“Hey,” Isidora says softly to me. “It’s going to be okay.” Her voice wavers with uncertainty, but I nod for her benefit. I focus on the sensation of my lungs folding and expanding with every breath. Atalanta is here. I can do this, certainly.
We reach a total standstill just before the city gates. Only now do I realize how doubly wrong this place is—the empty roads we’d traveled up lead to more desolate emptiness. The busiest city in Greece is completely silent. I don’t see anyone at all that could have seen us, but I know better than to trust my sight alone—Apollo could be anywhere. Following Artemis’s lead, we all leap down from our horses. She snaps her fingers again, and the horses condense into a flock of birds—the same ones we’d taken from Arkadia. They burst into simultaneous flight, and come to a rest perched on an olive tree growing precariously into the side of the mountain.
The ground is so uneven here, and one misstep means certain death. The elevation makes it hard to breathe, but I force myself to stay calm. I’ll be no help to anyone if I succumb to panic.
“Back again,” Nikoleta mutters. I doubt she means the words harshly, but they still sting me. We all examine our surroundings, and they reach for their bows. I don’t have one, so I palm my knives just to feel safer.
Artemis starts striding up toward the center of the city—the temple of Apollo—without pausing for us. There’s nothing I want less than to follow her, but I make my legs obey. “My brother has got to learn to stop messing with me,” she mutters.
I feel that’s an understatement, but I do my best to keep pace with the others. I want to ask if they have a battle plan or even a remote course of action, but Artemis looks completely confident. I glance to Phelix, and he gives me a solemn nod. At least I know my role. My teeth chatter nervously, and I clench my knives to remind myself that I am not pitiful.
These knives have impaled the Calydonian Boar and Zosimos. And they are not finished just yet. I put my faith in the goddess leading us back toward the place that kept me captive, and I allow no room for fear.
Delphi opens up before us, the midday light blinding off all the temples. This is a city of ghosts. I see myself reflected in every marble arch and polished pillar.
“Are you sure you’re—” Nikoleta starts. She takes an uneasy breath, then lets it go. “No. You’re ready.”
I glance over to her. “It would hardly matter if I weren’t. But yes, I think I am. Are you?”
She smiles without humor. “I was born for this.”
I wonder which way her father, Ares, wants this battle to go. Perhaps, with his daughter on our side, he’ll help. But I put no faith in a god driven by bloodshed. We keep walking, the eight girls and their goddess-leader, until the temple of Apollo grows in height and width. It’s even bigger than I remembered. How many girls did it hold? How many does it hold now?
Artemis raises a hand to stop us when we’re about fifty yards away. A wide expanse of flat dirt spreads from us toward the darkened temple, where gleaming white pillars reach all the way to the edge of the cliff, with nothing but black space between them like the darkness among the stars.
“Oh, brother mine,” Artemis chirps, and all eight of us go tense. Nikoleta pushes herself forward, until she stands almost adjacent to the goddess. She knows she is our best fighter. Isidora and I glance at each other, and I can tell we’re both trying to act braver than we are. But I watch the temple like a hawk. Though my pulse pounds in my ears, I want to see Apollo here. He needs to pay. The hands holding my knives are steady, and I will not miss.
Just as I consider running into the temple myself, Apollo strolls casually out into the light. His golden-brown hair is tousled and longer than it’d been when I saw him last. And flanking either side of him are two enormous dogs—no, not dogs. Lions. One male, one female. I’ve never seen one in real life. Paintings and tapestries do little to capture the raw, primal strength rippling through every muscle. Their golden coats match Apollo’s hair precisely, and though they stay firmly behind the god, the huntresses are still wary.
“Sister!” Apollo exclaims. “Welcome to Delphi. It’s been a while since our last incident, no?”
She grits her teeth. “Let Atalanta go.”
“Atalanta?” Apollo’s eyebrows raise in mock-surprise. His eyes are the exact same shade as his sister’s. “I’m afraid I don’t see an Atalanta here.”
“Don’t play with me,” Artemis growls. She jabs an angry finger at the female lion. “Don’t you think I know nature magic when I see it?”
“Oh my gods,” Isidora mutters. All the hair on the back of my neck stands straight up. He can’t mean . . .
Before I can consider it further, Apollo’s gaze flicks straight to me. My stomach sinks. “Is that Kahina?” Apollo asks, voice bright. Everyone turns to me. The god turns to the male lion, and stage-whispers, “Well. It really is just like you swore it would be.”
I frown, but Apollo takes another stride closer to us. I want to throw the knives right now, but I keep my hands at my side. The humor in his voice is gone. “Thank you for being so quick to answer my call. I see you’re confused.”
My eyes linger on his lions. Something’s very, very wrong. Artemis keeps walking forward, every step longer than her last, until she’s just feet away from Apollo.
“How dare you enter my realm of magic? The wild is mine. I could simply change them back.”
“In Delphi?” Apollo suppresses a laugh. “I’d love to see you try.”
My mind reels. Atalanta is . . . the lioness? Does that mean Hippomenes is the other one? I stagger backward, despite myself. Artemis grits her teeth, but I think we all know he’s right. There are limits to magic, and if our slowed pace the closer we got to Delphi is any indication, I’m afraid Apollo has the upper hand. It is his city, after all. This city of ghosts is all his.
“What do you want, Artemis?” He throws up his hands in exasperation. “You know, even if she were able, your lionhearted girl is not the type of girl you seek for your Hunt. She’s quite preoccupied with your banished huntress, I’m afraid. Or, rather, my escaped oracle.”
Artemis goes silent. She opens her mouth, then shuts it. I see a silent war wage within her head, and she finally turns to me, her lips slightly parted. She was too late to save me, she must realize. I’ve only ever been his.
I grip my knives harder. No. I am not his. “I’m sure you understand, Kahina. I can’t have that type of power just strolling around Greece.” He lets out a sharp laugh, and his face descends into a glare just as fast. “Now, tell us, O Pythia.” Apollo spreads his arms wide, as if he’s trying to take hold of the whole sky. “Will you and this little Hunt win today?”
I try desperately to keep my jaw clenched tight. I manage to stay silent for two seconds, three—I gasp, my mouth flying open. The oracle’s voice spits out the word.
“No.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Atalanta
I should be worried about a million things right now: the fact that my brother and Kahina are steps away from Apollo, that Delphi is entirely empty, and that somehow, inexplicably, my form morphed into a lioness’s.
Instead, looking at Phelix and Kahina, my mind goes still with one thought. No one ever follows me.
I see her stare at me, her face twisted up in horror—she must realize the truth. I try to speak, but my voice is gone. I buck my head, trying to tell her to leave. She needs to leave.
And then she says, “No.”
I may not trust Apollo, but his oracles always tell the truth—even if it’s in a strange form. I rake my paws across the ground. This form is clumsy, terrifying, and suffocating. I hardly know how to move it.
Apollo’s laughter echoes harshly through the city. “You’d best run along then, sister.”
“You made her say that.” Artemis glares evenly at him.
But we all know he didn’t. I
expect her to urge them back down the mountain, to abandon this empty city. I wouldn’t blame them. But she rolls her shoulders once and gives him a half-smile. Her hands grasp at her bow comfortably.
Behind Apollo, eight male priests emerge from the shadows of the temple, each wielding gleaming bronze daggers. “Excellent prediction, Kahina. You certainly have the gift.” He glances behind him, as the robed men form a single line. “Ah! Perfect. Now it looks like we’re even.”
I half-expect Artemis to order her huntresses to leave. She has no business here: not if she knows how Kahina and I feel for each other. But as I take in her ferocious stature, I realize this really isn’t about us. Something deeper runs between these siblings, and me and Kahina were always just pawns. “Even in numbers, perhaps,” Artemis says. “We’ll see about strength.”
Kahina bursts between them, her twin knives in each hand. She holds them out before her, those weapons that saved me and slew Zosimos. Those weapons that will do nothing to gods.
“Stop this,” she shouts. Her voice overflows with venomous power, and no one speaks. My body pulsates with fear. “This is about me, Apollo. Right?”
What is she doing? Phelix looks strangely calm. My spine tingles. Artemis and the huntresses frown slightly, and Apollo stays silent for a long moment. He glances down and behind himself, to where Hippomenes and I stare back through animal eyes. I’ve no idea why I’ve been transformed, much less Hippomenes.
“Of course,” he trills. He signals to his priests, and tilts his head at Kahina. “Thanks so much for reminding me.”
My heart pounds as the men encircle her. I know she’s a good fighter—not particularly strong, but always a step ahead. She gives off a convincing struggle as two of them pin her arms behind her back. Her knives clatter to the ground, collapsing into the dust. Kahina makes weak noises of protest, and the huntresses glance between her and Artemis, waiting for orders. Rage and alarm tense their muscles. But Phelix stands back, his eyes assessing the situation. His outrageous calm makes me hesitate. He’s the only thing keeping me from tearing across the distance between us and sinking my jaws into each man’s throat. Through the chaos, Kahina meets my eyes so briefly I don’t know if I imagined it. Her body writhes, but her eyes are still.
Think, Atalanta.
“A race,” Apollo proclaims, with fanfare and a smirk. He swivels around, hands splayed. He stares between me and his servant, Hippomenes. “But oh! Even better.” Apollo cuts himself off, his eyes brightening with an idea. He flicks his fingers together once, and the world rips itself from me for an instant, then slams back into me harshly. I nearly sob with relief at the familiarity of my own limbs, back again, along with my dirt and blood-stained tunic. I stand on wobbly legs.
“The lionhearted girl,” Apollo croons. “Let’s see if you really are as fast as you claim. One last time.” He gestures to Hippomenes—as a lion, he’s still several feet shorter than me, but he has four muscled legs and claws sharper than any knife I’ve seen. “And in keeping with the wonderful tradition you started, Atalanta, there will be one victor. One survivor.”
For a moment, I wish I were back in lioness form. I’m the fastest girl—the fastest person—in Greece. But against a lion? I start to shake my head, and Apollo sighs. He beckons toward the men holding Kahina, and they pick up one of her knives, placing it right against her throat. She grits her teeth, and stares at me evenly. My mind reels, but she’s not reacting as she should. No fear taints her solid gaze. I frown at her, trying desperately to think.
“Brother,” Artemis warns.
Phelix slowly moves closer to Kahina, casually enough that it doesn’t draw any extra attention.
“It’s all right, Lady Artemis,” I make myself say. I have to trust that Kahina and Phelix have a plan. I stare at Apollo, and he arches his eyebrows in surprise. I close my eyes, inhale once. If I’m wrong, I’ll never forgive myself. Hippomenes lets loose a low growl, and I shiver. Apollo smiles, beckoning to a stretch of sloping ground dotted with soaring pines and rocks.
“To the top of the hill and back again.”
None of this makes sense. Why does Apollo need me to race Hippomenes? Why is Kahina so calm? Her eyes—that almost-confident, steady stream of curiosity—bring me straight back to the night she invented this game. She knew, even then, that I could never refuse a race. I would never back down from a challenge, because I had to be the best. This would be the perfect way to kill me—if this was then. I stare at Apollo warily, but slowly walk to where he indicates. Hippomenes follows, and he stares up at me, teeth bared. My stomach curdles—those green eyes are still his. The sound of Meleager’s body crashing into the earth shatters through my mind, and I swallow hard.
I face forward. I have to time this exactly right.
“The legend herself,” Apollo murmurs. I don’t look at him. I steady my breathing and focus on what matters. I clench my fists as he raises his hand. He lowers it fast, his arm nothing more than a streak. Hippomenes’s four legs burst into marvelous motion—just like I’d hoped. I turn quickly to Apollo, before Hippomenes realizes he runs alone.
“Here’s the thing,” I say. “I’m done running.”
For half a second, Apollo freezes. In that time, Hippomenes reverses course, and I launch myself to where Kahina is. She kicks wildly at her captors, who kick back just as hard, but they make no move to kill her—she is prized by Apollo, after all. Kahina grips the wrist of the one holding her knife and yanks the blade from his grasp. Phelix sneaks behind them, tearing them off of her with a ferocity I hadn’t known him to have. Kahina kneels to retrieve her second knife, and locks eyes with me. This time, I know what she means. With her right hand, she puts her whole body into a tight, clean throw. The knife arcs through the air, exactly as it did so long ago in the woods of Calydon. Only now, I catch it.
It’s not much against a god and his men, but I’ll make do. Artemis wastes no time in setting her forces loose. She bolts forward, notching an arrow in her bow faster than thought. She fires it with power and ease, but Apollo easily ducks it. I blink rapidly, not sure where to go first. The priests are walking toward the rest of us, blades glinting. Nikoleta takes the offensive against the robed men. The god stalks toward Kahina with deadly speed and intent. That’s enough to make my decision for me. Opposite me, I see Isidora notch an arrow. We’re both prepared to strike Apollo, but I have a sinking suspicion that our weapons will never hurt him. It can’t end so fast.
Out of the corner of my vision, Phelix reappears with one of the priest’s daggers. My heart lifts, until I see lion-Hippomenes appear, blocking his master. He tackles Phelix to the ground, claws swiping viciously. I scream.
I surge forward, but Isidora grabs my wrist hard. I can feel her pulse. “Stay back,” she hisses, her amber eyes burning with panic. The other huntresses have all taken up arms against the priests, holding them off with impressive speed and stealth. Nikoleta is undeniably the best of them, warding off the blades of three men at once.
Taking advantage of Apollo’s momentary distraction, Artemis leaps onto her brother, pummeling him with her fists until his nose drips slightly with golden ichor, the blood of the gods. But Apollo is quick to force her off of him, throwing her to the ground and notching his own bow. Artemis jumps to her feet, dodging the arrows that he sends firing again and again.
Phelix rolls underneath Hippomenes, and Kahina runs straight to them. Her knife reaches Hippomenes before she does, embedding itself in his back leg—enough to halt him, but not to kill him. Frantic panic floods my veins. I try to carve my way through the priests and huntresses to reach them. I’m not cut out for this. I was stupid to think I could beat a god. I have no idea where to go first. Isidora stays by my side, and she fires arrows into the fight when she can, though none of them seem to land true.
I glance over to the twin gods briefly to make sure they’re distracted enough. Apollo catches my eye, and rage was
hes over him. I’ll have to move fast. I sprint toward Hippomenes, ducking arrows and knives.
“Hippomenes!” I scream, which might be the stupidest decision of my life. But it gets him off of my brother, so it’s good enough for me. Lion or human, he is no less terrifying. I let myself feel the fear rush through me, but plant my feet firmly as Hippomenes stalks toward me, slow and calm. I am not alone. Kahina scrambles after her knife, fallen from his body already. Now, her eyes grow wide. I know she can tell that Apollo sees us. We’re almost out of time. She waves her knife frantically, and I understand. Phelix heaves himself up to his elbows, and I nearly stumble when I see the blood leaking from his chest.
I make myself focus on Kahina’s steady gaze, her knife in hand. I raise its twin, and Hippomenes leaps toward me, claws outstretched.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Kahina
It’s a risky shot for us both. Hippomenes thrashes in mid-air, and Atalanta looks miniscule in comparison. Sunlight burns my back. I exhale once and pull my arm back just as she does. I watch her throw her knife with all her strength, and he dodges it easily.
Just like I wanted him to.
He yanks himself to the right, where I’m already aiming my second knife. I don’t hesitate, even as fear makes my arm tremble slightly. If I miss this, I could kill Atalanta. If I miss this, I’ll be weaponless.
Then don’t miss, I tell myself.
My knife sails golden through the air and embeds itself straight into his chest. He hadn’t been expecting two blades. Hippomenes howls, crashing into the ground and clawing at his chest. The knife falls out of him and blood spills fast and slick, but I don’t look away.
Atalanta stalks around him in a slow circle. Hippomenes whines slowly, his teeth still flashing. But slowly, the lion shrinks away, leaving the bloodied, broken figure of a young man alone in the dirt. Hippomenes’s human fingers claw at the dirt, and he forces himself onto his knees, even as the blood drips from his torso. “Cousin,” he whispers.
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