Outrun the Wind

by Elizabeth Tammi

“Are you—” Kahina tries, but stops herself. Clearly, she’s shaken. I wonder if she thinks I’m a monster. “What will you say to your father?”

  “The truth.”

  “He won’t understand.” Her voice breaks. “Atalanta, you—”

  “I’m not sorry.” It’s the last thing I say before the massive front doors close deafeningly.

  I shut my eyes at his footsteps—hurried, frantic, and furious. Nora’s follow just as quickly, but she’s pleading with him. “Iasus, please, listen to her.”

  “No.” I hear him stop, and open my eyes. His eyes are iron, boring straight into me. I stare down at my trembling hands, willing them to stop. “I’m done with her words,” he growls. “I’m done. The last time I listened to her, she somehow changed her courtship into footraces. And now she wants to make them a race to the death?” He barks a laugh and sits down hard at the end of the table.

  I feel Kahina’s eyes on me. Nora hovers behind Iasus, wringing her skirts in her hands. The only sounds are her light steps and his heavy breaths.

  Kahina clears her throat. Father stares at her wearily. “She was only pr-protecting me. Sir.”

  “Oh, was she?” He smiles grimly. “I don’t think I saw you in danger. Then again, I don’t think my daughter does anything without your permission.” He turns back to glare at me. “Why can you not just choose a man?” His voice is tired, strung out, and beyond reason. Father’s hands spread on the table imploringly. It’s still stained with droplets of wine and bread crumbs. The servants have become lenient after so many banquets. “Is that too much to ask? After everything you’ve ruined?”

  “What?” I ask, so quietly I wonder if I actually spoke. “What are you—”

  “You killed your mother!” he screams. Kahina’s head jerks up. Nora freezes in her tracks. Then she reaches out, turns his head toward her, and slaps him hard across his face. My stomach drops.

  “Do not,” Nora says evenly, “blame Atalanta for that. Zeus knows you could have . . .” She trails off in frustration, shoving him aside. Father rubs a weathered hand across his face, staring numbly at the table.

  “My mother?” My voice breaks. My mind breaks. “But I never . . . I don’t even know—”

  “Childbirth,” Nora replies, “is a delicate thing. It was not your fault, girl. Okay?”

  Oh, gods. Father buries his face in his hands. His shoulders shake, and I look between him and Kahina. I realize the truth the instant she does.

  “You didn’t lose Atalanta,” Kahina whispers. “You left her.” My father says nothing. “You left her to die, didn’t you?”

  Nobody replies. Nobody looks at me. Silence reigns for what feels like hours.

  “Oh my gods.” I laugh, bitterly at first. It verges into hysteria. “All this time, I thought you actually . . .”

  “I came back for you,” Father murmurs, his voice muffled and broken. “When I heard of you. When I realized who Atalanta must be. Blonde hair, gray eyes, found by hunters in the woods past the Arkadian mountains. I came back for you.”

  Just like that, the gravity of the situation has flipped entirely. Everything about Arkadia turns inside out. I shove my chair back and leap to my feet. It’s a good thing the knife is still out on the track. “You shouldn’t have.”

  I push the carved wooden chair over, and it clatters onto the stone floor with a crash. I look one last time at my father, but he says nothing. No apology. No explanation. I storm up the stairs. Kahina’s voice, bright with anger, bounces off the marble.

  “What have you done?” she spits at him.

  “Oh, don’t you start with me.”

  “You left her?”

  Curiosity wins me over, and I duck behind my doorway—not far enough back that I still can’t hear.

  “Clymene . . . we tried for years to have a child. And by the time she actually got pregnant, I had made so many mistakes of my own.” My blood freezes. Does he mean Phelix? “Her mother was”—he shakes his head once—“so much like her daughter, it turns out. I never should have left Atalanta. But it was nearly eighteen years ago, Kahina,” he says, as if that makes it excusable. “And it’s in the past. It changes nothing of our situation now. Thank the gods for that crowd’s disturbing taste in entertainment. But all the suitors lined up to race her have backed down. They prefer to watch. The only one willing to at the moment was some young man from Corinth. Not even a prince.”

  I want to run back in time, before everything became an impossible knot. Kahina and I have woven into each other. Now, no string can be pulled without tightening another. Hippomenes wants to race me, knowing full well it will mean certain death. I grit my teeth.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” I hear Kahina say, not particularly politely. The harshness in each syllable clashes through the hall. She clambers up the stairs, and relief washes over me.

  She walks quickly through my door without bothering to knock. We stare at each other, and there are no right words to say. Suddenly, the truth slams into me. I was always left. Always abandoned. My breathing resounds through the entire room with the fragile quickness of someone trying to stop a flood of tears. Kahina reaches out and traces my arm. Her skin is warm and familiar.

  “Kahina—”

  “It’s okay,” she whispers.

  “I’m sorry.” I finally plunge off the cliff I’ve been avoiding so long, and burst into tears. “I was so angry . . . he would have hurt you. He hurt me.” I pray to all the gods that she doesn’t hate me. “I’m so sick of this,” I gasp. “I’m so tired.”

  She leads me to the edge of my bed and nods to it. “Then sleep.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll be here,” she promises. “It’s going to be okay.”

  She’s true to her word. It takes time, but my breathing comes slow and steady. I feel her hand gently smooth my hair, and I sink into oblivion.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Kahina

  The halls are empty and silent again. I don’t know where Iasus and Nora have gone to, but I’m glad I don’t have to face them again. I heave open the front doors, surprised at how golden the light has turned already. I was gone far longer than I realized.

  Nikoleta and Isidora wait just at the foot of the stairs. Their arms are crossed, but their eyes are wide with worry. I bound down to them. “Is she okay?” Isidora demands.

  “She’s sleeping,” I say.

  Nikoleta sighs, running a hand through her thick hair. “All the suitors pulled out their names. They won’t race her anymore.”

  “All but one,” I mutter. “Hippomenes.”

  They look to me. Their packs are still slung across their shoulders. We could leave right now.

  “That’s odd,” Isidora says. Her brows furrow so intensely, they seem to merge into one. “It means certain death. He knows that, right?’

  “He knows the gods are on his side,” I say. I slap a hand across my mouth.

  “You spoke with him?” Isidora asks cautiously.

  “I, uh,” I falter. “No.”

  “Then how—”

  “Not important,” Nikoleta interjects, though she looks like she thinks it’s extremely important. She meets my gaze with an underlying threat. It’s a clear we’ll talk later. “We need to leave.”

  “What?” I ask, incredulous. “Are you serious? After what just happened?

  “Especially after what just happened,” she snaps.

  “No!” I shout. Isidora’s eyebrows jump, but she says nothing to defend either me or Nikoleta. “I can’t just leave her like this!”

  “That’s funny,” Nikoleta says icily. “A couple months ago, you would have said quite the opposite.”

  My face burns. I can’t believe she’s doing this to me now—I can’t believe she’s saying this at all. “Nikoleta . . .”

  She grimaces, and Isidora stares
at her feet. “I’m sorry,” Nikoleta murmurs. “But I wouldn’t ask this of you if I didn’t feel it was important.”

  “I’m sorry too,” I whisper.

  They stare at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I say again. “I just can’t.”

  “Kahin—”

  I turn from them and pray they won’t follow. Though my legs still scream with soreness, I break into a run for the mountains. I can’t be here. But I can’t leave.

  I know where I need to go.

  It’s even greener than I imagined it could be. My chest rattles from the steep walk up without a horse, and I drop to my knees, easing myself down until I’m sitting on the thick grass. I spread my hands through it and look up to the fading sunlight fighting through the canopy of oak and olive trees. It’s almost enough to ground me, enough to slow my racing mind.

  Being up here without Atalanta or Phelix is strange. It’s like no time at all has passed since I stood here in autumn, staring through the tree line into an unknown polis below. This place is just as beautiful—all overgrown and bursting with leaves and color. The view of Arkadia is just as dazzling as it was when I first saw it: rolling fields, sloping hills, and the cluster of white buildings nestled together between the soaring mountains.

  Still, I wish they were here with me. I bite my lip hard, staring down at Arkadia. Why did Artemis send me here in the first place? Did she know about Atalanta’s heritage?

  I came up here just to think—to figure out if I could leave Arkadia, if I could go back to the girl I was before Atalanta. Maybe even to go back to the girl I was before Delphi, if I could find Corinth.

  A twig snaps behind me. I leap to my feet, planting my back against the nearest tree trunk. It’s Atalanta. She does little to slow my racing heart.

  “Oh,” I breathe. She must have stepped on the twig on purpose, to let me know she was coming. She never makes noise if she doesn’t have to. “Uh, hi.”

  “Hi,” she says. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. It looks especially gold in the setting sun. I make myself look back to Arkadia. “It doesn’t really mean anything from up here, does it? The suitors, the races . . . it was always just a game.”

  “It was never just a game,” I mutter. I glance over to her. “How did you know I was up here?”

  “My massive intuition,” she says. “Also, Phelix told me.”

  I manage to smile. He must have seen me run past the stables on my way up here. “Did you tell him? About why you did it?”

  Her face grows even more haggard. She walks closer to me, and looks down at the valley below. “Yeah. He took it . . . okay, I guess. I don’t think he’s mad, but he—I don’t know.”

  “He loves you,” I tell her. “And that’s a big job.” She narrows her eyes at me. I raise my hands defensively. “But not a bad one.”

  I swallow roughly. I can’t believe I just said that. Thankfully, Atalanta clears her throat and looks away from me again. “Tomorrow I’m racing—”

  “Hippomenes. I know.”

  Her eyes stay locked on her home below. “I swear I’ll gut him,” she promises. Atalanta’s voice is low and gravelly, almost scary.

  “You’d better,” I say, trying to make my tone light, even though I feel anything but.

  I wait for her to laugh, or even smile—but her face grows even tighter. The sun’s orange glow washes all over her face. “You should still leave, Kahina,” she says gently. “Apollo knows you’re here. He has more servants than just Hippomenes.”

  Her voice sounds defeated.

  “We—we can talk about that after tomorrow,” I rush.

  “No,” she insists. “I’m serious. There’s no escape for you here. Do you think I could live with myself if something happened to you in Arkadia? Or—or anywhere, for that matter?”

  “I can’t, Atalanta.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t? Just go back to Lady Artemis’s huntresses. She can protect you there. You’ll be safe. Please.” Her eyes stay focused on the horizon the whole time.

  “I can’t go back,” I say. My heart feels stretched and compressed at once.

  “Of course you can go back! That’s the whole reason Nikoleta and Isidora are here.”

  “You don’t understand,” I groan. I push myself off the tree I’ve been leaning against. My mind is a tumble of incoherent thoughts and wants and fears. I make myself stand still. “Even if I wanted to, Atalanta, I would never be allowed to return.”

  “She asked for you back—”

  “And she requires obedience of all her huntresses. But the Lady has another equally important rule, Atalanta. So, I can’t.”

  Atalanta turns to me angrily. “What do you mean?” Her eyes are wild and unhinged, and it’s such a relief to see them so full after the emptiness of this morning. “Why, Kahina?”

  I grab her shoulders. I want to shake her until this stupid, dense, clueless girl gets it.

  But I don’t.

  I kiss her.

  She gasps against my mouth, then shoves me away so hard I nearly stumble back. Her breaths come rapid and deep, small bursts that stab into me. “Are you sure?” she whispers. Her voice is just as fast, rhythmic and damning.

  I nod unsteadily. She nods once. And with that, my back is slammed tight against the sturdy oak tree behind me, and her lips meet mine. I grab at the back of her neck, pulling her close. This. This is the answer to every question, every hesitation and every inexplicable pull I’ve felt here. It’s all my intuition, fully realized.

  Her hands slide around my waist, grounding me here—to her. I’ve never been kissed before, and I doubt she has either. Lady Artemis would exile me permanently on the spot if she could see the way Atalanta holds me to her, the way my mouth fits against hers like we were crafted for each other.

  So many thoughts rush to my mind, but she holds them at bay with her lips. My fingers slide through her braid, untangling it until her hair is soft and flowing down her shoulders. Her hands trace up and down my body, and I gasp for breath when I can. This is all too much, and I love every bit of it.

  “Kahina,” she breathes against my neck. Warmth seeps through me. I pull her mouth to mine again—I will never have enough.

  We stay well past nightfall. I know Nikoleta and Isidora will probably kill me on sight, but eventually we make our way down the mountain, lips sore and smiling all the way. The fields stretch far and long once the ground levels out, but we don’t mind the trek. We don’t say much; we don’t need to.

  We just need to survive tomorrow morning. Atalanta’s already made me swear to stay away from the track while she races Hippomenes. I don’t argue. If I never see him again, it will be too soon.

  The sky is strewn with a few thin clouds, which take on the light of the moon and stars. Atalanta reaches for my hand, and I squeeze it. Only now do I really believe the words I’d told her this morning—it’s going to be okay.

  Iasus is sitting alone at the table when we walk inside the palace. I drop her hand immediately. A single torch burns on the wall beside him, casting shadows over his already-tired face. He stands once when he sees us, and walks back to his room without a word. Atalanta’s jaw tightens, but she nods up to her room, and I follow. I feel bad for not checking in with Isidora or Nikoleta, but I know it will have to wait for the morning. A lot of things will have to wait for the morning. A flurry of nerves erupt in my stomach when the door to her suite closes behind us. This is uncharted territory for us both.

  But then she gives me a small, raw smile. I exhale, and smile back, and then we’re both laughing. I yank off my sandals and take down my hair as she washes her face at the basin.

  When she eases herself into the bed, I don’t have to ask to claim the spot beside her. I lower myself onto the pallet, pulling the covers over us both. The air is charged between us, and we both subconsciously—okay,
very consciously—lean into each other. I tuck myself into the curve of her neck, throwing an arm across her waist. She traces patterns on my back, and neither of us speak aloud our fears of tomorrow. I close my eyes tight and press myself into her.

  I think, let this be forever.

  This time, I wake as Atalanta rises. She sees me open my eyes and leans over in the pale light. She kisses me once and promises to be back soon. I close my eyes again, letting the pallet carry the weight of my body. I think I even smile.

  But when I hear her footsteps leave the room and the light glows steadily brighter behind my eyelids, my body makes up my mind for me. I’m awake now, for better or worse. The nerves and fears come back full force, and Atalanta isn’t here to help me. I breathe in and out three times, then push myself onto my feet. I get ready as soon as I can, splashing water onto my face and tugging my sandals on.

  I’m not going to stay alone in this room. I’ll hide out somewhere else: the stables, or maybe the mountains if the horses seem up to it.

  I’m still careful and cautious as I make my way to the stables, even though I figure Hippomenes must already be at the track warming up. All the other suitors were there before sun-up, at least. The house and fields are empty. Everyone in Arkadia must want to see if Atalanta will make killing a pattern.

  The stable doors are cracked open. Phelix must not have left yet. I quicken my pace, hoping that maybe I can catch him and check up on him. I slow when I hear voices I know all too well. I can’t tell what they’re saying, and I don’t care. I toss aside the doors and stand firm.

  “Get away from him,” I snarl. Hippomenes turns slowly to face me, and I try not to break his gaze, no matter how devastating it is. Phelix stares at me. I’m not sure what he’s spoken of, but I will gladly face Hippomenes to get him away from Phelix.

  He pushes Phelix aside, and walks over to me. He tilts his head, his poisonous green eyes assessing every inch of me. “You’re right,” he muses. “I believe I am taking the lionhearted girl today.” The stables are always dim, and he makes them feel even darker. He walks to the door, and half his face is covered in light. “It’s so nice to see you again, cousin. Aren’t you just the gift that keeps on giving? Apollo will reward me pleasantly for your return after I win this little race.”