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“I’m leaving the city,” Pollux said in his clipped accent. “This is my chance. I’m not going to race anymore. I want to live as a free man. I will ride with them to Corlivo.”

“Has the Imperator granted you freedom?” Sebastianus asked.

The wiry man shook his head. “No. I’m leaving anyway. I’ll grant myself my own freedom.”

“He’ll send someone after you,” Sebastianus said. “He’ll hunt you down.”

Pollux smiled. “Perhaps, but last time I checked, I am very fast.”

I HAD SET something in motion, and it could not now be undone. The next hour was a whirlwind. Don and Pollux prepared Sebastianus’s smallest and lightest carriage, to be pulled by the mare on which I had been learning to ride and a bay gelding that belonged to Cassius. Pollux checked them over even more carefully than Don did. What did he think of them after a career driving the sleek, powerful stallions that pulled the chariots?

I packed a few dresses, undertunics, and my warm cloak in my old satchel. I tossed in several pallae, knowing I would spend much of the trip peering out from between their folds. I rummaged in the bottom to make sure the little statue of the Goddess was still there, along with my comb and brush. I regretted that I had never shown to it to Cassius. Perhaps I’d never have the chance again.

Downstairs in the study, I located Geographica, confirming that Straba’s letter was tucked inside, and added it, along with both Astrolabe and The Collected Writings of Brunus Aurelius to my bag as well. I also took Seb’s dog-eared map of the continent. After a brief search of the room, I found the brass astrolabe that he had shown me so many months before and packed that too. I pushed myself to keep moving so that I wouldn’t have time to feel fear, sorrow, or regret.

As I was putting my now-heavy bag over my shoulder, Sebastianus came in. A look of deep sadness crossed his face when he saw me.

“I took the books and the astrolabe,” I said.

He waved the information away. “Take anything you want.”

“Thank you for everything you have done for me.”

He brushed my thanks away also. He hadn’t moved from the doorway.

We had spent months drawing closer to one another. Now, in just the space of a morning, a chasm seemed to have opened between us that we didn’t know how to bridge. A painful silence hung in the air.

“Don’t worry about me,” I said. “I’m a falcon.”

He closed his eyes as though the words were painful to him. “Then train your fierce eye on the mountains and fly. Use your eyes, your ears, and your talons if you must. I’ll follow as quickly as I can, and I will see you in Corlivo.”

I blinked to hold back the tears building behind my eyes. I nodded.

“Keep yourself safe.” He turned and left the room without another word.

ISMENE WAITED ON a bench in the atrium, looking small and frightened, but determined. She had no bag, but Cornelia had found a cloak and palla for her; these were folded neatly on her lap.

Cornelia had also packed several bags of food for the journey, things that would travel well like bread, cheese, and fruit, along with bottles of water and wine. As Don loaded these onto the carriage, Klaudia burst in.

“Oh, thank the gods, you’re still here.” She wrapped me in a warm hug. “Look after yourself and your new friend. I’ll stall them as long as I can.”

Finally, everything was assembled. Don, Cornelia, and Klaudia stood in a row to see us off, a phalanx of friendship and care. Sebastianus prowled behind them like an angry bear. Our eyes met, and in that instant, I wanted more than anything to hurl myself into his arms. He turned his head as though he could not bear to look at me.

Just as I was wondering where he was, Cassius scurried in carrying a square wooden box about the size of a generous loaf of bread: the orrery we had worked on together.

“For you,” he said. “Should you have need to predict the future.”

I shook my head. “Cassius, this is your creation. You should keep it.”

“Who will ever see our work, if it remains hidden here? Take it. Perhaps it will inspire others to look beyond the limits of the present day.”

I passed the box to Don, who stowed it safely with the other luggage.

A wave of goodbyes propelled Ismene and me into the carriage. Pollux called to the horses, and we were away, through the villa’s gate and down the lane and across the plaza in the late-afternoon sun. Crowds pushed so hard against the Bronze Gate that the doors had begun to buckle. A row of soldiers struggled to hold the people back. How would we ever get out of the Imperial District?

Fortunately, Pollux knew another way: a small, unassuming passage used by charioteers to come and go from the Circodrome. He drove us around to the coliseum’s stables and through a dim, narrow tunnel, which smelled of sweat and horse manure. In a few moments, we were out in the city, riding through the narrow, crowded streets until, as the sun reached its midday height over the gleaming marble buildings, we left Panpirion behind us.

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