Next came the Arch of Tiberius, which was little more than a foundation for an arch, whose history and significance had been long forgotten. Beyond the arch, they walked along the side of the Basilica Julia, which stretched out on their right. A long line of marble steps led up to a large rectangular area filled with rows of foundation pylons and a mash of scattered stones and blocks. The building, which housed shops, courts, and banks had once been a favorite gathering place for Romans. So much so that checkerboards had been found carved into some of the steps. But the building held no interest to Pierce, whose narrative ended as soon as they were past that stretch of ancient city.
He paused at the corner of the Basilica Julia and raised his hands toward three, tall, fluted columns glowing orange in the nighttime lighting. The columns, which looked like they could fall apart in a stiff wind, still held a piece of entablature on top. “I give you the temple of Castor and Pollux.”
“Castor and Pollux,” King repeated, recalling his Greek history. “They were twins who helped defeat the Tarquins.” His eyebrows rose. “Also the sons of Jupiter, aka, Zeus, aka the legendary half father of Hercules. This could be it.”
Wasting no time, King hopped the fence, climbed the shambled staircase, and entered the ruins, which were raised up several feet atop what remained of the foundation. As Pierce debated following—this was a major breach of archaeological protocol—he noticed that King had his weapon drawn. Knowing King would not do so without reason, he climbed over the fence and followed his friend into the remains of the ancient temple.
Entering a clearing at the center of the temple ruins, Pierce found King quickly moving from one feature to the next. Foundation stones, step fragments, wall remains—nothing escaped his scrutiny. “Any particularly interesting history I should know about?” he asked.
“Nothing outstanding. The location of the temple is supposed to be where Castor and Pollux came to water their horses after their successful battle. The Senate gathered here for a time and later housed a few different Roman offices, but nothing extraordinary.”
“And nothing related to Hercules.”
“Just the lineage.”
“Then what should I be looking for?”
“Honestly, I was kind of hoping there would be an engraving like we found beneath Gibraltar.”
“The Herculean Society’s symbol.” King frowned. He’d hoped Pierce’s lead would be more substantial, but they were searching for a location that had been kept secret in the heart of Rome for thousands of years. It wouldn’t be found that easily.
Slowed by the loud revelry of nearby late-night Roman parties and the rumble of vehicles, both of which kept King on edge for intruders, they spent an hour searching every nook and cranny of the site.
And found nothing.
Sweating from the humid Roman heat and discouraged by the apparent dead end, King sat on a stone and looked up at the cloudy sky. Silhouetting the temple’s three columns, the moon’s glow had just begun to pierce the thinning cloud cover.
Pierce sat next to him. “Sorry. This was the best I could come up with.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. I asked you on a hunch to find something that might not even be here. This was my idea.”
“Your hunches typically save a lot of lives.”
“Not always the ones that matter.”
Pierce stood. “Well, we’ve looked everywhere at this site. I think we should check out the temple of Jupiter. We’ve got a few hours of darkness left.”
After walking a few steps, Pierce turned around and found King still sitting. His eyes were fixated on the three columns. “What?”
“We haven’t looked everywhere,” King said before standing and heading for the columns.
Pierce realized what King was about to do and attempted to voice a protest. “King, wait. You can’t—”
But King was already scaling one of the outside columns like a champion logger. Pierce flinched as he heard crumbs of column falling onto the marble base. If Augustina finds out about this, he thought, she might turn me in herself.
After reaching the top of the column, King inspected the exposed top and then climbed on top of the entablature, scouring it with his flashlight.
Pierce waited below like a nervous teenage vandal, bouncing his foot and scanning for onlookers. He could hear King above, moving about. The scrape of plastic on stone preceded a clunk as something fell from above. Pierce cursed in his mind as he began to wonder if bringing King here had been a mistake. His thoughts stopped when he realized that King had fallen silent. He looked up expecting to see King inspecting something with his flashlight, but saw nothing.
King’s flashlight was off.
For a moment, all he could hear was his own shaky breath, but then a loud scrape sounded from above and a rain of debris sprinkled onto his hand. As he pointed his flashlight up he saw King descend in a blur. King landed next to him, grabbed Pierce’s flashlight, and switched it off.
“What’s wrong?” Pierce asked, his heartbeat pulsating hard in his throat.
“Guards. Four of them coming this way. Two from the north. Two from the east.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Keep looking.”
Pierce looked astonished. “What?”
“I saw something.”
“Up there?”
“To the northeast. It looks like a pit beneath a modern covering, across from the Basilica Julia.”
Pierce took a sharp breath and whispered, “The Lacus Curtius.”
“You know what it is?”
“No one really knows for sure. It’s been covered over with ancient stones and it has yet to be excavated. Probably never will be.”
“Why’s that?”
“Politics. Some in Rome believe archaeology does more harm than good. Every request I know of involving an excavation of the Lacus Curtius has been declined. But it’s said to be the entrance to a chasm. There are several stories about the site’s origin and name. One has Mettius Curtius falling into the pit during a battle with Romulus. Another has a horseman, Marcus Curtius, throwing himself, horse and all, into the pit because an oracle deemed it would save Rome. And another—”
Pierce took another quick breath, which King knew signified a revelation. “What?”
“It’s said that Gaius Curtius supposedly dedicated the site in 445 B.C. after…” He looked at King, barely seeing him in the darkness. “A lightning strike split the earth, forming the pit.”
“Lightning…”
“The favored weapon of Zeus,” Pierce said. “At the time, Zeus would have been seen as the source. That it’s not mentioned in the historical record—”
“Means it was erased.” A soft scuffing hit King’s ears. He put a hand on Pierce’s shoulder and pushed him down to a crouch.
“What is it?” Pierce asked with a rushed whisper.
“I must have missed two of them.”
Pierce listened, willing his ears to open wider. Then he heard them. Two sets of footsteps climbing over the pebble-covered ruins. But the sound wasn’t from outside the temple of Castor and Pollux, it was from within.
And close.
King leaned in to Pierce. “If one of them gets off a shot or shouts a warning, the others out there”—he motioned to the forum with his head—“are going to have an army of police descend on us. And even if we do escape, security will be beefed up for a long time to come. When was the last time you were in a fight?”
Pierce felt like he might vomit. “You fought all my fights for me.”