I charged forward, cutting at her flank. She reared back, then wrapped her claws around me, trapping me in a vise of talons. Her mouth opened and her teeth came at me.
A crackle and rumble rent the air.
Directly overhead, a storm stewed in an eddy of black thunderheads. Zeus stood in front of the dragon, his chest heaving, his blue eyes sharply focused. Another thunderclap clashed so loudly that I would have ducked and covered my ears on instinct if I were able to move.
Zeus threw his hands above his head, then lowered them. A lightning bolt flew down from the storm cloud and struck the sand in front of us. The dragon released me and reeled backward. I stumbled away while she tried to retreat, but she was well and truly beached.
The sky darkened all the more, immense thunderclouds shrouding the sun. Mighty gusts flew in from the sea, and with them came waves. The rising surf crashed over the dragon and pummeled the shore. The next wave grabbed the sand beneath me and dragged me into the sea.
Theo swam against the high waters and climbed onto the dragon’s ridged back. He reached for my open hand as I swept past, caught me, and heaved me up onto her with him. We pulled ourselves up to sit on her massive shoulders, high above the spiny sail.
Zeus raised his hands again. His ring burned brightly. More thunderclaps boomed, then blinding lightning zigzagged down, narrowly missing the dragon.
The beast whipped her serpentine body from side to side, trying to wriggle into the sea. Each movement threatened to toss us off. Theo and I lost our grip and slid down her left flank. I raked my fingernails down her side, searching for a perch. An arrow flew past me and sank into her side. I grabbed it with one hand and hung on.
Theo kept sliding and dropped into the sea, where he fought the currents. On shore, Bronte stood behind Zeus, her bow and arrow in hand. She shot four more arrows into the dragon’s flank, creating more perches for me to hold on to. I used them to climb up the beast’s back and straddle the nape of her neck.
The dragon bore down on Zeus, catching him in her claws and shoving him to the ground. Bronte let more shafts fly. One of her unerring arrows struck the dragon in the face, near her eye. The dragon snapped, barely missing Bronte, but she bit the bow and broke it to pieces.
I lifted the sword above my head and plunged it into the beast’s neck.
She roared and writhed. I held on as she finally squirmed back down the beach and plunged into the waters. My feet flew out behind me with the force of the dive, and the sword slid out of the dragon’s back. I kicked to the surface, where I saw her sail breach and begin to circle back.
I swam hard for shore, aiming for where the beach was shallowest, and arrived just before the dragon caught up. She couldn’t come any farther without beaching herself again.
With an outraged snarl, she dived into the deep.
I sloshed my way to shore. Theo had emerged from the water. The thunderheads began to clear, unmasking the sun, and the winds died down. Up the beach, Zeus lay face-first in the sand. Theo and I ran to him and turned him over.
Zeus grinned. “Did you see that?”
“How could we have missed it?” I huffed tiredly.
Bronte ran up the beach and caught up to us. “Good work with the sword, Althea.”
I sat back, breathless. “Not as impressive as what you did with those arrows.”
“I was easily the most impressive,” Zeus said.
“How long have you known you could summon thunder and lightning?” Theo asked.
“About as long as you have.”
“You did well, trainee.” Theo ruffled his hair, tossing sand everywhere. His eyes held something else, though, an emotion beyond pride that I couldn’t discern.
Zeus stood on wobbly legs. “I feel strange. I’m so tired. I can hardly keep my eyes open.” His words slurred, then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed.
Theo caught him before he hit the ground.
“Zeus, this is not the time to play dead,” I said, exasperated.
Theo shook him, but Zeus couldn’t be roused.
“I don’t think he’s playing dead this time,” Theo said.
“What’s wrong with him?” Bronte asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Bring him to our tent.”
Theo carried Zeus into camp. When the women and girls saw the Boy God passed out in his arms, they quieted and moved out of their path. Theo laid Zeus on my bed to check him over.
“He appears to be sleeping,” Theo said. “What he did must have taken tremendous strength. We’ll let him rest.”
“The entire tribe is waiting on word,” Bronte said. “I’ll let everyone know he’s all right.”
She left the tent.
Theo took my hand. His fingertip rubbed circles across the tender spot at the inside of my wrist. “About earlier.”
“I understand what you were trying to do. Zeus needed something to inspire him, to let go of his fear.”
“I’ve no doubt he still fears his father—we all do—but he needed to fear something more, such as losing you.” Theo shifted closer, our breaths mingling, and rested his hands on my hips. “Earlier, when you were on the high rope and almost fell . . .”
At that moment, I was more concerned about falling for Theo. The longer we were alone, and the more he touched me, the more I felt that last night’s kiss deserved an encore.
Suddenly, without warning, the back of my neck started burning. I felt for my tag. The scarred skin felt normal, yet spots danced across my vision. I swayed forward, and Theo held me closer, supporting my weight.
“What is it, Althea?”
“I feel . . . wrong.”
Shouts and calls to arms sounded outside the tent. We went to the opening and looked out. The camp was in disarray. Women were arming themselves and gathering in the main clearing. Bronte caught sight of us and called out. “We’re being invaded.”
“By whom?” I asked.
“Slave traders.”
Theo drew his sword. “Althea, stay in the tent. I suspect they aren’t here only for themselves.”
“But—”
“Stay here.”
I flinched at his tone.
“Protect Zeus,” he said more gently. His eyes displayed worry not just for the Boy God but for me too. Theo threw back the tent flap and hurried out.
The chaos of the camp evolved into organized readiness. Warriors took their stations, positioning themselves to defend their homes and families. No one wept. No one dissolved into hysterics. It was as though they knew that this day would come, that it was only a matter of time before the outside world penetrated their quiet lives.
Bronte ran by with a group of girls, hurrying them along. “I’m taking the children to the schoolhouse,” she called to me.
The girls held hands in a long line, clinging to one another. For many of them, the only man they had seen besides Zeus was Theo. I would have helped my sister move the children to safety, but I couldn’t leave Zeus.
I ducked back into the tent to look for a weapon. My spear and shield had been destroyed, and I lost the sword in the ocean. I had nothing to defend myself with. Not even a kitchen knife.
The tent flap flew open, and Adrasteia stormed in.
“Zeus, I warned you not to—” She pulled up short at the sight of him passed out on my bedroll. “Oh, my dearest boy. Althea, is he injured?”
“Sleeping deeply.”
“The thundercloud and lightning he summoned could be seen from clear across the sea. The slave traders followed it right here.”
Male voices shouted nearby. The loudest of them all froze my veins.
“Lay down your weapons!” Decimus commanded.
The tag at the back of my neck burned so deeply I winced as Adrasteia and I peered through the small slit between the tent flaps. Decimus stood in the center of the camp, fully armed in sword, helmet, breastplate, and shield. The general’s company of uniformed liege men was scattered throughout the clearing and in the
trees, so many of them I lost count. Some of them were not soldiers but were instead dressed in loose, short robes and hats with wide brims.
“Who are the men with the soldiers?” I asked.
“Slave traders. The First House’s armada isn’t permitted to come this far south. It would violate the treaty between Cronus and Oceanus. They would have needed another form of transportation to hide their presence in the southern isles.”
It was unsurprising to hear that Decimus would align with a slave trader. But how had they found us? The slave ship was already patrolling these waters before Zeus’s spectacular show in the heavens. The southern isles were vast. It could not be a coincidence that they were already nearby.
Across camp, Bronte ushered the last girl inside the schoolhouse and shut the door. Theo was nowhere in sight.
“Goddess help us, we’re surrounded,” Adrasteia breathed.
Decimus stomped around, his chest puffed out, while his liege men encircled the tribe. The warriors’ shields and spears were mighty, but not against these numbers.
Ida entered the clearing. Two liege men aimed their swords at her, threatening her to stay back. Decimus waved for them to stand down. The nymph strolled up to him and a second skinnier man with long, sun-bleached hair and a scraggly beard down to his chest. The three of them exchanged private words, then Ida pointed at the schoolhouse.
Adrasteia and I shrunk back inside.
“My sister,” she said, whispering to herself. “What are you doing?”
“Who is the second man with Ida?”
Adrasteia answered in a fainter whisper. “The slave ship captain Rastus. We acquired the newborn that Rhea used to trick Cronus, the one he thought was Zeus, from Rastus. Ida dealt with him a few more times after Stavra began bringing refugees here. As the tribe formed, everyone agreed not to allow boys on the island. We thought if it were a place just for women, no one would ever suspect that Zeus was hidden here. When the pregnant refugees gave birth to baby boys, Ida would deliver them to Rastus, but their last meeting was years ago.”
“And General Decimus?”
“I wasn’t aware they were acquainted.”
We heard screaming, so we peeked out again. Several soldiers had begun to break down the door to the schoolhouse with a battering ram. Decimus waited close by. The mothers attacked, but they didn’t even make it into the schoolyard. The liege men dispatched them with double-edged blades, merciless and unflinching in their slaughter.
They broke the door open, and Decimus stormed inside. He came out of the schoolhouse a moment later, dragging Bronte by the hair. More liege men led the girls out and shoved them to their knees in the clearing. Their weeping was agony.
The slave traders rounded up the women and began counting them and the girls as they would heads of cattle. Sometimes auctions of captives like these were held in Othrys. My mother had never let me attend one. She said it would desensitize me to the priceless value of a soul.
Decimus hauled Bronte into the middle of the camp, near Rastus and Ida, and threw her to the ground. Then he grabbed her again, by the back of the head, and raised his sword to her throat.
“Where is Althea?” he bellowed. “Where is Cronus’s child?”
Bronte spit in his face. He slammed the hilt of his sword over her head, and she crumpled.
My heart hammered, and my mind swam with fears, heavy and cloudy and so, so cold.
“Althea Lambros!” Decimus bellowed. “I know you’re out there!”
This was it, my moment to step forward and fulfill my oath. But how could I trade myself for Bronte when I was supposed to offer myself in exchange for Cleora? I could not do both. Again, I could only save one of my sisters.
“Come out, Althea! Don’t make me tear this camp apart to find you!”
Something pulled at me, drawing me toward him, as though my mind had no will of its own. I moved for the opening of the tent, but Adrasteia tugged me back.
“I’ll go,” she said.
“But my sister—”
“I need to speak to Ida.”
Before I could argue further, Adrasteia stepped outside and strode directly over to her sister. Ida stood beside Decimus, her hands on her knives.
“What have you done?” Adrasteia asked her.
“I’ve done what should have been done years ago when Rhea asked us to give up our lives for the gods.”
“You agreed readily at the time. You were so loyal, she even named the mountain she hid her son on after you, sister. Rhea did that to show her appreciation for your sacrifice.”
“Where is her support now? I wasted fifteen years investing in a child’s future while giving up my own. The God of Gods would have found Zeus eventually. What do you think he would have done when he discovered we betrayed him? I’ve saved us.”
“You’ve doomed the world.” Adrasteia approached her sister, her steps cautious.
“The Almighty will forgive us.”
“But how can you forgive yourself?”
Ida looked from the warriors held at sword point to the girls crying softly to my unconscious sister and then back to her own sister. “A war is coming, Adrasteia. We must be on the winning side.”
“There is no winning. You will always be just a woman to the Almighty.”
Ida drew a knife from her belt—the adamant scythe. “Someone was going to claim the praise for turning Zeus over to Cronus. We deserve that glory.”
Adrasteia stepped right up to her sister, unconcerned as the liege men nearby reached for their swords. “Betrayal never breeds glory.”
“You promised that if we stayed on the island, someday we would be free,” Ida spit back. “Yet we’re still the Titans’ slaves.”
Adrasteia extended a hand to Ida. “Sister, please. Don’t you remember? We accepted a posting here so we could stay together.”
Ida’s jaw softened a little. “Join us, Adrasteia. Let’s finally be free.”
“What good is it to stay together when one of us has lost her way?” Adrasteia cupped her sister’s face. “I want your happiness.”
“And I want yours, which is why this will be swift.”
Ida slid her scythe into Adrasteia’s side.
“No!” Euboea cried.
A guard struck her, and she spun to the ground, gripping her cheek.
Adrasteia wilted, gaping up at her sister. The two nymphs embraced as the evergreen silk of Adrasteia’s robe bloomed scarlet. Ida gently lowered her to the ground, where she went limp, her eyes washed blank.
Ida lifted her hand, and there, on the inside of her wrist, appeared another rose.
Women and girls wept. My head spun, my breaths too shallow, my heartbeat sprinting.
Bronte stirred awake and pushed to her knees.
Decimus put the blade to her throat again. “Althea, your sister is next! Don’t make me search the tents!”
I panted, cold yet feverish. The part of me that knew I shouldn’t heed him was overruled by a louder shriek in my head telling me I must. I must. I started to leave the tent, but hands gripped me from behind and pulled me back.
Theo held me against his chest. He had slipped in through the back of the tent while I was preoccupied with the scene out the front. “I won’t let you go to him, Althea.”
“I have to.”
“Decimus won’t kill your sister.”
“You don’t understand. I have to go to him.”
Theo gave me a perplexed look. “You are Althea Lambros. You don’t have to do anything a man tells you to do.”
I fought the frantic desire to go to Bronte. Sweat trickled down my back and my joints quivered.
Theo bundled me closer in his arms. “Bronte will be all right.”
“How can you be certain?”
“She’s a valuable hostage. Decimus could use her against you, or against Cleora, but only if she’s alive.” Theo lessened his hold on me and rubbed the small of my back. “I’m going to let go now. Stay with me. Do you hear?”
<
br /> I heard him, but I could not promise that I would do as he asked.
“Althea, are you listening? You’re no good to Bronte or Cleora if you’re captured. We need to get Zeus to safety. You saw what he’s capable of. The oracles were right. He’s our only hope.”
Theo let me go, and he went to Zeus. Slinging the boy’s arm over his shoulder, he lifted the Titan out of bed with a grunt.
“Althea!” Decimus cried. “Come to me now!”
Theo held my gaze. “Let’s go. I’ve readied the boat.”
Conflicting desires tore at me. Zeus could never be more valuable to me than Bronte, yet how could I deny his invaluable worth to the rest of the world? For a moment, I considered trading Zeus for Bronte’s and my freedom, but Decimus would never agree. He was here for me.
“Althea,” Theo whispered. “Trust me.”
I did trust him. It was myself I didn’t trust. The need to obey Decimus’s summons quivered inside me like a starved mutt crouched on the floor waiting for scraps from its master. This was a symptom of the curse. It must be. His hold on me made it impossible to think straight, to know with certainty what was wrong and what was right.
Theo crept out of the back of the tent, leading the way. I forced myself to follow. My string ring began to glow, as did Zeus’s. That reassurance, from whatever cosmic force had brought us together, compelled me. Protecting Zeus was the right choice. To consider otherwise would be the end of us all.
A soldier lay sprawled on the ground with a gaping, bloody wound in his chest. We passed the dead man and came upon another. Theo had left a trail of bodies all the way back from the beach.
The boat had been dragged to the water. Theo loaded Zeus in, then I heard shouting behind us.
“Althea!”
Decimus’s booming voice halted me. Something slithered around my neck, like a chain tethering me to him. I turned to go back, my tag burning so badly that tears formed in my eyes.
“Althea,” Theo said, grasping me by the arms, “stay with me.”
But my body had a will of its own. I started to walk away from the boat, away from Zeus, away from Theo.
Wings of Fury Page 20
