Page 77 of Vesuvius

‘Then you have your answer.’ Loren made the mistake of glancing back. ‘Do you . . .’

He hated the way his words faltered.

Out here, Felix wore no headscarf, and daylight transformed his copper curls into flaming laurels and lit his skin gold. He looked like a young Apollo in the prime of his life, fast and clever and fierce. Loren ached to bask in his sun, soak it up before it dipped behind cloud once more.

He only tore away when he stumbled over a rock. His arms flailed to reclaim balance, barely catching himself before he fell. These damned weak ankles would be the death of him.

‘Careful,’ Felix said with a snort. ‘If you twist an ankle, I’m not carrying you back.’

A flicked stone smacked Loren’s heel to drive the point home.

Loren sighed and stared at Vesuvius ahead, crisp against the pale sky, clouds ringing the peak. The day really was beautiful, despite the heat, the bare hint of a breeze rustling fields of wilting poppies and tall grass.

Shame they were due to spend the afternoon underground.

Ahead, a pair of crooked standing stones peeked through a cluster of pines, exactly as Nonna said to look out for. Loren veered off-road. Weeds crunched underfoot.

‘The Etruscans raised stones like these near important places,’ he said. ‘Places charged with energy. I bet we’re close. Is the helmet . . .’

‘Reacting?’ Felix arched a sceptical brow. ‘No.’

Loren fought for a smile. ‘Then we aren’t closeenough.’

Beyond the stones, the underbrush opened into a bowl-shaped grove, hewn from the hillside and concealed by overgrown trees. Mist clung stagnant to the branches, the grass. A stillness lingered here, one Loren wasn’t keen to disturb.

‘Through there?’ Felix nodded to the back of the grove, where a jagged gash in the hill begged exploration. ‘Give me the torch.’

Before they left, Nonna had pressed a leather satchel of essentials into Loren’s hands. Now he passed the tools to Felix, and a moment of fussing fingers later, the torch flared to life. Loren said a silent goodbye to the breeze.

Together, they ducked into darkness.

The tunnel stretched for ever. Loren held the torch aloft, illuminating a scant few feet in front and behind, but otherwise they might as well be walking into Tartarus itself. His anxiety spiked with every pop of the flame. People weren’t made for this, lurking in suffocating tunnels. Foul things made their homes underground, monsters and beasts. A place to hide wrongdoings from the watchful gods.

Fitting, maybe. Loren had been doing a lot of wrong lately.

‘The air’s clammy,’ Felix said, cracking the quiet. Loren startled, nearly dropping the torch. ‘Can you smell that?’

Loren inhaled, in part to settle his racing heart. ‘Doesn’t smell unusual to me. Musty, perhaps.’

‘Well, you’d be used to it. Pompeii stinks, like eggs left to rot. Not so bad in town, but on the road, it got worse. Down here it’s intolerable. And the walls hum, can’t you hear?’

Loren frowned. ‘Just how sensitive are you?’

‘Too. Hard to filter out the chatter.’ Felix sighed and briefly squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Whatever the cause is, let’s hope we don’t find it.’

Again, the uncomfortable silence.

These were the final hours before Felix would leave town. Loren knew he should savour them, but a mental wall had gone up betweenrational thoughtandacting normal, gods, Loren, can’t you act normal?The disconnect panged. He’d kissed Felix. Kissed him. And despite the distortion of the wine, Loren was certain . . .

Felix had kissed him back. But Loren didn’t have a great record for kissing boys and keeping them. Tomorrow, Felix would leave. Would he look back once he’d cleared the gate?

The torchlight cast shifting shadows on the rough rock ceiling to match the stir of his stomach. Loren released a shaky breath in the dark.

Unfortunately, Felix took it as an invitation to talk.

‘So,’ he started, a valiant attempt at sounding casual. ‘Lucius Lassius Lorenus. Interesting name.’

Loren dropped his gaze forward, glaring at the smothering dark. ‘It’s mine. What of it?’

---