by Lori Devoti
I snapped my lips shut. The wind stopped, but the rain continued. Alcippe placed her arm over her head, like a visor blocking the moisture. Heat and hate poured from her eyes.
I realized then I could kill her. I had her off guard, had the upper hand. The thought was tempting. I even pulled in a second breath, but as I did, my gaze drifted upward, to Harmony’s window, to those stupid bottles of nail polish lining her sill.
I’d left the Amazons to make my daughter a better life, to make her a better person. If I killed Alcippe like this, what would that prove? What would it change? Alcippe would be gone, but she’d also be a martyr-brought down by evil me. She might die, but her message, “The Amazons can’t change,” would live on, even grow.
I couldn’t kill Alcippe. Not like this. I had to discredit her-show the rest of them the old ways weren’t the only ways. And there was only one way to do that.
I closed my eyes and found the switch, or faucet, whatever it was that controlled the power I held but didn’t understand. The rain stopped suddenly, as if we’d just stepped under an overhang-no gradual lessening or softening, just gone.
The Amazons scrambled in the mud, sliding and gripping each other to help themselves stand. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited. They’d remember me soon enough.
Alcippe recovered first, of course. She slogged forward, her dress sagging, revealing withered cleavage. Her sleeves clung to her arms, and her skirt wrapped around her ankles. Finally, she gave up trying to get to me and shoved her hands out, ready to call on a little magic of her own.
A wolf, translucent but deadly, appeared from nowhere. His feet splayed, his head lowered, and his ears back, he snarled at Alcippe. I blinked, not sure what I was seeing was real-but it was. When I opened my eyes, the wolf still stood there, his lips raised, revealing his gums and teeth, the ruff on his neck standing at attention.
Alcippe’s gaze shot to me, then just as quickly behind me.
Bubbe and Mother, both surprisingly dry, stepped forward, one on each side of me.
“You can’t protect her.” Alcippe flicked her attention from the wolf to my grandmother and back.
“That was not my plan.” Bubbe twitched two fingers and the wolf sat. “Melanippe can care for herself. Better than I knew.”
The sky was clear now, but the air cold. Goose bumps formed on my flesh, but by sheer force of will I stopped myself from shivering. I glanced at my grandmother, tried to read what she was thinking, but everything about her looked relaxed, unworried.
“She attacked us. Me, a high priestess.” Alcippe’s voice was strong, but her gaze darted to the wolf again and again.
I’d never seen this particular piece of magic held this long and visible to all. I’d seen the serpent, but only after immersing myself in the spell. I glanced at the other Amazons. All of them stood rigid, their stares locked on the wolf.
They all saw him. He was real.
“Call off your telios,” Alcippe ordered.
Bubbe tilted her head back and forth, studying the animal. “He’s causing no harm.” She raised her chin, her voice grew stronger. “Yet.”
Alcippe’s eyes drew together; her hands balled at her sides. “What do you want?”
“Melanippe?” Bubbe turned to me, her voice back to her normal tone, but sweeter-much sweeter. “What is it you want?”
I licked my lips, weighed my options. What did I want?
“The truth. I want the truth.”
Surprise flitted across my grandmother’s face, but was quickly gone-replaced by a smile. She looked back at Alcippe. “Not too much to ask.”
“The rite of truth,” I added.
Every eye turned to me.
It was bold, but the only choice I had-and I had nothing to hide, nothing to fear. Not anymore. Beside me, Mother stiffened. My grandmother was more subtle, but I could feel a shift in the energy surrounding her.
But when she spoke, she was calm, resolved. “The rite of truth.”
Alcippe hesitated, as I knew she would. By agreeing, she risked her life. Whoever won the battle also won the right to demand one truth of their choice. If the loser spoke a lie or refused to answer, Artemis would forfeit her life-and worse, to Alcippe anyway, that Amazon would die an outcast.
It was the worst fate she could face-and everything I wanted. The smile on my lips came from deep inside.
Alcippe saw it, recognized it. Her eyes narrowed, and her fingers straightened. She’d made the choice. She was going to accept. I widened my smile, concentrated on her lips, waited for them to open.
“I accept the challenge.” The right words, but from the wrong direction. I spun, stared at my grandmother.
“You can’t,” I responded.
“I did. I asked what you wanted. You said, and I accepted.” She held up her hand, waved, and the wolf was gone. “But inside.” She moved forward, her steps even, almost floating.
Alcippe stepped in front of her. “She challenged me.”
Bubbe shrugged. “Perhaps, but the truth she wants is mine to tell.” Then she kept moving, enigmatic and frustrating as ever.
I followed Bubbe into the gym, the other Amazons, Mother, and Alcippe filed in too. Bubbe had already taken position at the far end, near the stage. Leaving me the space by the door. Alcippe took center court. Mother and the other Amazons formed two lines flanking us. Normally there would have been a circle of Amazons surrounding us, but in the rectangular space available, the lines made more sense. Plus, the rite normally would have been performed outside-the walls of the gym more than made up for the lack of Amazons completing the customary circle.
Alcippe waved her hand. The doors slammed shut behind us. I sensed they wouldn’t open until we were through.
My grandmother stood the full length of the basketball court away. Her arms at her sides, she looked completely at peace-like she hadn’t just twisted my challenge, forced herself into the position I’d meant for Alcippe.
Why had she done it? Frustrated, I stalked forward, got to the center before hitting an invisible wall of power. I cursed and turned to face Alcippe. “This isn’t what I asked for. I didn’t challenge Bubbe. I challenged you.”
“I didn’t hear a name, only a request. A request I answered.” Bubbe didn’t even bother to look at me as she spoke, concentrated instead on folding the arms of her sleeves up past her wrists.
I wanted to scream, could feel it growing inside me. I did not want to fight Bubbe, but her cold indifference to what she had done was infuriating me, and she knew it. Damn her. She was pushing my buttons, trying to get me to forget myself.
I took a deep breath and adjusted my own sleeves, pulling them down until they brushed the top knuckle of my thumb.
The Amazons stood like stone statues beside us. No one except me seemed concerned that Bubbe had twisted the rite as she had. Fine. I’d fight my grandmother. And I’d try to beat her. Get whatever truth I could from her, even if it was just why she had stepped in to protect Alcippe.
That was certainly a question that was burning inside me.
Alcippe raised her arms, lifted the wall, and I faced my grandmother in a way I never had before. I waited, thinking the entire thing might be a put-on show, a way to make me see the light-or the light as my grandmother saw it.
As I stared at her, she looked different, old, frail. Bubbe never looked old, not really. I frowned. I couldn’t do this. I started to turn, to tell Alcippe it was over, I’d admit defeat and give up whatever truth they wanted. As I moved, color flashed from the end of the room-Bubbe moving her arms. Suddenly I was surrounded by eleven of the twelve Amazon telioses: bull, lion, stag, fish, dog, hawk, serpent, hare, leopard, boar, and bear. Each as real as the wolf outside had been, and each just as deadly.
I looked at Bubbe, surprised. I’d been the one to issue the challenge, meaning she got to choose the battle, but I hadn’t expected this.
“Never underestimate, devochka moya.” She slid her gaze to the first telios-a bull. Hereford b
y the looks of him. You never could tell with Bubbe; she liked to mix old with new. For whatever reason, I got a bull known more for burgers than fighting.
Might have been some kind of insult. The thought had barely formed before he started trotting forward, horns high and ears erect.
At three thousand pounds it didn’t matter what he was bred for, he was damn intimidating.
My bullfighting experience was pretty much limited to one rodeo I attended back in my Amazon days. And I wasn’t the one fighting him, my designated one-night stand had been-well, riding him, actually. Still, it was all the experience I had to go on.
I rubbed my palms on my jeans.
“Mel.” Mother broke ranks long enough to slide her sword across the gym floor. I watched it twirl in circles, like some crazy game spinner. Where would it stop? Whose move?
Lucky me. It was mine.
The bull lowered his head and snorted. I somersaulted across the floor, stopping next to the sword, and picked it up with both hands. It took a minute for my arms to adjust to the feel of it. It wasn’t heavy, not like some movies and fantasy novels would have you believe, but I wasn’t used to it. Swords were never my thing.
The bull seemed to sense that. He charged.
I tried to position the sword, to pierce the animal in the neck where I calculated I would do the most damage with the least effort, but my movements were awkward and I stumbled. As the creature pounded toward me, sense won out over looking good or doing things right. I deserted the sword and leapt out of his path. I could smell the sweat on his body, feel the air move as he raced past.
I let out a ragged breath, my knees crumpling beneath me.
Telios. Why telios? The rite of truth could be fought any way-with magic, hand-to-hand combat-hell, as far as I knew, two hearth-keepers could stage a bake-off. And my grandmother, who I’d thought carried at least some fondness for me, chose the Amazon telioses embodied. I was glad Artemis hadn’t had a fondness for dragons.
My breathing still labored, I pressed my fingers into the floor to keep from tumbling and looked at Bubbe. Her face was calm, almost unlined. All appearances of frailty and old age were gone.
The old fake-I should have known better. The beginnings of anger pushed me to a stand. Her gaze behind me, Bubbe twitched a brow. I turned, but too late. The bull stampeded, his head down. There was no time to dodge, no time to think. On instinct, I murmured a prayer and blew out a breath. His steps slowed, his head lowered further-as if he were pushing against a wall instead of charging across the open gym floor.
I blew harder. He slowed more until finally he seemed to lose all steam, slowed to a stop, then stood there, head hanging and his body colored dark with sweat.
I placed my hand over my heart, felt the thumping inside my chest, then picked up the sword and strode forward. Staring my grandmother in the eye, I stabbed the weapon through his neck, severing his spinal cord. The telios shimmered and vanished, back to nothingness…air. The sword clattered to the ground.
I’d felt the muscle as I’d shoved the sword into his neck, felt the heat of his body and his breath. He had been real…but now he was gone. Air…nothing but air. Only my grandmother could do that. No sooner had the thought come than the bull reappeared-just as solid and intimidating as he had been originally.
I bent to retrieve the sword and did my best to hide the sinking feeling in my core. I weighed the weapon and my options. Obviously, in my grandmother’s rule book I hadn’t bested the bull. I took a step toward him, hoping some new idea would come to me before he gored me in the stomach, but he seemed uninterested in me, frozen, in fact. I frowned and began moving in a circle, pivoting slowly on one foot to study each animal for movement.
Behind me another telios came to life. I recognized the feeling now, a kind of tingle, like something was creeping up on me-which it was.
I supposed I should have been grateful Bubbe was launching the creatures at me one at a time rather than releasing them in some kind of Amazon blood orgy but, as I turned, I saw the gaping jaws of a lion as he yawned into life. No words of thanks sprang to mind-just a few well-worn curses.
I didn’t bother reaching for the sword. I knew nothing about fighting a lion, but doubted holding a sword would provide me with much advantage.
Again Mother came to the rescue, sliding a shield and spear across the floor. I was thinking something big and loaded with bullets would be a lot more practical, but Amazons didn’t do firearms. Besides, pulling a trigger probably wouldn’t teach whatever lesson my grandmother had gone to so much trouble to relay to me.
I picked up the spear, tossed it up and down, testing its balance…muttered to myself. I was tired of having to defend myself…prove myself even to my own family.
The anger began to build again, this time with no direct focus. I was angry at all of them.
Zery was locked up and a killer was on the loose-standing in front of me, actually. I tossed the spear again, glanced at Alcippe. I’d tried playing this the Amazon way, convinced myself that would be best-and found myself caught in this trial by telios. Maybe it was time to take things back into my own hands.
I turned my grip, readied myself to throw the spear.
Chapter Twenty-three
The lion lunged. All thought of Alcippe fled. I spun, threw the spear without pausing to aim or think about the best target. To my shock, it hit home, embedded into the lion’s head. Like the bull he shimmered, then was gone. The spear fell with a clatter to the floor. I just stared at it. Again my heart pounded. My pulse jumped at my throat. My gaze shot to my grandmother. She was unmoved, unruffled.
I took a step forward. “What the-?” The lion reappeared, but like the bull, frozen. I snapped my mouth closed and searched for my next opponent. The hare, stag, and fish all came to life.
On the surface, none of these animals seemed particularly dangerous-but I knew better than to relax. I didn’t understand this game, but I knew one was under way-and I needed to learn the rules fast.
The three animals wandered around the court, seemingly unaware of my presence. I glanced at Mother, but no weapon was shoved my way. The first two had saved me from being gored or eaten, but they hadn’t won the game. Perhaps that was all she’d been doing, buying me time to figure things out. Or perhaps she was as perplexed as I was. Either way, I was on my own.
The sword was within reach. And with no better idea leaping into my mind, I picked it up and started toward the deer. He didn’t startle, just lowered his head to munch on imaginary grass, then twisted his neck to rub his antlers on the floor. I raised the sword, ready to sever his spinal cord like I’d done to the bull, but as my arm raised, he shifted-grew, until his rack was an impenetrable maze reaching from floor to ceiling. I lowered the sword anyway, felt the impact as it hit bone all through my body, but the stag didn’t disappear, didn’t even move.
I jerked the sword free from the antlers and stared at Bubbe. Like the deer, she seemed unmoved. I thought about tossing the sword to the side then, admitting defeat, but my fingers wouldn’t let go.
Damn it. I wanted to beat her; I was going to deliver everything I had.
I stalked to the fish, grabbing the spear on the way. I stabbed at him. He slithered right, then left, darting as if swimming with the current, as if my spear were inconsequential-of no threat whatsoever. I dropped it, tried to grab him with my hands. I had him or thought I did, but as my fingers closed, he slipped through, slid out of reach.
Trying to hide my growing frustration, I moved toward the hare. He was gray, his eyes like black marbles. I stayed back, waited for him to do something. He sat up on his haunches, rubbed his front paw over his nose, and studied me in return. Then he winked.
Winked. That’s when I got it-a trickster. The hare was a trickster-a lot like my grandmother. She’d set me up, known I would believe the way through this challenge was through direct battle, known Mother would throw things at me and like an idiot I would follow her lead.
I pivoted, s
trolled to center court, and sat down. I needed to think, not act. My gut always got me moving before my brain had time to weigh things. And Bubbe knew that.
I needed to gain control, needed to think.
Bubbe had called on the telios for a reason. Each had a special gift or message, but I didn’t think that was the point here. Not really. This was my grandmother’s message, and what was her favorite lesson to lecture me on?
Being an Amazon, accepting who I was.
I stood up. Around me all the telioses had come to life. I ignored them, walked past the leopard pacing to my right, stepped over the serpent that threatened to slither over my foot. Went directly to a table where Pisto had kept paper and pens for charting which Amazon was leading in what competition. I jerked the cap off a marker with my teeth, shoved up my sleeve, and started drawing.
To win you had to battle with your own weapons, define the fight for yourself.
I needed to play on my strengths. I was an artisan. This was how I had to battle.
I drew snow and a den. Mountains and trees. A spring-fed stream and a field filled with clover. I drew everything the telios needed to thrive, then one by one I approached them.
I reached for the fish first, felt the cold splash of water as my hand dipped toward him. Wiggled my fingers, let him swim toward me through my splayed digits. I wasn’t there to catch him or destroy him. I was there to free him. As he shot past my hand, for the briefest of seconds the stream I’d drawn on my arm appeared. He lunged forward. His body whipping back and forth, he went with the current until he reached the edge of the court of our defined battle zone, leapt into the air, and disappeared.
The bull let me approach, followed me to the field, put his head down, and charged out of the court. The leopard leapt into a tree, prowled along the branch until the limb misted away above the line of Amazons’ heads. The hawk soared into a mountain sky. The stag trotted into a forest. One by one all the telioses left, and it was just Bubbe and me alone in the center of the court. By her side stood the wolf. She was smiling.
