A Change of Heart

Much Too Early on Tuesday March 2, 1490

As I slept my well-deserved sleep, I began to feel a pleasant warmth, like that of lying alongside a large dog under the covers. When had Timo started to generate so much body heat? Had Gus or Lily crept into bed with me? Half waking, I moaned and kicked off the blanket, but the temperature only continued to rise. Soon it felt like helping old Mother Doria stir a pot of soup over the open hearth in the kitchen. Then it was like standing a foot from my library as Tel's dragon flames consumed the walls. Too hot, too hot, too hot.

I opened my eyes to see all Athens burning.

I stood alone in the center of a little square - which my dream-self somehow knew was in the western part of Athens - surrounded by walls of fire. The flames were the Plague and the Plague was the flames, but it was also the fuel that fed the flames, and they grew and roared and spread, devouring all the shops and temples and living creatures in their path. Screams echoed from all sides as Athenians pelted out of burning homes carrying babies and bundles of possessions, dragging small children by the hand, and half-supporting, half-carrying the elderly. Thorny vines lunged like spiky tangles out of the fires and the ground and even thin air to trip or bind refugees, and one by one, the humans were torched by the flames, flaring up like candles where they stood. Billowing black smoke obscured the sky, and though I could hear all the clocks striking noon, the city remained as dark as dusk, lit only by the Plague's manic dance.

Faint, happy barking snapped me out of my trance. Completely unconcerned by the fire and thorns, as if he couldn't see them or they him, Timo bounced around a corner and barreled straight into my calves, nearly toppling me over. Come on, come on, let's play! he seemed to plead as he gamboled around my ankles.

Since my brain was obviously on vacation, instinct took charge. "Let's go home, Timo," I said and took off running in the direction of the orphanage. Even though I'd completely forgotten about using magic, nevertheless I danced through the flames and vines with ease, and Timo plowed right through them and kept pace.

A few streets later, frantic footsteps pounded up to me, and I slowed slightly to see my and Tel's avatar, Cly. Now I was more certain than ever that I was dreaming, because she'd only manifested in the library before when no other humans were around, and even then she did her best to avoid the dogs. For whatever reason she feared them, even though they never did anything more than give her a bored glance or occasionally sniff at her skirts. However, she categorically refused to elaborate on her aversion beyond calling them "great slobbering beasts that chew books and drool all over priceless manuscripts." As far as my research had turned up, dogs shouldn't be able to see avatars, but then again, Timo, Gus, and Lily weren't exactly normal dogs.

"Marina!" Cly cried, "where are you going? The Acropolis is that way!"

I knew exactly where the Acropolis was - namely, not where the orphanage was. "I'm going home," I told her, jumping away from a particularly persistent vine. "Astera will know what to do," I added, fully aware that I sounded like a frightened child, but too frightened to do anything about it.

"No, no, no, you can't go home now! Think of all the history happening all around us! We have to go observe it! We need to be the primary sources! Do you trust anyone else to get it right?" Cly thought of herself as my colleague in the library and frequently roamed the shelves, grumbling about inaccuracies in historical accounts.

"But - " I truly wanted nothing more than to run into Astera's study so she could assure me everything would be just fine. But this was my avatar.... Surely she knew what was best for me?

Sensing my hesitation, Cly whipped out a papyrus scroll and began scribbling the introduction to the history we would write together. "Omniae Athenae flagrabant...." She paused and glared at me. "Did Julius Caesar let someone else write his Commentaries?"