Page 106 of Vesuvius

‘Anywhere.’

‘With you?’

Felix took his time descending the stairs. ‘You wouldn’t like where I’m heading.’

‘If it’s all the same, then, I’ll stay. Some of us have jobs. Another month and I’ll have saved enough to leave on my terms.’

‘Suit yourself.’ He tried not to shoulder-check Elias on his way to the door.

‘It isn’t too late, you know.’ Something in Elias’s tone made Felix hesitate. Glance back. Elias wasn’t facing him; he was still staring at the landing. He said nothing for so long that Felix wondered if he intended to speak at all. Then, ‘He taught me to read. And the little girl who follows him, what’s her name?’

‘Aurelia.’ It came out raspy.

‘What I’m trying to say is, if you let him go, you’ll never find another like him. So think about that, before you leave. It isn’t too late.’

Itistoo late, he didn’t say, thinking of Loren’s splintered expression in the alley, when Felix weaponised his ownwords at him. He thought of all he’d traded away in the hours before, agreeing to Servius’s calculated terms. He thought of the helmet, and the cataclysmic visions, and the churning in his gut that confirmed –It was far, far too late.

Felix said nothing. Instead, he ran away, like he always did.

Once he’d left the brothel, he didn’t bother keeping an eye out for Darius. He would catch Felix eventually. Still, Felix ran fruitlessly, dragging out the chase as long as possible. He almost pretended he was exploring a new city. Getting to know it from the inside out. Taking it in for the first and last time.

Especially so, in the case of Pompeii.

The Forum bustled with its late-morning crowd, those too stubborn – or oblivious – to have fled after the latest quake. Felix crossed to the centre and stood still. Townsfolk parted around him, all with their lives and businesses and priorities. Repairs were already in progress, workers toiling in the high heat. Across the way, a shingle, shaken loose, separated from the roof of Apollo’s temple and smashed on cobblestone. Commotion buried the sound of its shatter.

No one stopped to notice the ragged street boy watching. No one saw Felix at all.

A fight broke out at a shoemaker’s stall, voices shouting and fists flying. Somewhere, a child cried. Another shingle broke free. The noises compounded, pushing each nerve in Felix’s body. From the offices exited a gaggle of councilmen, bickering in their bright white togas. Taxes, games. One man insulted another, but these were proper gentlemen, and only the lower classes fought. The men laughed it off, then went their separate ways.

All these people had one thing in common. One thing Felix could never have – had never allowed himself to have. He swallowed thick.A lifetime spent avoiding glances, and now, at the close of his path, he ached to be known. Just once. Felix kept himself alive by running, sure. But what was a life if no one would remember him when he’d gone?

The living, the dead, and Felix somewhere between.

The Temple of Apollo stood like an accusation. Felix never should have touched the helmet. If he’d taken his coins and cherries and run, he’d be far from here by now. If he hadn’t crashed into Loren, uprooting his life, Felix wouldn’t be frozen in the Forum while the world went on, while the earth below his feet continued to boil, with the blistering knowledge that nothing he did would ever – could ever–make a difference.

His senses crashed, suddenly too much to handle. Breathing felt like swallowing sand. Felix left, nearly bowling over Darius, who had finally caught up, panting. He lunged, but Felix dodged neatly.

Down the street. Across a block. Up crooked steps.

He paused, hand against the sun-warmed door of the Temple of Isis.

‘This again?’ Darius snapped, palms braced on his knees. ‘A priest’s threats won’t shield you now. Stop running, or I’ll drag your boy back myself.’

Fear gripped Felix, but he composed his face hard as bronze, adopted a tone of pure affront. ‘You would deny me a final visit to my temple?’

‘My master knows what temple you belong to, and it isn’t Isis.’

‘I’m not escaping.’

‘Forgive me for not trusting your word. You’re a snake.’

‘I’m not half so scaly as yourmaster,’ Felix sneered. ‘What are you, a dog heeling to its owner? He must have something good on you to keep you so loyal.’

‘Bait me with words all you want. You aren’t half as clever as you think.’

‘I don’t think I’m clever at all,’ Felix said. ‘What’s half of nothing?’

Darius spat. ‘Go on. Pray. See which god helps.’

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