Page 115 of Vesuvius

‘Are you hurt?’ Loren peered through the door. Only the altar bowl inhabited the courtyard now, sending smoke signals never to be received. ‘Where are the others?’

‘Nobody has seen the Priest since this morning,’ Camilia said, fatigued. ‘Sera and Shani . . . I looked. I found – they’re gone, Loren. Everyone is gone. Even the cats fled last night, like they knew what would happen. I’ve worked my arse off alone, pulling people from collapsed buildings and putting out fires. Where have you been?’

Off playing victim. That’s what Loren would have said, if he were honest. A pebble struck his shoulder. He flinched.

‘You can’t stay here. You need to leave the city, go as far south as you can.’

‘There are dozens, hundreds more lives in the city, and you suggest I leave?’ Beneath the grime, her cheeks flared angry red. ‘Gods, you never change.’

‘You’ve done all you can. Something worse is coming.’

Camilia sneered. ‘Enough about your visions.’

‘I was right about this,’ Loren snapped.

They were locked in a fierce glaring match, Camilia steady but for the trembling of her mouth and the way she still clung to his hands. Loren allowed it. Slow understanding wriggled under his skin.

‘You can’t find Celsi,’ he guessed gently.

Instantly, she collapsed, hunching into grief. ‘I went by their house as soon as I could. His father was dead, Loren, crushed by a wall while clutching a bottle. Celsi wasn’t there. I don’t know where he is. He tried to tell me something, you know, the afternoon of the festival. Something about you, always about you, and his father dragged him away. To punish him. Just for speaking to me.’ She wiped under her eyes. ‘He’s the closest I have to a brother.’

Loren had spent years in silent competition with a child for Camilia’s regard, and only here at the end of the world did he realise how silly their rivalry had been. Sulphur filled Loren’s lungs. ‘Camilia, there’s nothing more you can do for Celsi. Please. You have to go.’

Her nostrils flared. For a long moment, Loren braced for a strike.

Then she dissolved into silent sobs.

Slowly, he coaxed her up and guided her from the temple steps. Back at the street corner, he gave her wrist a careful squeeze, then detached fully. Words formed on his tongue.

But Camilia didn’t need a goodbye. She looked incredulous. ‘You lecture me, but it’s fine if you stay?’

‘There’s something I need to do.’

‘For who? Julia Fortunata? Priest Umbrius? Haven’t you heard? He’s dead. Or . . .’ She sneered. ‘Don’t tell me you’re here for that shabby thief. I saw you two, you—’

‘His name is Felix,’ Loren snapped, then shook his head when she only stared, dumbstruck. He stepped back. ‘Goodbye, Camilia.’

‘Stop,’ she said before he could dash. The word sounded like it cost her. ‘You should know something. The soldier who chased your thief came back last night. Wanted to know where you lived, what you did.’

‘What did you tell him?’

Her lip curled. ‘To fuck off.’

A laugh bubbled in Loren’s throat. ‘Tell me you saw the directionhe went.’

‘Better. I followed. If some bastard’s sticking his nose in my friend’s business, I have the right to know who he is.’ White-hot rock hit her bare arm, and she winced before rattling directions.

For the first time in hours, hope sparked. ‘If you were a man, I’d kiss you.’

‘If you were a woman, I might kiss you back.’ Camilia stepped from the pavement, giving him one last squint. ‘See you around.’

They split, headed in opposite directions.

Loren’s pulse raced faster than his feet could. He had failed the city. Failed the temple. Fallen on his own blade trying to stop the disaster by drawing all the wrong conclusions. But he would find Felix or die trying, that much he knew. Until Loren could finally right his wrongs.

Felix’s ruin wouldn’t come from Loren’s choices.

That was the gods-honest truth.

---