Wonder Woman: Warbringer

by Leigh Bardugo

“What’s going to happen to me, Jason? Is someone going to betray everything I believe in and murder my friends? Is that what you’re going to protect me from?”

  “Stop being a brat.”

  She spat in his face.

  Jason recoiled. He wiped his face clean with the hem of his shirt. For a moment he was just a boy, her brother, in a dirty T-shirt and jeans. Then he spoke, and the illusion shattered.

  “Get her in the car,” he said to two soldiers standing at attention nearby. “But be cautious. You aren’t immune to her power the way I am. I don’t want you fighting among yourselves. We’ll change drivers as we travel.”

  The soldiers hauled her toward the backseat of one of the Humvees, but they paused when Jason said, “Alia, the world’s about to become a very ugly place. Everyone will need allies. You may want to think about how alone you are.”

  He was scolding her, like a kid being sent to bed without supper. She loved her brother, maybe she even understood the hurt that drove him, but she would never forgive what he had done.

  When she spoke again, she didn’t recognize her own voice. It was a low, thrumming thing, the rage within her burning like a crucible, making it something new.

  “I’m a daughter of Nemesis,” she said, “the goddess of divine retribution. You may want to think about how well I can hold a grudge.”

  “Cuff her,” said Jason as the soldiers dragged her away. “I don’t want her trying to hurt herself in some misguided attempt to save the world.”

  Sister in battle, I am shield and blade to you, she repeated to herself as the soldiers tossed her into the back of the Humvee, as they used plastic zip ties to fasten her wrists to the metal console that divided the backseat. As I breathe, your enemies will know no sanctuary.

  I’ll find a way, Diana, she swore. For you, for Theo, for Nim. While I live, your cause is mine.

  Diana could see the silver waters of the Eurotas, her own body, facedown in the river, limbs sprawled at graceless angles, drained of blood and white as bone. She made the shape of a shattered star. Nim lay a few yards away, and there was Theo, his arm hooked around a rock, as if he’d been trying to hold on to it, fingers fluttering in the current.

  She watched Pinon make her slow progress to the road, her movements sluggish, her blood-bloated tail dragging through the brush as she returned to her master. As if from a great distance, she could hear the whir of helicopter blades, and Alia shouting. She was sorry she could not go to her friend, but the emotion was a faraway thing, a thought that came and went like a memory of sorrow. Diana felt nothing. Without her body, there was nothing to hold to, nothing to keep her tied to the earth.

  So this was how it ended. This was death.

  Yes, Daughter of Earth, this is death. And rebirth.

  Diana saw her then: the Oracle, crouched by the great gray trunk of the plane tree, leaning over the waters of the spring and stirring them with one long finger, as if it were her scrying pool back on Themyscira. Was she real or just a dying vision?

  I am as real as anything, said the Oracle. Her hood slid back, revealing piercing gray eyes, a full mouth, her features framed by a golden helm. Diana had seen the Oracle in this guise when she’d first visited her, but she hadn’t realized she was looking into the face of a god.

  Athena.

  See me now as I truly am, Daughter. See us.

  The light from the water shifted, and Athena’s face was gone. She was Aphrodite with her gleaming curls; Hera in her jeweled glory; Artemis, glowing bright as the moon; veiled Hestia, who burned like an ember; Demeter in her crown of wheat; and then Athena once more. She was too beautiful. Diana wished she had eyes so she could look away.

  We made Themyscira for the Amazons that they would have sanctuary, and in the guise of the Oracle, we watch over our daughters still.

  It is time to return home, Diana, and take your true place among your sisters. You fought bravely for the innocent. You died with honor. And in your final moments, you cried out to me.

  The Oracle rose, and Diana saw her shape shift—a warrior, a wife, a woman seated at a loom, an archer with arrow drawn.

  Come, Daughter of Earth, and be reborn as your sisters once were, with all the strength that is your due. A war is coming, and you must help your people to prepare. You have earned your place among the battle-born at last.

  Battle-born. Diana had dreamed of those words, longed for them. I am an Amazon.

  Could she truly return to Themyscira? Fight side by side with her sisters in the war to come? The Council would never allow it. She’d violated the island’s most fundamental laws.

  They will never know, said the Oracle. It will be as if you never left. Come, Diana. Come home.

  Home. The images were bright in her mind. The trumpet flowers climbing the window outside of her bedroom. The palace kitchens bustling with life. The woods with their vast trees, where she and Maeve had spent long hours exploring. The northern shore with its cliffs and secret coves. The cliffs she knew better than anyone, where she’d first heard Alia’s cry for help.

  Alia. To whom she’d sworn an oath. As I breathe, your enemies will know no sanctuary. While I live, your cause is mine. That vow was unbreakable, as binding as the golden lasso.

  Diana thought of Ben, who had piloted the jet with such calm assurance, facing down assailants he knew were better armed; of Alia’s parents, who had tried to make a better world. She thought of her pinky twined with Nim’s; of Theo picking up a sword, though he had no idea how to wield it. The Amazons were her people, but these had become her people, too. She had to find a way to protect them.

  These people, these mortals—fragile, foolish, brave beyond all common sense—deserved a chance at peace. It was not too late. The sun had not yet set.

  Daughter, said Athena, we see your good heart. But this cannot be.

  Please, Diana begged. Let me remain.

  No, said the goddess, and her voice was stern.

  But from the first moment she’d met Alia, Diana had refused to do as she was told. Why start now?

  Give me another chance, she pleaded. What was she asking? What price would the gods demand? Give Theo and Nim another chance.

  This is not possible. Their moment is past.

  You are goddesses, Diana said, taking her courage in hand. You decide what’s possible.

  You bargain for the lives of mortals? A different voice this time, clear as a horn calling the hunt. Why?

  They are my soldiers, said Diana. I can’t win this battle alone.

  And these are the warriors you choose? that clear, cold voice asked, her amusement rippling like moonlight.

  Another voice spoke, sweet as a lyre. If the girl wishes to make a foolish choice, she would not be the first.

  Then if we are to bargain, said another, let us name our terms. What do you have to offer, Daughter of Earth?

  Nothing. She had nothing with which to barter for her friends’ lives. No trinkets or vows to offer, no worthy sacrifice. But that wasn’t quite true, was it? She had the gift she’d just been given. She could risk her own life, her own future.

  Think, Daughter, said the Oracle, once more the golden-helmed general. Think what you will be giving up for the sake of these mortals, these brief, impossible creatures.

  But Diana didn’t need to think anymore.

  I offer my life as an Amazon. If I fail to stop this war, if I die at Jason’s hand, I relinquish my right to return to the island.

  You would go to your true death? said the Oracle.

  Yes.

  A chorus rose: a thousand languages, the voices of a thousand goddesses, all the deities who had entrusted their daughters to the sanctuary of Themyscira, all who knew what war would bring.

  Then, abruptly, the Oracle went silent. The goddesses waged their arguments in private, and all Diana could do was wait. An age passed. A bare second.

  Athena spoke, and Diana heard both pride and caution in her voice. We will answer your entreaties. Your compatriots will
have their chance and so will you. Seek victory, and should you find it, return to your sisters as a true Amazon. But heed us, Daughter of Earth—you have bartered the last of your chances.

  Diana felt a tremor of fear at these words. The gods did not deal in favors. There was always a price.

  Here are the terms of our bargain: Should you die in the World of Man a second time, you will pass on to the Underworld as mortals do. You will never see Themyscira’s shores, or your mother or your sisters again. Athena paused. Do you understand, Diana? Your life will end. There can be no backward step. We will not intercede on your behalf. Speak not our names to plead for mercy.

  Diana thought of exiled Nessa standing on the shore, stripped of her armor, as the earth shook and the winds howled. She remembered the poet’s words: What can we say of her suffering, except that it was brief?

  Diana had made her choice with that first leap from a high cliff, with that first plunge into the sea. Her mother and her sisters had chosen to turn their backs on the World of Man, to build a new world with peace at its heart. Their work is done, thought Diana. But mine is just beginning.

  This is my fight, she told the Oracle. Let me claim it.

  A sound like thunder rent the air with a crack.

  Diana gasped for breath—the roar of the storm was the pounding of her heart, echoing in her ears as her body filled with blood, her lungs with air. Her eyes flew open. She saw gray water, reeds. She inhaled, and water flooded her nostrils. She remembered her arms, her legs, forced herself to turn over and sit up, coughing.

  The air around her seemed to snap with electricity.

  Demeter lifted her hand, and the reeds along the riverbank grew taller, sheltering them from view.

  Hera knelt beside Nim. The goddess cradled her head in her lap, straightening the angle of Nim’s neck as Aphrodite dipped a shell into the river and sprinkled its contents over Nim’s limp form. Nim’s chest began to rise. She blinked once, twice, sat up in shock, water streaming from her hair, looking around frantically, but the goddesses were gone.

  Over Theo’s wound, Hestia’s fingers dripped fire, and as the flames touched the cleft the sword had made in his side, the flesh knit together, smooth and unscarred. Artemis drew an arrow from her quiver, ghostly and glowing as if forged of moonlight. She drove it into Theo’s chest, and he twitched, gasping as his heart began to beat once more. His eyes flew open, and he scrambled backward on his hands, reaching for a weapon, seeking his attackers.

  “Diana? What the hell just happened?” said Nim. “Where’s Alia? Where’s that—that thing?”

  There was no sign of the goddesses or the Oracle, but Diana heard Athena’s words ringing in her ears: Speak not our names to plead for mercy.

  There were men headed down the hillside; they had cans of gasoline in their hands.

  Theo touched the place where his wound had been. “Did I die? Oh shit, am I a zombie?”

  “There’s no time to explain,” said Diana. “Jason has Alia.”

  Theo’s face went grim. “Then let’s go get her.”

  Diana glanced at the horizon. “And we have less than thirty minutes until the sun sets.”

  Nim nodded. “Then let’s get her quickly.”

  She’d chosen her soldiers. It was time to go to war.

  They crept into the bushes, skirting the men with the gasoline cans who had made it down to the banks of the river and were discovering there were no bodies to be found.

  “What the hell?” one of them said. “I saw Pinon finish the Amazon, and Rutkoski took care of the skinny guy.”

  “I broke that Indian kid’s neck myself,” said another.

  “Asshole,” muttered Nim.

  “So where are they?”

  “Maybe the river carried them downstream?”

  They set off, boots splashing through the shallows.

  “Come on,” said Diana. “We won’t have long until they report back to Jason.”

  At the edge of the blacktop, they paused. Jason’s vehicles had blocked off the road, and she wondered if his forces had set up a perimeter to stop ordinary traffic. She could see men milling around two Humvees at the head of the caravan. Three armored trucks clustered closer to their hiding place, along with a third Humvee. This was the one that carried Pinon. Diana could tell from the heavy bolts that had been added to the rear doors, but she was relieved to see no sign of the creature. Hopefully, she was securely locked up and sleeping off her feast inside the vehicle. The helicopter had taken to the air and was making a wide circle over the valley.

  A group of soldiers was piling into one of the armored trucks. Through the open doors of another, she could see a mini armory of weapons and what looked like a mobile laboratory. Jason was speaking to a man seated in front of a computer, test tubes full of blood—her blood—parceled out for him to play with. The sick shame of betrayal pooled in her gut. He’d lied to her, taken her trust, and stolen the very life from her body.

  “How can he look so damn calm?” Theo said. Beneath his anger, Diana heard all the hurt and bewilderment of the moment Jason had turned on them.

  “It’s worse than that,” said Nim, nothing but disgust in her voice. “He looks satisfied.”

  She was right. The rigid tension had gone from Jason. He’d changed into a clean shirt and a combat jacket, and he wore them like cloth of gold. He looked like a king at the moment of his ascension.

  Diana curled her hand into a fist. He wasn’t a king; he was a thief. And he’d taken enough from all of them.

  “Theo,” she said, “if you had access to one of those computers, could you find a way to, I don’t know—”

  “Infiltrate Jason’s network and decimate his data stores, corrupting every bit of information he’s gathered and rendering his research worthless?”

  “Um, yes, that.”

  “Sure.”

  “That easy?” said Nim.

  Theo shrugged. “I helped build Jason’s networks and firewalls.”

  Nim whistled. “No wonder he wanted you dead.”

  Jason jumped down from the truck and headed for the front of the caravan, pausing beside the second Humvee.

  “Alia will be in there,” Diana said. “They’ll take second position on the drive in case of ambush. I can get to her.”

  “You sure?” said Theo. “Those are a lot of soldiers all juiced up on hero blood.”

  “I can get to her,” Diana repeated, hoping that was true. She would have only one chance at this. “But we need to get you to the lab truck. Jason said he had snipers in place, and I doubt he’ll have them stand down until the caravan is in motion.”

  Nim pointed to a spot near the crest of the Menelaion, then left and right at the lower ridges. “They’ll be there,” she said.

  “What do you know about snipers?” asked Theo.

  “Nothing, but I know plenty about sight lines. Those are the three spots that will give them direct views of the caravan and anyone approaching from either side of the road.”

  “That’s remarkable,” said Diana. “Can you pick out a path to follow that will get us to the lab truck without drawing their fire?”

  Nim cocked her head. “I can get us there, but not without the guys in Pinon’s Humvee seeing us.”

  “Then that’s our first stop,” said Diana. “Nim, take the lead. Let’s move.”

  They dropped into a crouch and crept along the side of the road, following Nim’s directions, using the brush and trees as cover. Nim’s zigs and zags as they approached the vehicles seemed counterintuitive to Diana, but she could admit she didn’t have Nim’s particular gift for the visual. They emerged from the brush, wriggled directly under one of the armored trucks, and then crawled along its opposite flank. From there, they slid into a wide pocket of shadow by the driver’s side of the Humvee.

  “Stay close,” she said, and yanked open the driver’s door.

  Before the stunned soldier could say a word, she’d pulled him from the vehicle and slammed him agains
t the Humvee’s side. He dropped to the pavement.

  “Hey!” said the soldier in the passenger’s seat, his hand on his radio. She slid into the car, seized the scruff of his shirt, and cracked his head against the dashboard. He slumped forward.

  Diana looked behind her. The rear of the Humvee held two large cages. Pinon lay in one, curled on her side and snoring.

  She picked up the handheld radio and slipped back out of the Humvee. Nim and Theo were rolling the driver’s unconscious body beneath the vehicle.

  “Nim,” said Diana. “Get us to the lab truck.”

  In a few quick steps, they were there. Diana threw the back doors open and leapt inside.

  The man at the computer station scrambled away, fumbling for the gun at his hip.

  Diana yanked it from its holster and held it easily out of his reach.

  He raised his hands. “Please. I’m a scientist.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” She saw his hand creeping toward a yellow panic switch and brought the butt of the pistol down on his head. “Much.”

  She waved Theo and Nim inside and shut the doors behind them.

  “Keep an eye on him,” she said. “If anyone realizes you’re here—”

  Nim snatched a semiautomatic rifle from the wall. “We’ll be ready.”

  Theo was already bent over the computer, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

  A machine was whirring at the workstation, row after row of glass test tubes filling with dark red blood, then shifting left so another row could be filled.

  “Oh hell,” said Nim. “Is that your blood?”

  Diana narrowed her eyes. She scanned the mini armory in the truck and pointed to a row of incendiary grenades. “When Theo is done, I want you to get clear, then blow this truck and the vehicle with Pinon in it. Can you do that?”

  “Yes,” said Nim.

  Her answer was a little too quick and a little too confident for Diana’s liking. “Without blowing yourselves up?”

  “Possibly,” said Theo.

  The radio crackled. “We are ready to move out. Collins, remain in position until the site has been cleared, over.” They stared at the black box. The voice sounded again. “Collins, do you copy?”