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Chapter XVII

FELIX

F elix’s plan revolved around a missing shoe. That should have been the first indicator that he was destined to fail. The second came from the knowing look Livia delivered him when he showed up at her door just after sundown.

She was sweeping the walk, still dressed in day clothes. Aurelia crouched on the stoop, rolling marbles between cobblestones, but the moment she saw Felix, she blanched like she’d seen a ghost and scampered inside. Livia glanced up at the slam of the door.

‘Oh, hello.’ Her face lit up, as if seeing Felix was the best thing that had happened all day. ‘Have you eaten?’

‘I—’

‘Of course not, you boys don’t look after yourselves.’ From her apron, she withdrew a half slab of flatbread. ‘Have this. Why are you holding a shoe?’

Surely Felix still had time to flee. ‘It’s why I’m here. Have you seen, uh . . .’

There. That look that said Livia knew exactly who Felix was and what he wanted.

Her smile turned sad. ‘No, love, but Aurelia told me what happened. I imagine he’s feeling quite low right now. ’

Felix shifted his weight, palms sweaty where he gripped the sandal and the bread.

It was fresh, baked by Nonna. How he’d become so acquainted with these people in only a few days, he couldn’t say.

Maybe when he left, his piss-poor memory would work in his favour for once. Maybe soon he’d forget them all.

‘You know,’ Livia said, ‘it’s a good thing Loren has you.’

Oh, this was bad.

In truth, tonight was Felix’s worst escape attempt yet. After Loren had stepped on the block to speak, Felix fled, not able to stand the brewing fallout he sensed, the shift in the air pressing on his nerves. Attention, conflict – too risky to stick around for.

He hadn’t made it three paces from the Forum before he turned back.

Each step from Loren’s side felt like wading too far from shore.

He couldn’t leave, and this time it wasn’t the fault of city guards or Darius or the helmet.

Felix wanted to stay. He wanted Loren safe, not torn apart by a pack of political dogs. Wanted Loren with both his shoes on.

That scared him more than magic or memory ever could.

Felix took a steadying breath. ‘I’m only returning his sandal.’

Livia still gave him the look . ‘It isn’t about the shoe.’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘You should find him.’

‘I’m trying.

‘He could use a friend.’

‘Right,’ said Felix.

She hummed. ‘I was only a girl when my parents kicked me out,’ Livia said, the change in topic so abrupt, Felix felt dizzy.

‘I thought to myself, that was it for me. No more trusting. Care is hard to accept when all you’ve known is hurt.

Until I moved here, and Nonna took me under her wing.

She helped me open my shop. And I met someone else who proved me wrong.

He’s gone, but you know what I learned? ’

‘I don’t think I want to,’ Felix said, defences creeping higher.

He must have looked like a proper fool, standing on her step like that. Livia set her broom aside and pulled him into a crushing hug, squashing the bread. This type of touch set off alarm bells but, for once, he forced them silent.

‘I learned,’ said Livia, rubbing Felix’s back, ‘that love doesn’t mean losing yourself. You don’t have to sacrifice anything by letting someone in.’

‘It isn’t that easy.’ The admission burned. ‘Not for me.’

‘Your walls exist for a reason, I imagine. Start by finding someone willing to make the climb.’ Livia released him but kept a hand at his flaming cheek. ‘I meant what I said. I’m glad Loren found you. He’s a good boy, but he needs a tether.’

Only a mother could get away with saying these words. A little thrill shot through Felix that Livia had murmured them to him, as if he and Loren were more than two boys thrown together by bad luck.

‘Run along, love. You’ll find him.’ Livia ruffled his hair and swatted him away. She returned to her sweeping, and Felix returned to his search, and that was that.

Felix ate the bread as he walked. Drunk and cheery folks lingered on every corner, dancing, sharing wine, kissing.

A buzz spread through Pompeii, twilight air punctuated with chatter.

They were happy, and their obliviousness disturbed him.

Change hung heavy in the atmosphere, bubbled in the city’s core, a grim haze hovering low, and Felix might not believe in omens, but he trusted his gut.

All his instincts screamed run . While he still could.

The brothel loomed ahead, orange lights beckoning. Felix’s skin tingled as he stepped through the door. Musky air greeted him, cut through with the sharp scent of—

‘Fox!’ Elias perked up from where he reclined on the stairs, a fat blunt of herbs pinched between two fingers. ‘Interesting, I was wondering when you’d return to our humble home. ’

‘That smells horrible,’ Felix said. ‘What is it, roadside dandelions?’

Elias tilted back and laughed, eyes rimmed red. ‘A new strain of hemp, sweet thing, for refined tastes. Breathe it in for a moment, and tell me it isn’t intoxicating.’

Felix crinkled his nose but stepped closer, despite his better judgement. ‘Where’s everyone else?’

‘The women? Out with the others. Celebrating. Like any good Roman.’ He squinted at Felix through the low-lit smoky filter. ‘Y’know, I’m surprised to see you here alone. Festival not enticing enough?’

‘I was hoping’ – Felix winced – ‘that you’d seen Loren.’

‘Who? You’ll have to describe him, Fox. You see, I’ve passed the point of remembering, well . . . anything.’

He was taking the piss. ‘I’ll check myself.’

Elias sprawled on the stairs, blocking Felix’s path. ‘He isn’t there. I would’ve seen him come home.’

‘How long have you been sitting here?’

‘Hours and hours. Sit with me, why don’t you? Maybe we can solve this puzzle together, work through all the places he might be. Promise I’ll make it worth your while.’

Felix hesitated, but Elias shot him a wild little grin and slid to make room. Gingerly, Felix sat, but kept his feet planted on the ground, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. Elias offered the blunt, shrugging when Felix shook his head.

‘Tell me where you’ve looked already.’

‘Well.’ He picked at the worn leather edge of Loren’s sandal. ‘The docks. The tavern. The weaver’s shop. Here.’

‘If your method is to search all the places Loren wouldn’t be first, you have an awfully long night ahead of you. Can I pose something?’

‘No.’

‘Part of you is afraid to find him,’ Elias said anyway. When Felix bit his tongue, Elias barked a laugh. ‘I’m right, aren’t I? ’

The tops of Felix’s ears burned. He hoped against hope Elias was too blissed to notice. ‘Shouldn’t you be out seducing someone?’

‘It’s my night off. Well, from that part of my job. Now you’ve stumbled onto the other half of my profession: doling out relationship advice and soothing broken hearts.’

Groaning, Felix dropped the sandal to bury his face in his hands. ‘I’m trying to return his shoe. That’s it. After, I’m leaving. For good.’

Elias blinked, thoroughly unimpressed. ‘You’re pathetic. And oblivious.’

‘Piss off.’

‘You want my advice,’ he drawled, and Felix was certain he didn’t, but he continued, ‘stop looking where you know he isn’t, and go where you know he is.’

‘If I knew that, I wouldn’t be here,’ Felix said.

Elias smirked and leaned heavily against the step.

In the flickering sconce light, he was smudgy and lean, like a hastily drawn figure study, ink bleeding around the edges.

Imperfectly crafted in a careful way. Lazily beautiful.

In another town – and pliant with enough drink to dull the discomfort of touch – Felix would have pulled him into a dark corner by now. Impermanent intimacy, a distraction.

A hand on Felix’s shoulder pushed him back from where he’d been leaning forward.

‘It would be a yes to you,’ Elias said, ‘if I thought I was what you wanted.’

‘Why wouldn’t you be?’

‘Because I’m easy, and you aren’t meant for that.

Because soon, I’ll pay my way out of here, and I won’t leave anything behind when I do.

’ Smile widening, Elias took a long drag from his blunt.

Smoke cascaded between their faces. Maybe he was right.

The herb was a slow burn, hard to stomach at first, but it grew on the senses, given time.

‘Perhaps in another life. Go and find your boy.’

Felix took Loren’s sandal and left.

The brothel wasn’t far from the Temple of Isis, and it came as both a relief and a disappointment to find the temple door unlocked. But it was always unlocked. That was the way of Isis: she welcomed the downtrodden, the miserable, the dispossessed. Felix fitted all three categories.

Orange streaked past his feet. He froze, but it was only one of the cats, Pollux, the most useless sentry.

At the altar, incense crackled, but unlike Elias’s smoke, these fumes were sweet and mellow and didn’t blur Felix’s mind.

Otherwise, the courtyard didn’t stir. For a moment, he thought he had it wrong again.

Then he caught a sliver of light spilling from the cella door.

He followed it up the short stairs and paused.

This place made Felix shrink so very small, a boy who’d never outgrown the feeling of not belonging. The cella was sacred, reserved for the devout. Nothing about it should feel familiar, except . . . flashes. A memory tugged again. Another temple, another cella, another time.

There was a temple – the Aventine Hill –

Lantern light. Solitude.

Wine laced bittersweet.

Felix rubbed the prickle from his arms. He didn’t have time to chase stray thoughts.

He braced himself and pushed inside. Isis’s dark eyes tracked him, but she didn’t seem angry.

A gilded sunray fanned from her hair. The cult performed their mysteries in this chamber, the secret rites of Isis’s followers who swore their lives in return for nothing, at worst. Comfort, at best.

Temples had only ever left Felix hollow.

A too-familiar figure slumped at the statue’s feet.