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THE BASES OF TWO GIANT staircases converged in front of us as we pulled up to the foot of the Capitoline Hill, their wide steps reaching upwards in different directions. One—the one we’d taken down from the collective’s office—led up to the Piazza with a long, gentle slope. The other rose more sharply towards the front of a church dated from the Middle Ages, its nondescript brown façade towering over us. Looking at all of these buildings from down here evoked the sense of being small, while everything important was up there. Maybe that was the point.
Hopping out of the pick-up, I glimpsed something bright red to the side of the staircases—a vespa. A familiar vespa, one I didn’t expect to see here. Hayley didn’t usually come to the collective’s office, for several reasons. One, she was the kind of scientist who needed to work in a wet lab the majority of the time, which the collective didn’t have. Two, she hated leaving the safety zone. Three, technology let her connect to anyone here just as well as physically dropping by.
So why would she drive over here instead of calling us? Was something wrong?
...well, besides our recent escape from death by basilisk, which didn’t count. She already knew we’d made it out of that just fine.
Behind the vespa, the door to a little green booth opened, revealing a tall, brown-skinned woman in a faded red shirt—Hayley. Booths just like this one lay scattered around the city, dating from before the Boom, though I had no idea what they might’ve been used for. And I definitely didn’t know how Hayley had managed to open this one.
“You guys are finally here!” she called out to us.
Her smile looked genuine, her exuberant tone of voice free of any hidden tension. Whatever she’d come here for, it wasn’t an emergency. Some alert part of my brain that’d switched on when I noticed her bike turned itself back off.
“What were you doing in there?” Carter asked, tone curious.
The look she gave him was filled with mock sternness. “I’m surprised by you, Carter. Look at me, out here all alone. Beyond the safety zone. Of course I had to hole up somewhere secure until my friends came for me.”
“The collective is literally right there,” I pointed towards the top of the building, visible beyond the stairs.
“You expect me to brave those steps by myself? How do I know a legimal won’t jump out at me?”
I shook my head at her antics, starting the trek up the Capitoline Hill. “If you were worried about that, you should’ve borrowed a car instead of driving over on your vespa. What are you doing here, anyway?”
She fell in beside me, expression turning serious. “I tried to call Pompo while you guys drove back. He should’ve been back by then, waiting to know how your trip went—you know how badly he wants every project to work—but he hasn’t been picking up. And hey, maybe I’m paranoid. Simonetta certainly thought it was way too soon to start freaking out about it. But the last time I hadn’t been able to get through to someone...”
My field team and I were under attack by a chimera, after someone had trapped us with the panicking legimal and cut off our communications. When she put it like that, I understood her concern.
Still, there were plenty of reasonable explanations. He could have been held up—he’d scheduled several meetings today with legends from other Houses, all of whom he needed to maintain diplomatic ties with. Or he could’ve just lost his charger, which I wouldn’t put past him. Since he preferred parking at the other end of the hill, we’d have to wait until we got inside to find out if he was even back yet.
We’d made it a quarter of the way up the stairs when the rumble of a vehicle sounded from down the road. I turned back the way we’d come, wondering if Pompo had conveniently arrived at this exact moment. A small black car appeared against the backdrop of an ancient Roman theater. I knew the vehicles that my associates tended to drive, but I didn’t recognize this one. Not as Pompo’s, not as anyone’s.
The mystery car pulled up a few feet away from our pick-up. The door opened. And Pradip stepped out.
His neat, dark hair brushed against his forehead with the breeze. The nice, gray suit he wore, all of its rips carefully patched together to make it appropriate for meeting government officials and diplomats, felt out of place outside the safety zone. Everything about him right then screamed desk job. The shock of seeing him out here, dressed like that—well, it still didn’t quite match up to seeing Hayley, but it was close.
Had everyone decided to descend on our office en masse today? And why on earth was Simonetta Berti’s assistant, of all people, at the Capitoline Hill?
Dr. Berti was tangentially involved in the collective, given that I’d drafted most of our scientists from her lab with her permission, but she wasn’t part of the collective itself. We’d talked about this—her name elicited mixed feelings from several local legend communities. Hell, she even elicited mixed feelings from me. So she served as an advisor for our research when needed, but we came to her, not the other way around. Sending her assistant to the collective’s office instead of having him call us? That wasn’t what we’d agreed on.
Hayley put on a devious smile. “Pradip!” she called to him in an overly cheerful voice. “Hey look, it’s my favorite pencil-pusher!”
“Fuck off, Chadha,” he said.
He had to see Vegoia and Matten standing right behind me. Had to know the both of them could hear him cursing at Hayley. And yet he’d still done it, in front of two legends, when he’d never been less than respectful to the Houses we maintained diplomatic ties with. What was going on?
“Starting today,” he continued, “I officially never have to deal with your bullshit again. Since you lot are conveniently here, you can pass the message on to Pompo for me: I quit. I’m free.”
He pulled the suit off, leaving himself in his dress shirt, and tossed it into the road. Lifting a leg so he could yank off one shoe, he threw it towards the nearest bush. Then he hopped on one foot for balance as he got rid of his last shoe. This one he lobbed at our pick-up. Too forcefully, because it sailed over the top.
Dusting off his hands with a look of satisfaction on his face, he got back into the car and slammed the door shut. The ignition turned on. Twisting and turning the car to maneuver it as close to our staircase as possible, he came to a stop before us. The window rolled down.
“Bye, fuckers!” Pradip shouted as he revved the engine and drove off.
We stood there in silence, processing what had just happened. Pradip hadn’t been happy with his job for a long time, but he’d kept at it beyond the point of obstinance anyway. I’d kinda figured we were stuck with him.
Vegoia watched the spot he’d driven off from with puzzlement. “He’d seemed so polite every time I’d talked to him,” she said.
“Clearly, his heart and his duty weren’t in the same place,” came Matten’s sympathetic response.
Just the sound of his voice coming from so close by had me stiffening up. And what he’d said...it was like he was comforting Vegoia. No one here except me and Luca knew what he’d done, but here he was, taking advantage of that to establish personal relationships with our allies? What was I supposed to do if the rest of our legend partners ended up liking him? Would I have to bite my tongue forever?
I needed to find a way to send him back to his House and away from my team, for my own peace of mind.
“What just happened?” Carter asked. “Pradip’s gone? Did anyone know he was gonna do this?”
Hayley gave him a shrug. “Someone must have. But I didn’t.”
“I’ve advised him to quit so many times,” I made myself say, pushing Matten to the back of my mind—because his presence didn’t get to take over everything else in my life. These were my friends, discussing how they felt about the departure of my coworker. I should get the time to process this with them. “I didn’t think he’d actually do it.”
Hayley shot me an impressed glance. “You actually told Pradip to quit? Wait, you know what that means? You fired Pradip.”
I blinked at her. “I didn’t fire Pradip.”
“You told him to leave, he’s gone. That’s called firing someone.”
...right. Should’ve followed my first instincts and stayed out of it. “You know what, let’s just go see Pompo.”
I took the next step up and everyone else followed along, chatting with each other. Fatigue began pulling at me before I’d made it all the way up. Today had been a lot. A lot of work, a lot of information, a lot of excitement. I was ready to shower, report to Pompo, and go home.
Three white-yellow buildings appeared around us as we reached the top of the piazza. I headed for the one on the right, which had once been a museum. Now, it housed a small set-up of showers at the request of the House of Numa. Their long-term plans even included the construction of a whole bathhouse nearby, but assuming that ever actually happened, I’d probably still stick with the showers.
Meanwhile, Hayley broke away from the rest of us to head to the center building, off to find Pompo. My mind turned over what she’d said as I went through the motions of cleaning up. Pompo always cleared his schedule towards the end of a new expedition, eager to learn about what happened whether he understood it or not. What would get him to use this time for anything else? Even if a critically important ally called to speak with him, he’d just reschedule—unless said ally insisted the matter was urgent.
My imagination started conjuring up the kind of emergencies that might keep Pompo occupied. A diplomatic breakdown between two Houses that could destabilize our whole region. A powerful legend unleashing their magic in a way that would have consequences, not unlike the near-disaster when Matten’s daughter had accidently desiccated our crops. And suddenly, I didn’t feel so tired anymore—I just wanted to know what the latest catastrophe in my life might be.
Finishing up quickly and throwing on some clean clothes, I headed for the exit without running into anyone from my team. Wondering the whole time if maybe there was some reasonable explanation after all, if maybe I wasn’t overreacting. My hands reached out for the door, pushing it open—and suddenly, faint voices filled the air, the words strained but indistinguishable.
But I knew one of those voices was Hayley’s. And I knew instinctively that something was wrong.
#
WHATEVER HAD HAYLEY distressed, I couldn’t see it. Or her. But I could hear her, which meant she could hear me.
“Hayley!” I called.
The voices paused for a moment.
Then, louder than before, “Jordan? You have to get up here, please!”
That was Hayley like I’d never heard her before. The vulnerability, the lack of control in her voice...she never gave anyone so much as a peek at her raw emotions. What the hell had happened?
“We’re on the roof,” came another voice, deeper and steadier than Hayley’s. That was Thefarie, one of the collective’s legends. “Pompo’s outdoor office.”
My heart pounded as I ran for that office. From the stairway, I began hearing a static-filled voice, as if someone had been placed on speakerphone. That someone came off as deliberately composed—calm not because the situation warranted it, but because everyone else needed to hear it.
“...be there soon,” the voice was saying as I raced up the stairs.
“But he’s already dead, he’s dead, he’s dead,” repeated Hayley’s softer voice, over and over again.
Bursting through the door into Pompo’s outdoor office, I found Hayley standing near the edge of the roof with hunched shoulders and her arms wrapped around herself. Thefarie of the House of Tanaquil knelt on the floor, his form rigid, his eyes hidden as his auburn hair fell forward to cover them—performing chest compressions on Pompo’s unresponsive body.
“He’s not breathing,” Thefarie said, eyes flickering my way. “His heart isn’t beating, either. I’m such a fool—I’d come here to see him and sat waiting in his indoor office, until the moment I heard Hayley calling for help.”
I couldn’t process what was happening. I’d just spoken with Pompo this morning. He’d been alright when I’d left him alone for the working day—then he suddenly wasn’t alright anymore.
What had happened? How could anything have happened? We were the ones taking the risks. Even when Pompo went to visit our research sites, he always came accompanied by people who’d keep him safe, after the rest of us had already been there dozens of times.
My body moved on autopilot to join Thefarie. Between the basic first aid training required for working outside the safety zone and the voice on the phone literally telling us what to do, I could try to help somehow. Assuming it wasn’t already too late. I felt my arms moving, heard my own voice responding to the voice’s questions. But I had no conscious awareness of what I was doing, like my mind had dissociated from the reality before me.
It felt like no time at all had passed before the emergency response team arrived. On their heels came Cristian—the sniper who’d protected us on Berti’s request back when Matten had tried to kill us. A distant part of my mind wondered how he’d gotten involved, but the rest of me focused on the fact that Pompo hadn’t regained consciousness, hadn’t moved. He looked so pale. And Hayley seemed convinced it was already over.
Then it turned out she was right. Pompo was pronounced dead.
Cristian’s expression was grave as he turned to us. “My condolences. But my team will find out what happened.”
Should I wonder if that was unusual? He was military as far as I knew—or maybe ex-military?—not a detective. But then, I knew so little about the guy. As he ushered us away from the rooftop while making urgent phone calls, I realized there had to be more to him.
The rest of our poor team, slower to get out of the museum and notice the chaos that’d erupted since our arrival, met us on the way down. Confusion written across their faces, visible in Vegoia’s wide eyes and Tony’s skittish steps. Cristian steered all of us through a side exit in the building, leaving us by a road that curved down the hill.
Right next to Pompo’s banged-up green car, parked next to the building as if he might come down for it at any moment. He’d learned to drive only recently, displaying way more enthusiasm than skill. But from the moment he first sat behind the wheel, he’d refused to let anyone else take him anywhere. Tears pricked at my eyes just looking at it.
I turned to the side, where a railing overlooked the Roman Forum. The space was filled with ancient columns and foundations long missing the rest of the buildings they’d once belonged to. My hand clasped that railing in search of some kind of support, the view of the Forum blurring before my eyes. It didn’t feel real. But muttered voices drifted down towards us from the top of the building, reminding me that Pompo’s body lay on the roof just above us.
I took a few seconds to get a hold of myself before I turned back to my team, deciding I couldn’t shut them out in a time that was stressful for all of us. Hayley’s form trembled against the wall of our headquarters, next to the doorway Cristian had ushered us through. Thefarie frowned tightly from a few steps away. Luca’s eyes passed over all of us, his gaze assessing.
Until finally it met mine. “What happened?” he asked.
“That’s what I want to know,” came a frustrated voice from the side of our gathering, feminine and familiar.
I jerked my head in the direction of Pompo’s car, where Julia of House Aeneas stood watching us, wearing a flowing blue dress that fused ancient and modern styles. Her dark hair fell in loose curls against her light brown skin—which told me she hadn’t styled it for a more official occasion, like she usually did when coming to the collective. She hadn’t intended to be here. So why was she?
I couldn’t help glancing at Luca for just one second. Half the people here didn’t even know he was legend, let alone Julia’s brother. Still, it wasn’t impossible that someone might catch on if they weren’t careful. And I didn’t exactly associate either of them with subtlety.
“Julia?” I addressed her, before Luca could.
Her eyes shifted between me and Luca as she took a few steps closer, joining the group. “Pompo never arrived at our meeting today. So I came here to find him—and instead saw all these flashing vehicles and people in uniforms.”
“He’s dead,” I managed to say.
Hayley let loose a quiet whimper. I shifted closer to her, surreptitiously placing my hand in hers. I didn’t like physical contact, but she did—and she proved it with the way her grip tightened around my hand.
“Pompo?” Julia looked perturbed.
“I don’t understand how this could happen to him,” Thefarie said. “We found him in his own office. Out of everyone, he should have been safe.”
One second, the doorway behind us stood empty. The next, Cristian reappeared from it, striding outside. “I can answer that,” he told us, voice harsh. “Someone murdered him.”
The word ‘murdered’ sunk down into the deepest part of my mind, the shock of it snapping reality into focus. Every close call I’d ever had flashed through my mind. The House of Hercules had tried to assassinate members of my team at least three times. Matten came so close to killing me and Luca that I still sometimes woke up in a cold sweat, convinced the water was closing in around me. But no one had actually died those times.
None of us died those times, a guilty part of my conscience corrected, as I remembered a teenage boy stumbling over the body of his father. A body dead from the bullet I’d fired.
But what happened to Pompo had nothing to do with that, so I pushed it away from me. Because Pompo deserved my full attention now. Of course, what he really deserved? That was to still freaking be alive right now.
So why wasn’t he? Wasn’t the point of this collective to stop the kind of close calls we’d had in the past? Weren’t we supposed to move past those old fears? But here we were again.
“What can you tell us?” I asked Cristian, because there was no time for shock or grief. Not if it wasn’t over yet.
“The medical examiners say he drowned, probably within the past few hours.”
...on a rooftop? Surrounded by open air? Without a trace of water nearby?
The dubious faces around me proved I wasn’t the only one baffled by those logistics. But Cristian? His expression didn’t betray a trace of bewilderment or doubt. No, his gaze locked onto Matten—and I suddenly remembered that he was one of the only people who knew. He’d heard the whole thing when Matten finally gave himself away, agreed to keep it secret alongside Luca and myself. Suddenly, Luca and I weren’t so alone in distrusting Matten without being able to explain why. And from the light of realization behind Matten’s eyes, he knew exactly where Cristian was going with this.
A hint of eagerness uncurled inside of me, ready to see Matten held accountable for something...except this time, I knew it wasn’t him. Because I was his damn alibi for the day. Wasn’t that just fucking ironic?
With a reluctant sigh, I cut off that false trail before Cristian wasted too much time chasing it. “We were out all day together on an expedition. My field team, Vegoia, and Matten. All of us climbed up to the hill with Hayley just before she found...well.”
Cristian frowned. According to the timeline he’d just given, those of us in the field today couldn’t have done it. “No one wandered off? You’re sure of that?”
“Yes,” Luca said, meeting Cristian’s eyes with absolute certainty—conveying what only the three of us would understand. That we already knew to keep an eye on the homicidal legend.
“Alright then,” Cristian conceded.
Which still left us with the puzzle of what actually happened.
Then Thefarie stepped forward, posture tense. “You can’t seriously be thinking of investigating us?” he asked, with a trace of outrage.
The sniper’s gaze drifted over to him. “What’s there to worry about? You aren’t under our authority. But we do want to know who did this.”
Thefarie narrowed his eyes at Cristian. “I need to inform my House about this.”
“As do I,” Julia added.
“You all have people you wish to contact, I’m certain,” Cristian said. “But as a courtesy, please do give us as much information about today as you can.”
Julia turned away from him without even acknowledging his words. Thefarie gave him a foreboding look, before wandering down the road and pulling out his phone. With a shake of his head, Cristian took a step back towards the door—and suddenly I couldn’t stop myself from asking the most insignificant question I had, because at least I might get an actual answer to this.
“How did you end up working this?” I asked him.
He stopped mid-stride, glancing over those of us left standing here. “This incident could be considered delicate. I was asked to step in.”
But he’d arrived with the first responders on the scene. Had he been contacted right after the call went through to emergency services? Whoever he answered to had some impressive lines of information.
Luca turned a speculative gaze his way. “Asked by whom?”
“Government officials. No one you’ve met. Lots of bureaucrats to go around, you know how it is. Now I’m sorry—I truly am—but I need to get back to the investigation. Promise to let you guys in on what I find, alright?”
Cristian disappeared back inside the building, taking any chance I had of getting more answers with him. I somehow felt bereft without them. Or maybe I was tricking myself into thinking that knowing more would make me feel better. Maybe nothing I did would fill this empty feeling inside of me.
But then...what was I supposed to do?