“It wasn’t Jupiter.” Her face beamed with a strange inner light. “It was the Christian God, Jesus.”
His smile faltered. “The—what?”
“Jesus, the God of the Christians, healed me.”
Titus shook his head in disbelief.
She rushed on to tell him the whole story as his mind reeled with the news. He hadn’t been sheltered. He knew what the Christians believed. They’d been alternately tolerated and persecuted at intervals since the birth of the religion at the death of its leader. Their refusal to honor the emperor and participate in traditional Roman festivals because they found them in opposition to their invisible god made them insubordinate, unpatriotic, and dangerous in the eyes of good Romans.
But Titus could not deny this one thing: Iris had been blinded because of him. He’d been the one to goad her into climbing the aqueduct with him. Yet here she stood, eyes wide in sight.
“Where’s your father?”
“He left. He’s trying to find a way to get Valentine released.”
“Valentine?” A jolt went through him at the name. “Valentine who?”
Iris rolled her eyes upward, trying to recall. “I can’t remember. It’s like Flavian or something—but not Flavian.” She crossed her arms. “Fla—Fa—Favius!Favius.That’s it!”
Mars and bloody Jupiter!Something cold settled in the bottom of Titus’s stomach. He looked toward the cell door, sitting solid and locked in Quintus’s absence. “I want to meet him.”
Before Iris could respond, Quintus entered, eyes puffy from lack of sleep, yet sparking with energy.
“Titus.” His smile was eager. “You heard the news?”
“It’s a miracle, Quintus.” Titus nodded and looked at Iris, unable to help the shocked grin. “Praise the gods.”
“PraisetheGod,” Quintus corrected. He hurried across the room and fumbled through his keys for the one to unlock the iron door.
“Iris told me everything.” Titus fought to keep the edge from his voice. “It sounds unbelievable, except for—”
“Except for the fact I cansee!” Iris sang out, laughing. She grabbed his arm, tugging. “Come and meet Valentine.”
Titus snagged the lantern from the desk and led the way as the three descended into the darkness, cloyed with smells of sewer and unwashed bodies.
At the bottom, Titus held the lantern high, swinging it to the left and right, sending streaks of light skittering over the walls. The prisoner, lying on the straw at the back of the cell, rolled over and sat up.
“Come into the light,” Titus ordered as Quintus and Iris flanked him.
“Good morning, Valentine.” Iris’s voice went uncharacteristically shy. Titus’s gaze swung from the shadowed prisoner to catch her admiring look. The stab of jealousy froze in his gut as the prisoner spoke.
“Good morning.” Valentine looked from Iris to Titus. Recognition flared in his eyes and his calm faltered before his chin dropped in deference. “Investigator.” He glanced up from beneath rather large eyebrows. “I am surprised to see you.”
“Areyou?” He didn’t mask the accusation in his tone.
Valentine lifted his chin slightly and held his gaze.
“Youknow himtoo?” Quintus looked between the two men in astonishment. Neither answered.
“Titus?”
Valentine’s eyes flicked to Iris when she spoke—which Titus found extremely irritating.
“We’re briefly acquainted.” Titus hung the lantern from the hook in the ceiling. “You healed Iris?”
Valentine’s eyebrows lifted and he looked back and forth between all of them. “I—no,” he stammered. “My God restored Iris’s sight. I am a mere tool in His hands.”
Titus bit back a snide remark but couldn’t deny his curiosity. If it had been anyone but Iris, he’d have dismissed it as a swindler’s trick. He looked at Iris standing beside him and noted again the way her wide brown eyes took in the cell like it was a palace.
