Until We Burn | Dr Who

Chapter Seventy-Six: The False Prophet

I sit up with a start. Blinking rapidly, I stare at my surroundings. I am still in the atrium of the Caecilius' home, laid out on one of the seats.

A hand comes to rest on my sweat-beaded forehead. "Inara," I hear the Doctor's anxious voice call out to me, my head still fuzzy from sleep. Or something else. The comfort brought by his presence is soon forgotten as I remember what I had seen. Panicking, I try to stand but he pushes me back down. "It's all right. You just passed out for a bit — longer than I'd expected, but you're fine."

Quintus and his father stand just behind him, watching over me. At a small flick of the Doctor's hand, the boy pours out a goblet of wine and passes it to me. I can't gain the clarity to speak just yet. Stroking the hair out of my face, the Doctor guides the cup to my lips. I only manage a sip before pulling away, trying to stand again. "The Coin."

"She was just trying to get a reaction."

"No. No, the Coin, it's here. I saw it."

His concern only becomes more evident. Moving to sit beside me, he continues to stroke my hair in the hopes that it will encourage me to relax. "You had a vision?" he worriedly asks.

"It was around his neck. Lucius, he— he has it. We need to get it back."

It is enough for him to believe. He doesn't doubt me or dismiss it with assumptions. Instead, he pauses, nods, and takes my hand in his firm, reassuring grip. "We'll get it. I promise we will. Just let me figure out what's going on with these vapours."

I begrudgingly agree and accept the cup once more, draining it of the alcohol and holding it out for more. Quintus obliges and pours one for himself, too. I realise that it is evening now. The light peeking through the patterned windows and the gates to the garden has gone, leaving only the candles arrayed around the room to provide us with their warm glow.

The Doctor presses a quick kiss against my forehead before jogging over to the raised vent of the hypocaust. It takes a few tries to dislodge the heavy grate that covers it, allowing the acrid steam to rise in more distinct clouds. I stay seated but peer over at it, finding the orange glistening of heated stones rather than the darkness there usually is from the insulated gap between the ground floor and the space below. "Different sort of hypocaust," he notes.

Standing over him with an oil lamp, Caecilius replies, "Oh, yes, we're very advanced in Pompeii. In Rome, they're still using the old wood-burning furnaces. But we've got hot springs leading from Vesuvius itself."

"Who thought of that?"

"The soothsayers," he says, sitting on the edge of the vent, careful not to touch it. "After the great earthquake, seventeen years ago. An awful lot of damage. But we rebuilt."

The Doctor frowns. "Didn't you think of moving away. No, then again, San Francisco..."

"That's a little restaurant in... Naples, isn't it?"

I can't stick around any longer. This idle chatter is getting us nowhere. He may have promised me, but that is easily drowned out by thoughts of the Coin. It's so close, I almost have it. I can hear it calling to me.

While they're distracted, I sneak out through the gates and into the elegant neighbourhood of villas that make up Foss Street. It takes some wandering to bring me to a more densely populated area near the poorer end of the city. I only pause to ask a fishmonger for directions as he packs up his stall. He is so distracted by pointing the way to Lucius's house that he does not notice the small knife I take from his table, slipping it into my pocket.

The villa of the City Augur is, unsurprisingly, large and elaborate. Like Caecilius's, it has a set of gates that open into a gardened courtyard and another to the atrium. I slip in the servant's entrance round the back. Nobody passes me as I tiptoe along the narrow corridor and into the far more spacious halls. The way is barely visible, only a few candles lighting the way. I take an oil lamp to aid my search.