Inthe middle of it all remained a need for brute force. The inchoatepower of the Earth itself. He lit the lamp and waited a moment. Anothermoment. The lamp burned with a single buttery flame. The terra-cottaorange of the clay seemed to glow, and he couldn’t tell if this was thenatural light or burgeoning magic. The slight, rounded shadow of thelamp on the ground shuddered. Then vanished, as a circle ofillumination spread out, stretching along the pasture and up the sideof Vesuvius. The scrub-covered ground seemed to glow withthe same light. People in the town would think the hillside had caughton fire.
Gaiuswaited, the nails of his hands digging welts into his palms. He didn’tknow what would happen, what signal he should wait for. He only knewwhat he wanted to happen, and waiting for that was agonizing. To theeast the sky faded with a hint of the gray of dawn. He had to get outof the open, but he wanted to see the spell ignite.
Then,the faint glow on the hillside disappeared. It didn’t fade, didn’tdissipate. Gaius swore he saw the light itself sink into the ground.Then, the Earth rumbled. Just an earthquake. Tiny, inconsequential.The kind anyone living near a volcano must sense from time to time.
Butthis—he had triggered it. He was sure of it. And he was sure this wasjust the start. He laughed. Put up his arms in triumph and brayed likea fool.
Thelamp in the middle of his circle had burned out. The clay was cold. Itspower had all gone into the mountain. It was working!
Hescooped up the lamp, the charcoal, the candles, knife, wicks, and othertools and shoved them into the bag. Then, before the sun rose, he racedback to Herculaneum, and from there to safety.
Hehad arranged for a boat to wait for him. He gave careful instructionsto the captain: However strange and chaotic the world became, theyshould not leave until Gaius Albinus was on board, or they wouldforfeit their very large fee. The galley had a cabin belowdecks, and acupboard that Gaius sealed up with waxed leather and blankets until theplace was perfectly dark. He paid enough that the captain asked noquestions.
Themiddle of that day, Vesuvius exploded. While he was sorry he missed themain of the eruption, asleep in his sealed cabin, that night from thesafety of the boat at sea he watched the fires light up the darkness.It was glorious.
Inthe centuries after, he collected eyewitness testimonies. Pliny theYounger and other historians gave a great accounting of the disasterthat buried Pompeii and Herculaneum. Some eighteen hundred years later,the first excavations of the cities revealed grotesqueries, shapes ofdespair frozen in ash and preserved in plaster by archaeologists.Gray husks of mothers bent over children, of dogs chained helplessly towalls. They had known they were going to die. They’d had moments toprepare, to wait. Squeeze shut their eyes, hold their breath, and hopethat they would survive the flood of ash. Seeing photographs of thosecast figures so many years later, Gaius felt that stab of triumph allover again. That thrill of realization: he had done it, he had causedthis terrible thing to happen, this explosion of the Earth.
Andhe could do it again.
GaiusAlbinus emerged from the basement of Diocletian’s Palace with the lamp,which he had named the Manus Herculei, safely in hand.
Hehad heard and read the speculation of philosophers on the topic ofimmortality. Did humankind need the challenge of mortality? A limitedspan of time in order to feel the drive of ambition? Would ambitioneven exist, without the need to leave one’s mark on the world beforeone died? If granted immortality, would a person become bored? Wouldthey long for death?
Wouldthey cease to even remember all the time they had experienced? Wouldthey become little more than ghosts?
Gaiusheld the two-thousand-year-old clay lamp in his hand and could declarethat immortality did not cause forgetfulness, did not dampen ambition.He remembered everything. He could smell the musk of goat and the tangof dried grass of that field; he remembered the fires of Vesuviuslighting up the night, the last of the screams that came from the townas the ash flow settled. The satisfaction, knowing thathideous old vampire was likely burned to nothing and buried under a tonof ash. The touch of clay against his skin was like a spark thattransported him through time.
Thepower of the lamp had not diminished. No, by hiding it he had allowedit to sleep until its power grew. The next disaster he triggered withthis artifact would make Vesuvius seem like a candle.
Hewas securing the gates as the archaeologist had instructed when hesensed a presence, an eddy of power in the night. Several of them.Enemies.
Acall echoed on stone and through shadow. “Dux Bellorum! Yourtime is done!” Arrogant laughter followed.
Gaiusknew the voice, though he had not heard it in decades. Not everyvampire chose to follow Gaius, to join his army. Some rebelled. Thisman was an upstart, Master of the city of Barcelona, with centuriesof power pressing from him. Still a child, really. Nothing to worryabout for Gaius Albinus, known as Dux Bellorum, also called Roman. Lastof his people.
Gaiusslapped the crowbar against his hand and waited, mindful of theprecious artifact wrapped in cloth and tucked in his pocket.
Earlyon, there had been those who recognized what he was doing and opposedhis quest. Even if they didn’t entirely understand the nature of hisquest and its origins. That he was merely a general, following ordersfrom his Caesar. Everyone who had opposed him, mortal or monster, fullof power or merely earnest and naive, had failed. They would fail now,and he would enjoy putting them down.
Onemore hurdle, then, before leaving Split. Then, he could begin hisjourney to the park called Yellowstone, in North America.
KittyLearns the Ropes
I HIT PLAY on the laptop DVD software and sat back to watch.
Thiswas a recording of a boxing match in Las Vegas last year. The Heavyweight World Championships, the captionread. I was glad it did, because I knew nothing about boxing, nothingabout who these guys were. Two beefy, sweaty men—one white, with a darkbuzz cut and heavy brow, the
