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‘Please… don’t…’
She could see only the faintest hint of the blade, reflecting what little light poured in through the darkened oculus.
‘Gia!’ she tried again.
But the building was muffled, shrouded, cut off from the city outside somehow.
Their bodies collided as she wrenched away from her attacker. Claudia ended up sprawled on the ground, on her back, her body tensing in anticipation of pain – far too quickly for her to come to terms with the lot of her life or have time to regret anything.
Gia, Gia, Gia, she prayed, as if Gia was a goddess.
The dagger’s blade grazed the skin of her cheek, forcing her to roll to one side to avoid it.
Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness. She briefly glimpsed the insignia carved on the knife’s handle: a bolt of Jupiter, illuminated by the crack of light shining through the oculus. That meant he was a servant of the god.
The man climbed on top of her. She glimpsed him raising his arm again to strike, but after a second, he fell back. The grinding of stone alerted Claudia to something moving behind her. She could barely make out what was happening, but Claudia was sure she saw Minerva’s statue standing up from her throne and assuming a battle stance. Her serene expression had contorted into a warrior cry, her brows sloping in determination as she raised her spear.
Claudia looked to the statue of Diana, who too was on her feet, pulling back her arrow in a bow, readied to fire.
Her attacker, his face now partially visible, staggered backwards in fear, shrinking away from the animated statues, just as a door wrenched open with a drawn-out creak.
A flash of fire followed. Claudia heard a noise, a voice, a wordless cry of fury and fear as two bodies came together in a terrific clashing of steel and flesh that seemed to last for an eternity.
It was Gia, fighting the assassin. Claudia heard a grunt and a splattering sound, followed by a thud.
She held her breath, unsure who had won.
Sunlight poured in. The dark clouds over the oculus shifted, and it was day again. Suddenly Gia was there with a torch, crouching down to check on her, her eyes wide in concern.
‘Are you…’
‘I’m okay,’ said Claudia.
She was unharmed, and Gia was unharmed. Nothing else mattered. The fire illuminated the dead man on the ground, gasping his last breath as a bubble of blood formed between his lips.
‘In the name… of Jupiter,’ he rasped.
One final blink and his eyes froze open.
It was one of the praetorian guards, and he had a bag of coins in his pocket, now spilling out onto the bloodied floor.
‘Shame I didn’t have time to interrogate him,’ said Gia.
‘I am not sorry about it.’
Gia scrambled up, checking the perimeter as Claudia remained on the floor, clutching her knees. She rocked back and forth, staring into thin air, trying to steady her breathing, her chest heaving.
Her eyes landed on the sacred fire. Gasping with horror, Claudia recalled that the eternal flame had been extinguished in the chaos. She staggered over to it, winded. It was cooling, slumbering, dormant – like Vesuvius before the eruption – but there were still a few embers burning ablaze in the pit of ashes, fuelled by the ring she’d sacrificed.
All hope wasn’t yet lost.
Murmuring encouragement to herself, Claudia breathed on it.
‘In the name of Vesta, I command you to burn,’ she said. ‘If this flame dies, then so will I.’
By her word, the flame caught and expanded, blooming into a reassuring flower of fire. She looked up to see the statue of Vesta, the goddess of the hearth and the home, staring right at her.
Claudia was sure she saw the statue of Venus smile, but she was also dizzy and delirious, restless energy racing through her blood.
