“When? I never leave the island.”
“One day, this probationary period will end,” Helios said, “and I will take you around the world with me.” He mounted his chariot. “Now I must be going. The sun won’t set itself. It was an honor to meet you, Althea Lambros. Put aside your concerns, and rest well. Your sister Cleora is safe.”
I gripped the side of the chariot. “You’ve seen my sister?”
“I am the god of the sun,” Helios replied. “I see everything.”
“Except what occurs at night,” Zeus said. “Only Selene sees that.”
“Yes, well, we cannot all be my sister,” Helios replied wryly, picking up the reins.
“Can you tell me more?” I asked. “How is Cleora?”
Helios closed his eyes. When he reopened them, rings of fire glowed around his pupils. “Your sister misses you.” My throat swelled shut. Helios blinked again, and the rings of fire disappeared. “Cleora is stronger than she seems.”
I knew then that he had truly seen her. People often mistook Cleora’s cautiousness and patience for weakness, but in many ways, she was more resilient than Bronte and me.
“Goodbye, cousin,” Zeus said, slinging his arm around my shoulder. “Fly safe.”
The god of the sun cracked his whip over his steeds’ backs, and his team raced upward, leaving a trail of stardust in their wake. We watched as the chariot shrank into the sunshine until they became one.
Zeus dropped his arm from my shoulder. “I’m hungry.”
How could he think of food after that? I followed him into the cave in a daze. I could hardly process what I had seen or heard. Zeus sat on some pillows and munched on almonds while rereading Metis’s latest letter.
“I didn’t know you were betrothed,” I said.
“All Titans have arranged marriages.” A smile stretched across his lips and grew wider and wider. “Are you annoyed that I pulled you into my lap, even though I’m betrothed?”
“No.” At least, I didn’t think so. “I didn’t realize any Titan besides your mother knew you were here.”
“No one can hide from my cousins Helios, Selene, and Eos. They favor my mother over my father and have no investment in their parents’ alliances. They can be trusted.”
“And Metis?”
“Metis is a prophetess, a goddess of wisdom. I cannot hide anything from her either. She sent me a letter last year . . . or the year before, I cannot recall. In it, she told me someday soon two sisters would travel from Thessaly to see me, and she advised that I was to hear what they had to say.”
I twisted my ring, my thoughts turning back to what the oracles told me about fate and destiny and inescapable knowledge. “What else has she predicted?”
Zeus rose and took my hand. “That I would love many women in my life but only one would be my equal.”
The rings on our hands began to glow.
My pulse banged around inside my head. “As your betrothed, Metis must have been talking about herself.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought too.”
Someone behind us cleared their throat.
Theo stood in the entrance to the cave, his face expressionless. “Pardon the interruption,” he said, his voice cool. “It’s time for Zeus to begin training.”
Zeus slowly let go of my hand, skimming the back of it with his thumb. As soon as we were no longer touching, our rings went dark.
“Fascinating,” he murmured.
Theo’s lips tensed. “We’ll be continuing our swordsmanship lessons today.”
“I don’t think my cave can withstand another lesson,” Zeus said, gesturing at the tattered draperies.
“We’ll train in the forest.” Theo stepped back. “I’ll wait for you to get ready.”
I took that as my hint to leave and followed him outside. “How is his training going?” I asked.
“It’s proceeding well,” Theo said.
“That’s not the way Zeus tells it.”
“He resists me at every turn, but I expected that.” One corner of Theo’s mouth turned up drolly. “He’s mastered playing dead.”
“Yes, he practiced that trick on me this morning.” I felt the urge to explain the touch he saw between Zeus and me, but I didn’t see the sense in drawing more attention to it. After all, Zeus and I were merely friends.
“I saw the slave ship again,” Theo said.
“When?”
“Yesterday afternoon, along the northern coast. They’re definitely patrolling. Stay off the beaches, just to be safe.”
Zeus sauntered outside and gave a great yawn. Theo tossed a second sword at him, and he barely caught it in time.
“Let’s go,” Theo said.
I wished them farewell and watched as they walked off into the woods, Zeus dragging his feet. Their mixed reports about the training had raised my curiosity. I decided to trail them, far enough back that they wouldn’t see me. Their route led us into a part of the woods that I had not yet explored.
Ahead, tucked away in the trees, a cottage appeared. A garden of brightly colored flowers grew around the front door. Most of them I had seen before—hyacinths and violets and yellow crocus and wild roses. But there was a sapphire-blue violet with red-edged petals that I didn’t recognize. The rainbow of colors was alluring. I didn’t want to fall too far behind Zeus and Theo, but I was interested in whether this was the home of the woodland nymphs. I peeked through the window into a tidy room that was full of plants and had butterflies pinned to the walls.
A soft cooing sounded above me. I looked up to see a white turtledove on the edge of the rooftop. More cooing came from behind me. Perched on the branches of the trees closest to the house were more turtledoves, a whole flock of them.
My scalp prickled. Every last bird was watching me.
The turtledove on the roof dived at my head. I batted it away, but more flew at me, flapping their wings and pecking at my hair. I dashed into the forest with my hands over my head, swatting at them, but more and more chased me. Then, through the fog of white feathers, I spotted three women clothed in dark furs and animal skins soaring toward me through the trees on wings of blackest night, a red glow in their eyes.
I screamed and ran faster, turtledoves still surrounding me and limiting my sight. Suddenly, my foot hit air. I pinwheeled my arms and corrected my balance. I was at the top of a ravine. The bottom was a long way down.
The turtledoves pecked at my head and arms and shoulders. I turned, and the Erinyes flew at me. They rushed me so fast, I fell back and dropped over the edge. Staring up at the sky, I saw them halt above and watch as I plummeted.
Immediately there were arms around me, and then I slammed into the ground.
I waited for the pain, but only my head hurt, and just a little.
“Agh,” a voice moaned in my ear. It was Zeus, beneath me. “You’re heavier than you look,” he groaned.
“How did you know I needed help?”
“I followed the sound of your scream.” Zeus sat up, cradling me against him. “Are you all right?”
“I think so.” Sitting up, I felt a sore spot at the back of my head, and my finger came away damp with blood. “Ow.”
“Stars, I thought I covered all of you.” He pushed my hair aside to see the wound. “It’s not bad. Just a small cut.”
“How did you get to me so fast?”
He thumbed at himself. “God.”
Adrasteia and Theo came running. She went to Zeus. Theo came to me.
“Is anything broken?” he asked.
“I don’t think so.”
He lifted me to my feet, and my ankles wobbled. I grabbed him for support and winced. Theo reached around me and saw the blood in my hair.
“You’re hurt,” he said.
“Zeus took the brunt of my fall.”
“What happened?” he asked. “We heard you scream and came running. I’ve never seen Zeus move that fast.”
I lowered my voice so only Theo could hear me. “Did you see them
?”
“Who?”
“The Erinyes. They sent a flock of turtledoves after me and then chased me through the woods. That’s how I fell.”
Theo’s eyes went wide in alarm. “Did they say anything?”
“No.”
Zeus’s voice rose above ours, interrupting us. “Quit fussing, Adrasteia. It’s Althea you should be worried about.”
“I’m fine,” I said. The adrenaline from my fall was wearing off, and my head hurt more now, but I didn’t want to worry them.
Adrasteia plucked a white feather out of my hair. “You gave us quite the scare. Be careful in these woods. There are lots of ravines and steep areas with loose rocks.”
“I wasn’t . . .” I stopped myself, deciding not to explain. Let her think I went on a hike and got careless.
“I’ll walk you back to camp,” Theo said, more a demand than an offer.
Adrasteia placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll take her, Colonel. You and Zeus can return to your training.”
My gaze fell to her hand on him, and my jaw tightened. “I can walk back on my own.”
Theo scowled. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
I didn’t appreciate him treating me like Adrasteia was, like I was a hysterical woman who just saw a few birds and went carelessly falling into a ravine.
“Camp isn’t far,” Zeus said. “I’ll take her to the main trail, and she can go the rest of the way by herself.”
I accepted that compromise, and we set out together. Zeus blathered on about his sword practice and what it felt like to finally knock Theo to the ground while I vigilantly searched the trees. No turtledoves in sight.
I glanced behind us. Theo and Adrasteia followed at a distance. She walked awfully close to him, laughing and touching his arm.
We reached the cottage, and Zeus stopped to pick a flower from the nymphs’ garden. He chose the one I didn’t recognize, a violet with red-trimmed petals, and shoved it into his pocket.
“For your betrothed?” I inquired.
He shrugged. “Metis asked me to find it and carry it with me, so I will.”
Theo and Adrasteia had almost caught up. She touched his arm again, her laughter ringing out. What was he saying that was so damn funny?
“What do you think?” Zeus asked.
“I think she’s too familiar with him.”
Zeus put on a silly grin. “You fancy Theo.”
I knocked my shoulder into his, and he pretended to tip back on his heels and nearly fall over. I took a step to go, then paused. “Zeus? We don’t have much time. You know that, don’t you?”
His expression sobered. “I know.”
I left just as Theo and Adrasteia arrived. The trail was well worn, and when the cottage was far behind me, a single bit of light on the forest floor ahead caught my attention. I wandered up to it and stopped.
There, in the middle of the trail, was a single sunny narcissus.
My gaze darted around for any other sign of the Erinyes. Nothing. I could have crushed the flower under my heel in frustration, but I didn’t want to risk vexing them. The Erinyes wanted me to know that they were close, and they were watching.
16
After returning to camp with a bad headache, I lay down in my tent to rest. I must have drifted off, because the next thing I knew, drumming woke me, and it was dark.
Bronte threw open the tent flap. “Oh, good, you’re awake.” She held a wine chalice in one hand, and her eyes were glassy, as though it weren’t her first cup. “You missed the slaughter of the hecatomb, but the revelry is just starting. Theo was looking for you. He said you fell and hit your head?”
I rubbed my eyes. The back of my head felt tender, but the pain was manageable. “I’m all right.”
“Are you certain? I cannot recall the last time you slept in the middle of the day.”
“I just needed a little quiet. I’ll be right out.”
“I hoped you’d say that.” Bronte drank from her cup and grinned. “Oh! I remembered who Theo reminds me of.”
“Who?”
“Prometheus! Suits him, doesn’t it? After all, he is a bearish-looking man.” Bronte threw back the rest of her wine, downing it in one gulp. “I need another drink. Meet you outside?”
“Get me one too?”
“Already planned to.” She sashayed out, humming to herself.
I changed my clothes and left to join the festivities. The bonfire burned so brightly that I could see clear across camp. The flames licked the sky, flirting with the tree branches. Everyone wore white chitons, their hair down and brushed to a shine, their bodies perfumed in shiny oil. Bronte ran over and shoved a full wine chalice into my hands.
“To the moon,” she said. “May she ever shine.”
We clinked glasses and drank. The wine was watered down quite a bit, and its fruitiness verged on too sweet, but it quickly quieted my throbbing head.
Lyre, cymbal, and drum players performed while women danced around the bonfire. Bronte pranced about, her arms waving and hips swaying in time with the music. I had never seen her more carefree, or more drunk.
“Want to dance?” she asked.
“Desperately.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d danced, let alone with other people. Moving to the music was a release I didn’t know I needed until I felt myself soaring.
Bronte and I swayed and spun, laughing and drinking. She sang along wordlessly with the music, her eyes shining a little too brightly for someone who had consumed only wine.
“Did you have any opium?” I asked.
“Just the wine. Mine is gone again, and so is yours. I’ll refill our cups.”
She spun away on her toes with our cups raised over her head.
Euboea found me dancing alone and dragged me into the thicket of people. Bodies rocked all around us, spinning and shimmying and twirling. Throughout the clearing, half-naked women danced, laughed, talked, and made silly faces, played games, drank, and smoked opium. I couldn’t picture anything like this taking place in Thessaly. The women there would never be allowed to be this carefree.
The drums slowed to a sensual beat. My hips and my bottom swung and shook. The crush of the bodies was carnal and intoxicating as people writhed, their figures glowing in the light of the fire stirred by the beat of the drums. At eleven, when I came into womanhood and started my monthly bleeding, my mother had told me I would learn that the pleasures of the night belonged to women. The gods gave us the most glorious form in all existence, not to be admired by men but for the simple appreciation of living.
Women pressed together, legs linked with legs, hands on waists and backs. Euboea moved in next to me, gripping my hips. We swayed in tandem, her knee slowly sliding farther and farther up between my thighs. The heady music was provocative, and I lost myself in the rhythm, giving in to the sounds and smells and touches of the night. Every sense was heightened by the firelight and the continuous press of flesh around me.
I don’t know for how long I danced, but when Euboea’s lips brushed my ear in the barest of kisses, we were both sweaty, faces pink and bodies glistening with sweat. I was tempted to stay, but the wine was wearing off and my headache had returned.
“I’m dizzy,” I said. “I need to sit.”
Euboea let me go, her fingers outstretched, beckoning me to return. Another woman took my place, and the two of them slid against each other under a sky of shifting stars. I left the fire and the music to rest on a nearby bench.
Theo wandered toward me. “Bronte asked me to bring you this.” He handed me a cup of wine. “I helped her to your tent. She had a lot to drink.”
“Thanks for looking after her.” I drank down half my cup, seeking relief from my aching head, and now my aching ankle. I had been on my feet for too long.
“Be careful. They lace their wine with opium juice.”
That explained Bronte’s giddiness, and my dizziness.
Theo sat next to me. The velvety night swathed us intimate
ly.
“How is your head?” he asked.
“The wine helps. Where’s Zeus?”
“He wanted to come, but I told him to rest up for his training tomorrow. I’m concerned his heart still isn’t in it. The idea of the throne is abstract.” Theo stared at me intently. “Today was the bravest I’ve seen him. He heard you scream and tore off into the woods without a thought.”
“I was fortunate he got there in time.”
Theo fell quiet.
“Zeus is betrothed,” I said. “The connection between us is only friendly.” At least, it was for me.
Theo stretched his legs and crossed his ankles. We sat in silence for a while, then his gentle voice reached out to me again. “Why will you never marry?”
Normally, I wouldn’t discuss something so personal with anyone but my sisters, but I had just enough wine in me. “I’ll shrink myself for no one. The chance of finding one’s equal is rare.”
“But not impossible.”
“Maybe an equal doesn’t exist for everyone.”
Theo’s eyes softened like liquid honey. “Mine does.”
Heat built beneath my cheeks. I sipped more wine, the warmth of the spirits flowing through me. Perhaps it wasn’t entirely the wine . . .
The music took up a lively beat again, drawing more dancers into the field. Others left in pairs, escaping into tents together. I longed to find a dark corner to cozy into with Theo, but not yet. I wasn’t finished dancing.
“I’m going to go back out there,” I said, ignoring my sore ankle. “You should join me.”
“I doubt the tribe would appreciate me spoiling their fun.”
“They’re too drunk and happy to pay you any mind.” I took his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Stay close to me.”
His lips slid upward. “Gladly.”
I lifted onto my toes and twirled. Theo laughed—a short, bright sound—then mimicked my twirl with his own. With his big feet and body, he looked utterly ridiculous. I swayed side to side, and he mirrored that as well, so I began to spin around and around, and he tried the same, a feeble attempt. We broke into laughter.
Wings of Fury Page 17
