The remaining priest had instantly drawn his blade, and he crouched, defending the statue behind him. His eyes were wide and startled, but his hands were steady, and Usem could see by the graceful way the man moved that he’d been trained as a fighter. He motioned to Nicolaus and retrieved the bayonet from the scholar, whose breath could already be heard in panting wheezes. The first fight was never easy. He motioned him back, away from the fighting. He’d be more of a liability than an asset.

Followed by Usem, Agrippa began to circle around the guard, Augustus more tentatively behind them. Agrippa’s focus was divided in order to monitor the terrain. More priests could arrive at any moment, and he needed to hear them. He could hear Augustus’s heart pounding. The priest clearly could as well, for he lunged toward the weakest of the three fighters, his sword flashing in the air.

Augustus seemed to momentarily rally, his back straightening, his jaw tensing. He parried fiercely, in a way that Agrippa remembered from their youth. Suddenly, he saw Augustus as he had been, the wiry fighter of their training days, how he’d fought up and down the hillsides, his small size and reach balanced by his determination to win.

Augustus edged forward, his blade meeting his opponent’s, gaining ground. Behind him, Usem closed in, jabbing with the bayonet.

The priest looked up over the emperor’s shoulder, and squinted. He raised a hand to shield his eyes.

A ploy, certainly.

“Out of the way!” Usem shouted, and Agrippa glanced up, certain he’d see nothing, and instead saw a tremendous blaze of light, a fireball, speeding across the sky.

Agrippa threw his body against the emperor and heaved him clear. At the same moment, he heard Nicolaus shout. The historian waved a metal box at Agrippa.

“Run!” he yelled.

Agrippa grabbed Augustus by the arm, half carrying him to the gate, pursued by priests and swords. Usem was close behind them, defending their rear, his bayonet slashing.

As they launched themselves through the gate and toward the horses waiting for them outside the wall, the fireball arrived in the air above the courtyard.

Agrippa glanced up and glimpsed something with thousands of teeth, something made of molten metal, something with maddened eyes, something humming a strange, ecstatic song. Then it was gone.

“Ride!” Usem shouted. “We cannot stay here!”

Agrippa stumbled and fell against Nicolaus, who dropped the box containing Hercules’ arrows. Agrippa grabbed the arrows and bow in his arms, smashing them back into their vessel.

Usem flung Nicolaus onto his horse, using strength he did not know he possessed. He took Augustus in his arms and pushed him atop his horse as well.

Agrippa started to mount. They must get away from here before the beast, whatever it was, noticed them. None of them were strong enough to fight it.

Agrippa’s eyes blurred suddenly, and he staggered.

The world went dark. Agrippa could hear shouting, feel hands pounding his shoulder, feel himself being dragged along the stones and heaved onto the back of a horse.