Part 34 (1/2)

Ariella pushed forward, a fearsome dread weighting her limbs. ”No. We are going to the south wall. We will help you.”

Seneca came to his wife and circled her shoulders with his arm. He spoke softly. ”Flora and Jeremiah nearly did not make the trek from the prison to our home. They are-unable-” His voice caught and his eyes filled with tears.

Ariella looked from Seneca to Europa, then down at the two on the couch. They were not reclining, were they? They had collapsed there in exhaustion.

She shook her head slowly. ”No. You cannot stay.”

Quintus grabbed Seneca's arm. ”We can get them out. Together.”

Seneca pulled them into the hall, out of hearing range of the young girl and old man. His eyes held sadness, but also a strange peace.

”The Lord is with us. He will not forsake us.”

Quintus breathed heavily. ”The mountain-”

”May take our lives, yes. But not our souls.”

Ariella tightened her lips, stifling a cry. They could not be left behind. She would not allow it.

Europa embraced her, whispered into her ear. ”We are not afraid, dear one. This day we shall see the face of our Messiah and enter into His glory. Do not fear for us.”

She clutched at the woman, drowning in memories of her last sight of her mother. ”I cannot lose you.”

Europa drew away and put her hands to Ariella's cheeks. ”We shall see each other again. When there will be no more war.”

Her breath came in short gasps now, and tears dripped from her chin. Quintus grasped her hand and led her into the triclinium, where Flora and Jeremiah rested.

The old slave opened his eyes to them, and Ariella bent to kneel at his side. ”Jeremiah-”

He patted her hand. ”This hip will lead me home after all, my girl.” His smile was undimmed by pain or fear. ”I only regret that these two remain.” He pointed to Europa and Seneca.

Europa clucked her tongue. ”We would not leave either of you.”

Beside her, Flora sniffed, trying not to cry. Europa went to her and held her, rocking her as she must have done when the girl was a newborn, exposed by the river, left to die alone.

They do not die alone, any of them.

The words were true, yet they shattered her heart.

Quintus was moving behind her. He gripped her shoulder. ”Come, Ariella. It is time.”

Jeremiah grasped her hand. ”My girl, the Holy One-”

She leaned to kiss his cheek, to whisper in his ear. ”I have made my peace with Him, Jeremiah. Through the Messiah, as you taught me.”

Jeremiah's smile was like the sun s.h.i.+ning through dark clouds and his eyes filled with tears. ”Baruch Hashem.” Blessed be the Name.

She smiled in return. ”And Quintus joins us too.”

He squeezed her hand and took Quintus's with the other. ”My two warriors. He has great plans for you.” A tear pooled in his eye and escaped. ”And I can face the end with joy, knowing that the Creator calls you out to do His work after I am gone.”

She could not release him. It took the gentle pressure of Quintus, untangling her warm fingers from his twisted ones, pulling her backward, away from Jeremiah, from Flora and her parents. She staggered and he caught her weight.

They paused in the doorway. Europa embraced a sobbing Nigidia, wrapped an arm around Portia, kissed them each, then patted Ariella's cheek one final time. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. ”We are well here, my girl. Go in peace.”

And then they were off, retracing their steps through the corridor, as the husband and wife waved farewell. Already, a hole had been ripped through her heart. She followed Quintus, numb with grief.

They climbed back to the street, pulling Portia from the opening last. Her face had grown pale again.

Quintus studied her. ”How do you fare, sister?”

She nodded. ”I will not hold you back.” No doubt she thought of those inside the house.

They moved on, reaching his house within minutes and repeating the process of digging through to get inside. This time, Portia and Nigidia waited in the street. Quintus found a torch still burning, and grabbed it to light the way.

As expected, they found no one at home, even after shouting through every room.

Quintus turned to her in the kitchen, the first time they had been alone since they had stood here once before. She pulled her torn tunic around her, embarra.s.sed.

She looked at his eyes. From this moment, nothing would be the same. There was nothing left to do but leave the city. What kind of life would meet them in the world beyond Pompeii?

Quintus seemed to also feel the hinge of fate. He put a palm to her cheek, ran his thumb over her lips. ”Are you ready?”

She nodded. ”It is time.”

Up on the raised street once again they trudged south, high enough now that they walked on the same level as any of the remaining slanted roofs. From this unnatural vantage point Ariella could survey the entire city, all the way to Maius's estate if she chose to look that way.

Another explosion rocked them from their feet.

They scrambled to stand, turned toward the mountain, and watched amazed as it gushed, the outpouring aimed for Pompeii.

Closer, closer. The surge flowed downward with a speed no one could outrun. They stood transfixed, huddled together, and watched it come.

It swelled down the hillside, then poured toward them, a fiery deluge.

It swallowed the northern fields.

It submerged the northern estates.

Nigidia gave a sharp cry and her legs gave way. Quintus kept her upright. Ariella pulled the girl's head into her shoulder, whispered empty words of comfort into her ear. But she kept an eye on the surging tide of death. For their grief would end in moments, when they joined Maius under the whelming fire.

CHAPTER 52.