Meleager. I blink hard, and take the path one step at a time.
Sooner than I expect, the road crests. I stop dead in my tracks. A city of glimmering white spreads across the mountainside, glinting off the sun brightly enough to make me squint. Towering temples and low, long buildings stand firmly on the sloping ground, a stubborn growth on the side of a nearly sheer drop. And between the structures, packed roads weave like a labyrinth.
Simply put, I have never known so many people to exist in this world.
A cacophony of prayers, laughter, songs, and yells echo across the marble. I stand at the top, until the men who’d fallen behind me pull ahead. They nudge one another and grin at the sight before them.
I realize too late where I’ve landed. The City in the Sky—a place I’d heard countless tales and legends of, the home of Artemis’s twin. Peleus told me on one of the longer hikes of the boar hunt, that once, Zeus had sent two eagles in opposite directions. When their flights finally intersected, it was in the sky right above me: Delphi, the center of the universe.
My mouth goes drier than I’d imagined possible. I swallow roughly and try to tune out the crowds and noise that I’ve never witnessed before. I press my shoulders back, and walk into Delphi.
I find a communal fountain soon enough. I drink probably too much, and I hardly mind that the taste is far filthier than that of the streams and rivers I’m accustomed to. Travelers crowd in around me, and I tense. As soon as I’ve had my fill, I get out as fast I can.
The crowds swallow me up. I hear a handful of languages, and the faces around me are from different lands. People bump into me constantly and take winding routes and paths that I can’t seem to figure out. But it’s clear that the bulk of the crowd is making their way to the largest temple here. I can see it from scores away, and I know it must be the Temple of Apollo.
The columns stand thick and tall, and I can’t imagine how they were ever constructed. The temple radiates a sort of unease. Solemn priests guard the outside, buried under robes. When I squint to see into the entrance, all I see is darkness.
I turn onto the first pathway that leads away from it. I make myself focus on the reason I’m even here: provisions, supplies to last . . . my gut clenches. Forever, maybe. The thought carves me hollow. I scan the buildings I pass as I shove my way through the crowds. Unnerving statues line this road, painted in tacky shades of purple, red, and green. Their eyes follow me.
The glaring sunlight gradually softens into evening gold, and I still haven’t found much of anything that could help me. I stumble to a dejected halt in a relatively quiet alley. People swarm by me like ants. It was stupid to come here. I wonder if I’ll even be able to navigate myself out of these winding roads by sundown.
I lean against the cold marble wall, and my hood falls down. A few men at the end of the alley glance over, and I shoot them a warning glare. I doubt anyone would dare attack me in front of so many people, and even if they try, I know I could easily overpower them.
I feel my thoughts slipping away from me again, that dull armor of detachment settling over me. It’s a relief, I guess. Instead of remembering.
I’m not sure how long has passed, but the men are closer than I realized. My confidence wavers momentarily, and I casually reach around my waist to check that the golden knife is still strapped to my belt.
But as they get closer, it’s easy enough to see that they’re not here to threaten me. There are only two of them. They both wear wide, giddy smiles that stretch their faces. I stare back at them uncomfortably.
After a few more excruciating seconds, one of them murmurs, “Atalanta?”
My mouth falls open. “How did you—”
“It’s true?” he cuts me off. He barks a laugh and turns to his friend. “I told you!”
The other man’s dark hair is streaked through with red. He shakes his head, and concedes a shrug. “The hair gave it away, I suppose.” The man pauses, and stares at me intently. “The whole city’s been speaking of the huntress Atalanta, golden-haired and as fierce as any man. Some even say you slew the Calydonian Boar?”
I swallow hard and ignore his question. Maybe Laertes passed through here. Maybe I’d been spoken of since the moment Meleager invited me on his hunt. Or maybe the gods are just playing tricks on me. I turn my head sideways, glancing at the dimming light at the end of the alleyway. My mind reels. They know my name. This city knows my name.
“What are you doing here, then?” the first man asks. A thin layer of sweat rings his face. I push myself closer against the wall, trying to think of an excuse.
“I don’t know,” I mutter. It’s the truth. “Just passing through.”
He nods, as if he understands. The second man tilts his head.
“Sorry to hear about the prince,” he tells me. I inhale sharp and quick, and look away from them both. It’s like I can sense him weighing his next words. The urge to run grows stronger and stronger, though my stomach aches. “I can’t imagine what that must feel like. Knowing it was your fault.”
The noise around me drops to nothing. I push myself off the wall, moving closer to him and staring straight into his eyes—I’m nearly as tall as him. They’re blown wide, hazel and full of sudden fear. That detached dullness still dims my mind, but my arm lashes out, grabbing his bicep hard. I don’t know what rumors he’s heard or told, or whether they’re true.
But it does nothing to stop my other hand from smashing into his face. He yells something, leaping away from us and calling out to the crowds pushing through the roads. I hear nothing of it.
The second man reacts instinctively, wincing as he grabs my arm and tries to twist it behind me. My knee jerks up, crashing into his groin, and he doubles over. I think I even laugh.
From my periphery, I see the first man return frantically, and there are several others with him. Fine, I think. Let them try and take me.
But none dare move closer. My opponent keeps darting his gaze from me to the men watching; I can see on his face that he knows he is unmatched. He told me I was a legend, after all. He wants a way out. And I want to hurt.
It makes it pretty easy for me to finally take him down, one knee firmly on his chest, my hands at his throbbing throat. He gasps, and the sounds of the men behind me gradually come into focus. I glance up, and see the glint of coins changing hands. I frown, my grip on the man’s throat loosening.
I heave myself back up to my feet. “What’s this?” I demand, pointing at the money. “Betting on me? Against me?”
They take a peculiar interest in the cobblestones beneath their feet. I shake my head—I will not be the subject of their games. “Pay up,” I demand, one bloody hand outstretched. The men are smart. They deposit the money into my hands. “Thank you.”
I pocket the coins and turn down the opposite end of the alley. Someone shouts my name. It feels strange to hear it in a stranger’s voice. I glance over my shoulder, and a bigger man looks me up and down. “I bet I could beat you.”
I raise my eyebrows. I pause, considering my next words, knowing full well that I should have left the alley minutes ago. “Tomorrow,” I say, my voice toneless and foreign to my own ears. “Same time and place.”
A rumble of laughter erupts from my small audience. I hear them placing bets as I turn from them, walking from the alley. I’m not entirely certain what I’ve gotten myself into. But their savage, condescending grins are seared in the back of my mind. And the coins I’ve won clank against one another in my bag.
For the first time in days, I smile—but there’s no warmth in it.
CHAPTER SIX
Kahina
The forest is bright and alive in the midday sun. Words without a voice echo through my head: this way, this way, this way, this way, this way, Kahina. I want to shout at them to stop. Though I know I’ll never escape the rock-crumbled dirt and sighing trees without these words, I know
I would smash them into pieces if I could. I feel myself pushed off of a mental brink I thought I’d never have to face again.
Artemis had pressed her cold hands against my temples before I left, transmitting some directional charge to Arkadia. She’d claimed that it carried her protection, but I have dwindling trust in this pantheon.
This invasion inside my head maddens me. It’s too much like her brother’s gift to me. I try to think of anything else, but I have nothing left that doesn’t tie me back to Delphi. Not even my friends, the band of girls I’ve been banished from, are separate from my past. The trees grow closer together the farther south I move, and if my mind were more present—if my mind were mine—I might be able to stop the memories.
“Four hundred drachma? My lord, we agreed on far more.”
“Hippomenes,” an impossibly loud voice reprimanded. “Remember to whom you speak.”
“But, my Lord, I went all the way to Corinth.”
The other man was too shrouded in shadows for Kahina to see. Hippomenes turned back to her, his green eyes furious. Kahina couldn’t fathom what her cousin had done. She’d pleaded with him the whole way here, and offered a thousand apologies for what her father did. But now, he just nodded for her to step forward, and she did—with shaking legs and breath, and a shriveling hope that Hippomenes was still on her side. The man in the corner stepped forward enough to let light spill over the planes of his face. His beauty was not of this world.
“She’ll do,” he said dismissively. “Call the other priestesses to come retrieve her for further instruction.”
Hippomenes gave a curt bow, his dark curls spilling loosely across his neck, and the young pirate stalked out of the dark room. Kahina watched him leave, wanting him to come back. He betrayed his family. He was evil, of course—an inexperienced and greedy thief who scoured the coastlines for any source of treasure—but hadn’t always been that way. And she did not want to be alone with this strange man.
The man walked closer to her, and she realized his hair seemed spun of gold. His eyes were round pieces of sky, and contained every bit of a horizon’s endless domain. Despite the smile playing across his lips, he radiated malevolence. Kahina froze, her eyes flicking downward.
“Did you have a nice trip here?” he asked, his voice playing at gentleness. She kept her mouth shut, and he moved briskly on, oblivious to her discomfort. “Do you know where you are, Kahina?”
Kahina shook her head. That question was easy to answer. She’d seen ragged cliffs and sharp mountains in the covered wagon she’d been stuffed inside of, and then she’d been let out into a strange city hovering in the middle of a soaring valley, green trees covering the earth like thick blankets. The air was charged with a distinct energy, emanating from the polished, white structures and monuments scattering the city. The city felt sharp, like the jagged edge of shattered glass: it didn’t look outright dangerous, but it could leave deep gashes and permanent scars. This was nothing like her homeland, Corinth, with its gentle waves lapping the sun-rich shore. A gleaming temple towered in the center of it, and she’d been ushered inside quickly by Hippomenes, only to find darkness and the scent of sulfur.
“Delphi,” the man supplied. The name struck a chord inside her. She’d heard stories of this place—girls who spoke the gods’ will, the future revealed in terrifying fits of hysteria.
“Why me?” Kahina asked, the facts connecting in her mind. She clenched her fists tight to keep them from shaking. “I have no . . . gift. I’m nothing special.” Kahina poured her heart into the words, hoping she’d be deemed too much trouble to keep.
“Of course you’re nothing special,” he replied easily. “None of you are, at first.”
“I don’t want—”
“I don’t care.” He glanced up as Hippomenes re-entered the dark room, two veiled girls in plain tunics beside him. They did not speak. Kahina’s heart lurched. The man nodded to them, and they approached her.
“These girls will give you your tunic and explain it all.” The man crossed his arms behind his back. “We have plenty of clients waiting, so make it quick. Like I said, this isn’t about what you want. It’s about what they want to hear. But don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll learn to like this arrangement. It does come complete with some extra gifts.”
With a lithe flick of his fingers, a green bolt of light burst up from his hand and down Kahina’s throat. She choked at first, sagging to the ground. The two veiled girls hauled her up, as if they’d done it a thousand times before, and held her still until she could breathe again.
“What have you done?” Hippomenes’s voice broke through the chaos. There was a hint of that Hippomenes from years ago, and for a glorious moment, Kahina believed he would take her away from Delphi, back home.
“Not your concern, boy.” The man waved his hand dismissively. “Just keep my supply coming. Now, Kahina, try to relax. This is just the beginning.”
The dimness of the room and the unbelievable pain of the green light nearly made Kahina lose her vision. She leaned heavily on the silent, covered girls. As they started to lead her away, she coughed until she could form words again. “Who are you?”
The man turned to her. He smiled again, and tapped his head twice. “You must know by now.”
Days pass like this. I stagger onward, caught between the voice and visions in my head. When I need it, I’m led to streams and rivers. I’m just sane enough to choke down mouthfuls of dried meat and fruit a few times a day. I don’t know if I sleep. The woods stretch on like oblivion, growing a fraction colder each night.
One afternoon, I crest a hill to find the ocean stretching alongside me—that endless blue, pouring ceaselessly toward the horizon. Our family belongs to the sea, my father likes to say. He claimed his father was Poseidon, the sea god. But my father’s mother passed away before I was born, so there’s nobody to say if it’s truth or fantasy.
I stumble to a halt, the wind coming off the waves rippling my chiton. Corinth. I want to go home with a cutting ache, a pain so intense that only the fear Artemis lodged in me quells it. I am still Apollo’s priestess. I still have his prophecies inside of me, and it is only his sister’s protection that can keep me safe.
For now, I tell myself, as I too often do. Not forever.
Weeks later, my mind falls silent in a painful rush. I fall to my knees at the top of a towering hill. Breathing hard, I clutch the sides of my head. Tears spring to my eyes, but I blink them away and try to assess my surroundings. In my daze, I’ve somehow led myself to a place I certainly have never been before; the hill overlooks valleys and fields that burst with colors I’ve never seen, and the sun swells just on top of the horizon, equal parts fuchsia and orange. The sky is alight with golden streaks, and something in my heart calms. My mind goes quiet, and I know I’ve reached where I am meant to be. Arkadia.
To the left, a modest palace sits between empty fields and an impressively large stable. A racing track lays abandoned just behind the white towers of the palace, and thick trees line the whole property. It’s starting to get too cold for fruit to hang, but I can imagine this place in midsummer—the figs and olives dragging the branches down with their heaviness, the crops exploding with bountiful life.
I’m struck with a sense of tired belonging almost instantly. Not optimism or joy, but a calmness that’s almost pleasant. This is a place so unlike the dense forests I traveled with Artemis, or the dim temple I lived in at Delphi. The ocean is far from here, but Arkadia has some of the wildflowers and rounded mountains that remind me of Corinth.
I’m exhausted with the strain of a journey I hardly remember. I can’t even guess at how many lands I’ve traversed, but I need to get out of the wilderness before dark. The palace below is my best option, though its white walls and marble pillars make me wary with their familiarity to Delphi.
I stand on sore legs, and trek down the hill until I’m standing
level with the barren fields. The last light of day leaves the open sky, and I square my tired shoulders as I approach the looming palace.
The baying of hounds stops me halfway to the door. Four dogs, large and mangy, run out of the dim shadows behind the trees, barking up a storm. I shove aside panic, remembering how Artemis kept her wolves in check; I drop to a kneel, holding both my hands erect in front of me. Confused, the dogs slow to a cautious approach. I shut my eyes tight, forcing my breathing to slow. I try to radiate calm thoughts, and I hear the front door swing open. I open one of my eyes, squinting up.
A man, maybe four or five years older than me, stands in the doorframe, shouting curses at the dogs. He stops abruptly when he sees me. “Oh.”
He glances behind me, then behind himself. The man leans back into the doorway, and comes back with a torch. He raises it, illuminating himself.
The firelight catches his face—he has dark eyes, and they stare down at me, equal parts suspicious and surprised. His hair is pale, but with the flames, I can’t tell if it’s golden or red. He’s quite tall, which makes him a bit daunting from where I kneel on the ground.
“The dogs . . . know you?” he asks, his head tilting. Before I can answer, he continues, “Oh! You must be the messenger. Has King Iasus sent you? When will he return?”
“Two days hence,” the voice within me replies automatically. I resist the urge to slap my mouth shut, so I clench my teeth and force a smile. I’ll have to play along. The man’s face transforms from caution to joy, and despite myself, it makes me feel kind of good.
“Are you certain?” he asks. I nod, because I am incapable of a false answer. He gives me a careful grin. “I hope he found her.”
“Found who?”
He laughs, as if I’ve made a joke. It’s a raucous noise, but a nice one. I wonder if I should laugh along, but he’s already bounding down the marble stairs. He helps me to my feet, and I brush the dust off my tunic. The hounds still circle me, more curious than hostile.
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