by Kristie Cook
“There you go again,” she admonished herself as she always did when her mind found its way back to him. “He has a life. There’s no reason he’d be thinking of you, unless with anger and disgust. He offered everything to you and you turned your back on him.”
Fig bleated at her, surely recognizing this same diatribe Cassandra always gave herself, probably seconding her opinion or telling her to quit thinking about him.
“You’re right, Fig. There must be something else to think about,” she agreed just as they crested the hill. She sucked in a breath. “Oh! Well. Look at that.”
A village spread out from the bottom of the hill. Cassandra hadn’t noticed the usual indications—nearby fields, flocks of sheep or worn down paths—and hadn’t expected to come so close to a town. Her eyes followed the hills in the half-ring around the valley and she blew out the breath with annoyance. The only way to skirt the town at a safe distance was to turn back the way they’d come and follow the base of the hill and the next one, entering the valley on the far side. At least a day’s worth of walking and it was already afternoon.
She dropped the goat’s lead, shrugged off the bags and pouches that contained her few belongings and plopped onto the ground under a stand of cypress trees. She meant to think about what she would do next, but her mind kept wandering to the village. To the grain and olive oil she could buy to make bread. To the fresh cloth to replace her raggedy peplos. To new sandals she needed before another strap broke on hers and she was forced to go barefoot. To the marketplace she knew she should avoid but wondered how much longer she really could. There were just some things she couldn’t find in the wild and without Father or Jordan to bring them to her, she had no other options. If only she had something worth trading … and the courage to even go down that side of the hill.
Voices jerked her out of the internal debate and her head snapped in their direction. Two figures had crested the next hill over, heading down toward the town—a young boy and a man. They were too far away to hear words, just sounds floating on the air, but one of the voices almost sounded familiar. Cassandra squinted her eyes, focusing on the man. Her heart stuttered. It can’t be. I don’t know anybody, but I know him!
She knew the way his hair fell into his face, the way he held his broad shoulders, the confident stride of a warrior. But how could it be? She’d just been thinking about how wide and far the earth stretched, how she hadn’t seen a person in weeks, how she’d avoided village after village. And now, at the first town she even thought about approaching, the first person she saw besides injured soldiers was one of only two people she actually knew on this earth. One of two people she couldn’t stop thinking about.
Without a thought, she somehow had her bags loaded on her back and shoulders and Fig’s lead in her hand. Her feet moved halfway down the hill before her brain realized what she was doing. She opened her mouth to call out—
“I wouldn’t,” came a voice from behind, making her jump. And that’s the only other person I know in this world. “It’s a dangerous place down there for a woman.”
Cassandra spun around.
“Jordan,” she shrieked. Pulling Fig with her, she ran back up and into his open arms. “What are you doing here? How long have you been here and didn’t say anything? How did you even find me?”
He chuckled at all her questions, but only answered one. “We are twins. We have a special connection, no?”
She laughed into his shoulder, giving him another squeeze, not thinking about how she hadn’t felt a connection to him in years. Nor about the circumstances of the last time they saw each other.
She stepped back and drank him in with her eyes, but as she did, she noticed something different about him. And not just by sight, but by feeling. He seemed … darker, somehow. He was still blond and blue-eyed, of course, but he seemed to be shadowed. By what, she didn’t know, but she didn’t like the feel of it. She forced her next words out, sure she didn’t really want to know the answer. “Where have you been?”
Jordan’s eyes lit up brightly, like they always did when he told his stories of adventure. “I found others, Cassandra. I found where we truly belong.”
“Others? You mean—”
“Yes, like us.”
“There are really others like us?”
“Not exactly like us, but similar. You should see what they can do. They have many more abilities than we do.”
“Where are they? How did you find them?”
Jordan pressed his lips together, hesitating. “Do you remember the men I told you about? The ones you called demons?”
She gasped. “The demons?”
“No, not them. I found others, some like them and some not. But they’re not really demons. They have demon blood, just like us, but also different—”
“Of course they’re different! Because we aren’t demons. Do you really still believe that?”
“More than ever. You need to meet them, Cassandra. They’re not what you think. Father lied. They’re so much better—better than humans, better than angels, better than anything. They have powers and magick … what?”
Cassandra’s eyebrows shot up. “What? I can’t believe you’re saying this!”
Jordan grinned. “I know. It’s much to accept. But I’ve seen it myself. I’m living it. And they’re promising everything. I’ll become one of their best warriors and when I do, they say they’ll give me everything I’ve ever wanted. And they will for you, too.”
Cassandra shook her head and opened her mouth, but Jordan didn’t let her speak.
“You’re my sister. They’ll see greatness in you, too. I’ll make sure of it.” He took her hands into his. “This is the way it should be. The life we should have. We deserve more than living in the wilderness, hiding from the humans. They should be hiding from us.”
Cassandra jerked her hands from his grip. He’d spit out the word “humans” as if it tasted badly in his mouth. As if he weren’t one. She didn’t know what the demons had done to her brother, but she didn’t like this Jordan at all. She needed to hang onto him, keep him from going back.
“Jordan, you don’t really believe that, do you? I mean, you can’t really still believe that we’re … ” She had to force herself to say it. “ … that we’re demons?”
“I don’t believe. I know,” he growled. “I’ve never felt like I belong anywhere more than when I’m with them, fighting with them, part of them. It’s who we are, little sister. And they have so much to offer us—wealth, power—it’s where we belong. Come with me and see for yourself.”
Cassandra lifted her arm up, indicating the wild. “This is where we belong. In this life I’m living, just as Father had raised us, just as we’ve always lived. Why don’t you come with me?”
“This is not the life meant for us. Don’t you understand? Father lied to us.”
“Jordan! How can you say that? Father always—”
“Always thought he needed to protect us, but instead he kept us from being who we’re meant to be. He lied about almost everything. I’ve found the truth!”
Scrutinizing her brother’s face, she realized he truly believed that. Was there anything she could do to change his beliefs? She didn’t know. All she could do was try to keep him with her, away from those others.
“I don’t know what you’ve found, Jordan, but I’ve missed you so much. Please don’t go back. Stay with me.”
“Just let me show you,” he said. If she didn’t know him better, she’d have thought he actually begged her, but Jordan didn’t beg for anything.
“I’m not interested,” she said. She turned back toward Fig, who’d been busy chewing up the green buds on a bush, and the sight of the village below surprised her again. With her back to it, all her attention on her brother, she’d forgotten it was down there. Who was down there. It didn’t matter anymore. She had nothing to trade and even if she did, not in this town. As much as she’d wanted to see that other familiar face again, it wasn’t the right thing
to do. It would only renew the pain in her heart.
“I saw that,” Jordan said, his voice accusing as though she’d just committed some crime.
“What?” she asked, turning back toward him.
“That look. I saw you watching him earlier. You would have followed him if I hadn’t stopped—” Jordan cut himself off, looked at the village and then back at Cassandra. His eyes narrowed. “So that’s the real reason, isn’t it? Why you won’t come with me? You still want him, don’t you?”
Cassandra jerked back, as if he’d slapped her, just as she’d done the last time he’d accused her. The words still stung just as painfully.
“How dare you. After all this time!” Her hands itched to punch him again, but she wouldn’t let herself. She wouldn’t allow herself to live with that guilt again. She picked up her bags and Fig’s rope and pulled the goat as she stalked off, in the opposite direction of the village. She wasn’t even a quarter of the way down the hill when Jordan called after her.
“I’m sorry,” he said and she stopped in her tracks, disbelieving her own ears. Did Jordan just apologize? The man who never said sorry? “I truly am. Let me make it up to you.”
“How? Offering me money and power I don’t want?”
He stepped in front of her, but she stared at the ground. “I know you don’t want it. You’re right. This is your life. At least let me take you into the agora. If you go with me, they won’t harass you and you can collect the supplies you need.”
She looked up at him and choked back her shock. He looked sincere. He really meant it. She sighed.
“I have nothing to trade.”
Jordan glanced at the goat and back at her.
Cassandra gasped. “I’m not trading Fig!”
“Fig?” Jordan rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t have named her. She’s valuable.”
“She’s very valuable to me. She’s been my only companion since you left.” Of course, that wasn’t exactly true. Niko had stayed for nearly two months longer, but she didn’t have a problem laying the guilt on her brother. It was better than punching him. “Besides, her milk and cheese probably saved me this winter. I need her.”
Jordan grunted. “Fine. I have a few things I can trade for you.”
Cassandra glanced down at the town and pressed her lips together. “Can we go to another village?”
“The next one with a decent market is three days away. If you want me to go with you, we go to this one. Here.” He unwrapped the himation from his shoulders and draped it over her head. “This will disguise you. Just keep your head down.”
As they entered the town’s gates and passed house after house, Cassandra marveled at the structures. She’d never been this close to a real house, made of large stones and tiled roofs, some of them nearly three times as tall as Jordan. Mother had told her about growing up in a real home, with a kitchen, bedrooms and a courtyard. About how the women stayed to the kitchen or the back rooms, while her father and other men socialized in their front room. When their house burned down, killing everyone but her—only because she’d been allowed to go care for an ailing neighbor—she’d realized even a comfortable, stone home couldn’t protect you from everything. She always said love and family were much more important than a house with many rooms. Cassandra now understood. How could you feel love and the bonds of family with everyone so separated?
Realizing she’d fallen far behind Jordan, she hurried along and caught up to him just in time. They’d entered the marketplace and she didn’t want to be too far from him. She kept her head down, following him from stall to stall as he looked for the supplies she needed. They finally stopped at a stand of grain and oils and she listened carefully to how Jordan negotiated and handled the trade, just in case she ever had the courage to do this on her own. Her mouth watered the whole time for the bread she couldn’t wait to make. He handed her the goods and she stored them in one of her bags.
She looked up to follow him to the next stall, but he was no longer there. He’d already moved on. But about thirty paces away were Niko and the little boy. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, watching as he talked to a merchant standing next to a cart piled high with stones—large ones, big enough for two or three people to stand on, like those used to construct the houses. The little boy squatted next to the wheel of the cart, apparently inspecting a pebble or bug. Who was he?
The answer nearly knocked her to her knees. Niko lied to me. He’s already married. Even has a son! What had he been thinking? Was he one of those men Jordan once spoke of, who took multiple wives? Did he think she would just accept that without being forewarned? Her chest heaved.
She turned, finding Jordan on the other side of the market, talking to a blond merchant—of course he had found the only other woman in the entire agora. The woman glanced at Cassandra and flicked her hand in the air.
Then something moved in the corner of Cassandra’s eye—an unnatural movement that caught her attention. Her head jerked to the left. The top stone on the cart teetered, as if being shaken. Then it tottered … slid … gained downward momentum … right toward Niko’s little boy.
“No,” Cassandra silently screamed.
Jordan was too far away, even as fast as he was. It was up to her. Dropping Fig’s rope, she streaked to the cart, catching the stone just inches above the boy’s head, letting out an “oomph!” as she did. It rocked her on her feet, but she caught her balance, steadied herself. The boy flew to Niko’s side and stared at her with wide eyes. Niko hadn’t even turned, hadn’t even noticed that everything had almost gone terribly wrong.
She didn’t notice that it already had—for her.
“How, in the name of Zeus, did you do that?” a man bellowed from behind her. She turned, still holding the stone, to find a large man covered in dark hair and beard, staring at her. “It takes three men to move one of those and you—” His eyes bugged, as if he’d really just noticed her, not what she’d done. “You’re a woman!”
Cassandra swallowed hard. Her whole body started shaking. She glanced around for Jordan, but couldn’t see him anywhere, nor the blond merchant-woman. She lowered the stone to the ground, ducked her head and turned back toward Fig, who waited patiently, chewing her cud. A strong hand on her shoulder spun her back around.
“Who are you? Where’s your master?” the burly man demanded.
“I-I d-do not—” Her throat constricted, making her stammer. “I-I am not a s-slave.”
His eyes narrowed. Three more men came over to join him.
“Then what are you doing in the agora?” another asked. “The only women allowed here are slaves.”
Cassandra looked around again with desperation. Where is Jordan? But still, he was nowhere to be seen.
“I came with my brother,” she said.
“Your brother allowed you to come here? Where is he?” The first man looked around, then called out, “The brother of this woman must retrieve her now.”
Cassandra’s heart pounded in her chest. Her stomach squeezed and bucked and bile jumped into her mouth. Where is he? Jordan never came forth.
“You’re a liar,” one of the men said. “You’re a runaway, aren’t you? We don’t allow that here. We’ll keep you until your master comes.”
The first man grabbed her upper arm, pulling the himation off her head, and jerked her toward him.
“No! I’m not a slave. I have no master,” she cried out, struggling against his grip.
“Then I’ll be your master,” he growled.
“No, please. My brother—”
The man tightened his grip and yanked her again. “When my slaves lie to me, they receive the hardest punishment.”
“I’m not lying. He’s here!” And just as she said it, she saw Jordan standing in the shadows between two buildings, the blond woman with him. She locked eyes with him, hers begging him to help her. With a slight shake of his head and a smirk, he turned and sauntered away.
Her heart stopped cold. He was allowing this to hap
pen. Allowing her to be taken as a slave. Was that his solution so he wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore? Or his punishment for not going with him?
As the man dragged her along, past Fig, the goat nudged her hand, pushing her fingers into a fist. Could she hit this man? Hard enough to make him release her? It would draw even more attention, but she could easily escape. No one but Jordan could catch her and he had abandoned her. Again. It was her only way to escape. She tightened her fist, pulled back and just as her knuckles crashed into the man’s ribs, someone else called out.
“Wait! She’s telling the truth. She’s not a slave.”
The man released her, but not because of Niko’s words. Because of the force with which she’d hit him—he flew to the ground, landing hard on his large rump. His face turned purple with rage. Cassandra looked from her near-captor to Niko, her eyes wide with disbelief and terror. She should run, she knew. But she couldn’t release herself from Niko’s green-eyed gaze.
“How do you know?” the man growled from the ground.
Niko swallowed. He tore his eyes from hers and stared down the man. “Because she is my master.”
Chapter 8
Jordan didn’t go far—just around the building to another shadow, where he could watch as they captured his sister. Inga, the witch who’d made the stone fall, had already disappeared, waiting for him at a nearby creek. But he couldn’t leave yet, too delighted with his work, needing to see it to the end.
Except this man was about to ruin everything. Why had he ever bothered saving him from the werewolf?
“You’re not a slave, Niko. You’re a soldier,” said the man who Cassandra had punched as he struggled to rise to his feet. When he did, he lifted his chest, likely trying to make people forget a woman had knocked him down. “You just want to take her from me.”