Page 75 of Vesuvius

Except Loren was already doomed, though not by any silver helmet. By a smart mouth and stormy eyes and his ring still on Felix’s finger.

‘I don’t know how much I believe,’ Felix admitted. ‘About what you say the helmet can do. But if I’m not allowed to understand anything else about my life, I’m willing to try to believe. I need you to show me how.’

Loren had been selfish. He couldn’t deny Felix this. All Loren’s work figuring out what the helmet foretold so far had been done alone – all amounting to nothing. Maybe a different approach was needed.

One that required Felix’s cooperation.

Downstairs, Elias was awake and stretching in the corridor between cubicles, his back a perfect arch. When he spotted them, he dropped with a wicked smile.

‘Sleep late? It’s near noon,’ he said. ‘Glad you made it home, Loren. You had Felix all out of sorts.’

It shouldn’t have stung, but it did, the idea that Felix had confessed anything to Elias.

‘Yes, and now we’re leaving,’ Loren replied, clipped. He ushered Felix hastily towards the exit, Felix seeming all too happy to comply, tying on a scarf and escaping to the street.

‘Wait,’ Elias called before Loren could follow. ‘Stay a moment. These days, it seems like you’re always leaving. We never talk anymore.’

Loren closed his eyes. Turned, smile tight. ‘I see you daily.’

Elias didn’t return the smile.

‘Three years. That’s how long I’ve known you.’ Elias rose slowly. At his full height, he barely met Loren’s chin. He scrutinised Loren, stepping right into his space. Such proximity used to swoop Loren’s stomach, but now he only felt tired. ‘So why is it that I understand Felix better in three days?’

Loren could think of a lot of reasons, like how Elias and Felix had more in common with each other than with a rich winemaker’s son, or that Loren had tried to get closer to him and was swiftly shut down, but he had the sense neither would prove sufficient.

He sighed. ‘What do you want?’

‘I thought he was the one I should worry about,’ Elias continued, ‘but I wonder if I should reconsider. Between the two of you, you’re the one with ambition. You’re the one I can picture wearing wings.’

The accusation cracked like a hit to the jaw, and Loren would have preferred a physical blow. Any surprise he should have felt thatElias knew about the helmet was an afterthought. Dropping his voice, he hissed, ‘You think I’d use it? For myself?’

‘Use it? Or use him?’

‘I’mtryingto help the city.’

‘And I’m trying to warn you,’ Elias said. He caught Loren’s wrist and jerked him in. For a deluded second, Loren thought Elias was going for a kiss, they were that close. ‘I’m telling you to be careful. For his sake, too.’

‘What do you want?’ Loren repeated, except it spilled out as a plea.

Abruptly, he missed Elias with a scorching ache. They stood sharing breath, but Loren had never felt the distance so keenly – though it had been him who drove the wedge home. After admitting his feelings and facing rejection, Loren thought creating space was a favour, a sacrifice on his part, but he never thought to ask Elias whathewanted. Loren couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out to make amends.

When this was all over, he would fix what was broken.

‘I told you a long time ago,’ Elias said at last. He let go and took a measured step back. ‘I want nothing from you.’

If Felix overheard anything, he had the tact not to mention it when Loren stumbled outside. Neither spoke as they set off. The laundry bag swung from Felix’s shoulder, helmet nestled inside. They almost passed as normal friends doing normal chores on a normal day, except Felix was drawn tight as a lyre string, and Loren had never felt so messy in his life. Discomfort swelled between them, worse than the intense morning heat.

‘We should start with Nonna,’ Loren managed to say. ‘Pompeii has no library, but she’s Etruscan to her core, the first settlers of the city from before Rome’s sack on Corinth. If anyone knows the helmet’s history, she will.’

‘I believe you that she won’t turn us in. That doesn’t mean I trust her.’

‘Trust me, then.’ Loren sidestepped to let a basket-bearing man squeeze past, and Felix tensed when it brought them too near. ‘Lasttime you didn’t like what she had to say, and I kept pushing the issue. I won’t do that again. If you say stop, we leave.’

‘I am not fragile,’ Felix insisted, then averted his gaze further, a feat Loren hadn’t thought possible.

There he went, putting his foot in his mouth again.

Half the city was still sleeping off its hangover, but Nonna sat outside the bakery, moulding dough into rounds. When she saw them, her eyes lit up.

---