corner. Moonlight that had shimmered on Priscus’s garden sliced a white gleam on Gallus’s high forehead. His eyes were wide, full of fear.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
He was another person connected to Floriana’s. I’d first found him walking through her house to study its walls, deciding whether it could be saved. I’d reflected that it was unusual for a lofty architectus to do an assistant’s job.
Perhaps he’d been there for another reason—to destroy anything that could connect him with Floriana. I’d noted that all her belongings had been cleared out—I’d assumed the women had taken what they could before they fled, or perhaps Floriana’s husband had sent people to empty the place. But I hadn’t seen who’d done it, and Gallus had been there ...
“I worked late on a job,” Gallus said quickly. “Tried to get back home. Took a wrong turn. I don’t know this part of the city. Would you walk me there? For pay, of course. I wouldn’t presume—”
“No.” I cut him off, and he flinched. “No time.”
Cassia had already started up the stairs and banged open the door above.
“Why?” Gallus asked in perplexity. “Where can you be going this late?”
I hesitated. If Gallus told the truth, and he was simply lost, he could wait safely in our rooms until we returned—if we did. If we did not make it back, he could navigate his way home in daylight.
But if he was involved in this conspiracy …
“The Palatine. Come with us.”
Gallus blinked. “The Palatine? Now? Why …?”
I regarded him stubbornly. “Come with us, and I will see you safely home. Otherwise …” I made a gesture that said I’d leave him to the Fates.
Cassia clattered down the stairs, a leather bag over her shoulder and a small lantern in her hand. “Let us be quick.”
Gallus’s brows rose as I took the lantern and immediately fell into step with her. He waited a few heartbeats, then pattered after us. “I admit, you have me curious. And us keeping together will be safer than me blundering about in the dark.”
I scarcely listened as I led the way down the hill, again holding Cassia close. A pair of vigiles nervously patrolling headed for us, but I growled at them, and they faded into the shadows.
Our lantern made only a feeble light in the darkness as we moved around the quiet Forum Romanum and began the climb to the Palatine. Gallus puffed behind us up the hill, tripping on loose rocks.
Guards met us before we reached the top, demanding our business. One who’d been on duty when I’d visited previously recognized me and escorted us to the gate. Nero must have given the word that we were to be admitted at any time, because the gate guard led us in without hesitation. He raised his brows at Gallus, but I indicated the man was with me, and we were at last ushered into the courtyard.
The man with the shaved head and toga—I never learned his name—forestalled us there. Before I could tell him I sought Severus Tullius, not Nero, the man barked, “He is dining. You will wait.”
He bent a hard-eyed stare on Gallus, who’d opened his mouth as though to explain who he was. Gallus snapped his mouth shut and remained silent.
The shaved-headed man led us across the courtyard with its huge fountain into an anteroom with walls of Egyptian marble and a floor mosaic depicting galloping horses. A small table graced the room, which was otherwise empty.
Our guide deserted us without a word. Two lamps lit our surroundings, allowing Gallus to study the walls with professional interest.
Cassia went to the table, which was a slab of marble supported by a gilded pillar in the form of a buxom nymph. She removed scrolls and tablets from her bag and began sorting them into piles.
A slave brought a tray bearing three cups of wine and left it wordlessly on the table. Cassia gave him a nod of thanks. He studied us curiously as he went out, no doubt wondering what sort of odd people Nero was welcoming to his presence this late.
I ignored the wine, and Gallus didn’t notice, too absorbed in running his hands over the walls. Cassia took a polite sip or two as she continued to sift through her notes.
At one point I stood behind her, wishing I could make sense of her writing. “What did you learn at Priscus’s house?” I asked. “You were about to tell me.”
“Hmm?” Cassia jerked around, as though having forgotten