The Curse-Maker by Kelli Stanley Page A

somehow.”
    â€œWas he cursed by Bibax?”
    â€œI was listening to Vibia talk about the mine. You think—”
    â€œI think you need to speak to the grandmother.”
    She rubbed her hand thoughtfully. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
    â€œAnd the mine?”
    â€œThe mine. The story is that a man died in a cave-in.”
    â€œSlaves die in mines all the time without ghosts shutting them down.”
    â€œThis wasn’t a slave. A Roman—maybe an official, I don’t know. Vibia was very vague, and Flavia was uncomfortable with the conversation.”
    â€œWhen did he die?”
    â€œAbout two, two and a half years ago. A lot of people swear the mine is genuinely haunted—that’s why it’s still closed. Even an investor was scared off. He came up from Durnovaria, I think it was, and wanted to reopen it but was frightened away by the ghost.”
    She shivered again. “I didn’t like hearing about it. There’s something— wrong —about Aquae Sulis, Arcturus.”
    I grunted. “Curses. Ghosts. Murder … though murder’s nothing new in this town, not if we’re right about Bibax. Two years, three—who knows how long he could have been playing Sulis.”
    â€œWhat would you like me to do?”
    I took her hand in mine. “I want you to be careful. Killings and blackmail and whatever the hell else are rotting this town from the inside out. No one knows it, or maybe they just don’t give a good goddamn. It’s going to be dangerous to ask the right questions, and even the wrong ones. I’d like to get the hell out of here, today, tonight. It’s poison. A goddamn city of poison.”
    â€œI can take care of myself, Ardur. I’ve told you that.”
    â€œI know you can, but until Bibax turned up dead, things were running nice and smooth—and they all want to keep it that way. We don’t know what we’re waking up, and no one—not the innocent or the guilty—will like it. I gave my word or I’d move us back to Londinium tonight.”
    She nodded. Nothing I said had frightened her.
    â€œAll right. What about tomorrow?”
    â€œDo what any well-bred woman would do. Go back to the baths. If you get a chance to talk to that old woman—”
    â€œI will. I’ll find a way, don’t worry. Anything else?”
    I gave her what I hoped was my disarming grin. “I don’t have to tell you to keep an eye on Sulpicia.”
    She frowned. “Better mine than yours.”
    I bit my lip. “But Gwyna—I will have to talk to her tomorrow.”
    â€œWhat? Why should you have to see that—”
    â€œBecause I’ll get better results than you will. I think a direct confrontation about the blackmail will work with her. Even if it doesn’t, it will set things in motion.”
    Her lips stretched in a thin line. “As long as certain other things aren’t set in motion.”
    I ignored her and poured myself another drink. I was congratulating myself on how well I’d handled it when a light flamed in Gwyna’s eyes that made me suspicious.
    â€œMaybe I should talk to Philo.”
    I nearly spat the wine across the room. “Philo? Why the hell should you see Philo?”
    â€œFor the same reasons you’re seeing Sulpicia. The weak spot, Arcturus. He’ll be less guarded, and as the leading doctor in Aquae Sulis he’ll probably know about these deaths. I can at least bring up Rusonia and Sulpicia’s dead husband, and find out the details.”
    Logically, she was right—but goddamn it, I wasn’t logical. “No.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, no?”
    â€œNo is what I mean when I say no. I don’t want you to see Philo. Besides, you’ll be in the baths in the morning.”
    â€œI can go a little later. It’s more fashionable anyhow. You’ll have to get there midafternoon as well, if you want