, rising until their faces were a fraction apart, and Felix smelled wine on his breath. ‘You left with him yesterday. Now you return alone.’

‘He’s weepy. I grew tired of listening.’

‘Liar.’

‘And he’s easy. I got what I wanted.’

‘Liar.’ A hand landed on Felix’s shoulder, nails digging into flesh. ‘If you wanted easy, you’d have come to me.’

‘You’re expensive.’

Elias snorted. ‘My rates are reasonable. Practically charity.’

‘I ditched him,’ Felix said. ‘Returned the helmet. It’s better this way. For me, at least.’

‘I believe that.’ Elias scrutinised him, but not the way Loren tried to read Felix, as a text worthy of careful study. Elias read him like a piece of vulgar graffiti, looking for confirmation of what he already knew. After amoment, he relaxed his grip, and Felix beelined for the stairs. ‘Where are you going now?’

‘Somewhere far from this shithole town,’ Felix called over his shoulder. ‘If you were smart, you would leave, too.’

On the second-floor landing, Loren’s door stood slightly ajar. Felix hesitated before pushing it further.

It swung to reveal chaos, as though a storm had coursed through the newly broken shutters and turned everything over. Linens were stripped from the narrow bed, mattress slashed, straw scattered in tufts. The trunk of personal items had been broken into, contents strewn. Clothes torn, winter boots missing their soles. Shreds of papyrus, the scrap ofThe Iliad, stirred in the draft.

This hadn’t been a search. This was a threat. This said,You cannot hide from us.

Felix took a cautious step in, and something crunched under his sandal. Fragments of a jar. He picked up a shard stamped with a familiar emblem, the Lassius crest. Same as the signet ring he’d wrested off his finger and returned to . . .

Clay clattered back to the floor. Why had Felix come here?Sentiment?Had he thought he’d find something to cling to wherever Servius dragged him next?

Fuck that. Felix kicked a pile of straw and it burst into a cloud. It didn’t make him feel better. Emotion swelled in his chest, bitter, bleak grief. Standing in the room made his skin crawl. When he left, he slammed the crooked door.

Elias glowered from the bottom of the stairs. For a moment, Felix considered turning back, testing his luck with the drop from the window. It wasn’t too far. He would survive. Probably.

‘I forgot to mention,’ Elias started before Felix could escape, ‘some intimidating men dropped by yesterday. Wanted to speak to him.’

‘So I noticed. What did you tell them?’

Elias’s lip curled. ‘That a private room costs extra.’

‘I imagine they didn’t like that.’

‘Neither did the landlord when he shouted at me for spoiling potential business.’ He pulled the armhole of his baggy tunic to the side to show off an impressive purple splotch along his ribs. ‘Worth the bruise.’

So this was what Darius had done after losing the chase in the vineyard. He stalked Loren’s trail around town, bullied his friends and destroyed everything he treasured.

‘Before, when I said . . .’ Felix swallowed hard. The hum pierced now, a spike through his skull. ‘I meant it when I told you to leave.’

‘And go where?’

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