Page 19 of Vesuvius

‘Mercury?’ Felix’s fingers tightened. He looked at what he held.

Loren followed his gaze. For something claiming to be Mercury’s, it was of unusual design. Most depictions of the god of money and merchants, travel and thieves, showed him wearing a wide-brimmed hat, the kind fieldworkers wore in vineyards. Apart from the crested wings framing the face, the similarities ended there. This was a soldier’s helm, with a steep nose plate and angled eyes to strike fear in battle. This was a helmet for Mercury at war.

Whatever power it housed was angry.

‘You took a helmet that no one else can touch, and the ground shook.’ Loren’s stomach churned. ‘Your blood hit the altar, and it shook again.’

‘Coincidence,’ Felix insisted, even as he swallowed.

‘I don’t believe in those.’

‘Start. It makes life easier.’ He planted the helmet on Loren’s bed. The dark hollows of its eyes stretched for eternity, delving to Tartarus. ‘Mercury means nothing to me. I don’t worship him. Neither do you. What does it matter?’

‘It matters because – because this is bad. Mercury is sacred to traders, especially in a merchant town like Pompeii. The Etruscans worshipped him, too, and before them, the Greeks named him Hermes. You disrespected a very old, very powerful god.’ Loren’s thoughts tripped over each other, faster than he could keep pace with. ‘The divine energy that helmet holds should not be in the hands of a human.’

‘It’s ahelmet,’ Felix said, as if repeating it a third time would make it true.

‘It’s a weapon for someone with the wrong intentions. We need a plan. The statesman you mentioned – who is he? Why does he want it?’

‘It would look pretty on his shelf. Why else do rich people own shiny things? He offered to bargain, to pay me to bring it to him, and . . .’ Felix shook his head. ‘He’d sooner kill me to keep me quiet. So I ran.’

Loren wondered what Felix wasn’t telling him. But extracting answers from Felix was like pulling a soured tooth from a snarling dog. Impossible to do without getting bitten. He set the statesman aside for now, returning to the bigger issue.

‘This isbad. Why you? Why now?’ Questions bubbled and spilled over, always Loren’s same inquiries, but Felix pressed his back to the door, his defences creeping higher. Loren examined him again, head to bloody hem. ‘Who are you?’

It seemed to throw Felix. His brow furrowed, but before Loren could make sense of his expression, he said, tone flippant, ‘I told you. Just Felix.’

If he meant it as a joke, it didn’t land. Loren stared, struck, until shock morphed into indignation. After years haunted by this boy, Felix finally stood before him, and Loren was still no closer to an answer. Hot tears pricked his eyes. He clenched his fists, knuckles blanching.

‘Are you capable of taking this seriously,’ Loren said around the lump in his throat, ‘or is everything a laughing matter? Mock me if you want, but I will not let you endanger my city with your greed. Put it back.’

Felix’s smirk dropped. ‘No. Not now. You saw the Forum, it was swarming. I won’t risk my skin to return a helmet.’

‘You’re the only one who can touch it, and it can’t stay with me.’

‘Then I’ll take it when I leave. Sell it. Bury it.’

‘Do you want to be caught?Youhave to stay with me.’

Felix snarled. ‘I’m not a dog.’

‘I would like you more if you were.’ Loren used the window ledge to hoist himself up. His knees still shook from his fit, but he managed to toss his laundry bag to Felix. Then he unlatched his trunk, shoving aside scraps and trinkets and other old temple offerings to form a helmet-sized hiding spot. Felix didn’t utter a word as he cinched the bag tight and nestled the helmet inside. Loren could only pray Mercury wouldn’t take offence at being housed next to old linens.

‘Stay till week’s end,’ Loren said, latching the lid, a temporary tomb. ‘Four days. The city has twice as many eyes on it than usual. We need hope of catching the thief to wane and the festival to end. If I haven’t figured out what the helmet means for you – and the city – by then, you can return it and go. In the meantime, I’ll keep you out of the statesman’s hands – and anyone else who wants a piece of you. I’m offering safety. Will you take it?’

‘You? Protect me?’ Felix said in disbelief.

‘Unless you want to risk it on your own in a city that would do far worse than whip you,’ said Loren hotly. ‘You say you don’t care what the helmet means? Fine. But I know you came here for a reason. I know we were supposed to meet. I intend to find out why.’

‘You’re mad.’

‘Swear it. Four days.’

Felix’s mouth curled with brewing argument, but something akin to a shadow flitted across his face, and his jaw tightened. Stiff-necked, he gave a sharp, unwilling nod. ‘Is that all?’

The sneer in his voice crept under Loren’s skin and burrowed deep. Was that all?

Black wave. Copper streak.Details spiralling clearer.

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