by Lori Devoti
She raised her hand and the wolf disappeared, answering whether the animal was real or magic. But she had made her point, whatever had happened to her back at the camp wasn’t affecting her now.
She tapped her temple again. “Did you not feel it? The probing? Someone tried to get inside, but I hold that key close. There is too much hidden in here to let go easily.” She laughed. I wanted to laugh with her, but I couldn’t; what she had said was too chilling.
“You felt someone in your mind?” I asked.
She nodded. “Here”—she touched her temple—“but not here.” She placed her fingers over her heart. “That was her mistake. The brain holds knowledge, but the heart . . . that is what makes an Amazon strong.”
My mind whirled. The thoughts I’d had while staring down Thea . . . the doubts . . . they had come from nowhere.
“No priestess has such skill. We don’t poke where we do not belong,” Bubbe added.
Cleo had already shared her story, or what she remembered, with us. Like Kale, that was very little. But she repeated it now.
“I was in the barn. Thea and Areto walked in. They knew something, I could tell. I acted casual, positioning myself to fight, but then”—she frowned—“I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to do anything. I’d been feeling lethargic all day, since breakfast, but this was worse. It scared me; I forced myself to push through, but it was like swimming through oil. I bent for a broom, to use as a staff, but I was shaky, couldn’t concentrate on more than staying upright. Then someone hit me from behind.
“Falling was almost a relief. Losing myself to the darkness was too.” She looked down and shook her head. “When I woke up, I was under the hay. I don’t know if I could have escaped if I’d wanted to, but the fact was, I didn’t want to. I was happy just to lie there staring at the darkness.” She walked to the edge of the woods. Her back tense, she didn’t move, just stared into the shadows of the forest.
I looked at Kale. “Did you see Padia there?”
She picked up one of the pieces of wood Mel was carving into knife handles. “I don’t know.” She dropped the wood and looked back at me. “I don’t remember what she looks like. I’ve tried to remember, but whenever I try to recall her, I get a blank. I can’t even tell you what her hair color is or how tall she is.”
“How long were you on the council together? How many times did you meet? If you saw her, you’d know, right?”
She ran her hands down her shorts. She whispered, “Twenty years, hundreds of times. Would I remember her now? I don’t know, but I don’t think I would.”
I licked my lips. She had to be wrong.
I looked at Bubbe. “Could Padia do that? Could she wipe Kale’s memory?”
The old priestess pursed her lips. “No.”
A bit of tension left my shoulders. Whatever had happened to the two warriors, to me . . . to Bubbe . . . it wasn’t what we were thinking. There was some other explanation, some simple one that didn’t involve someone probing around inside our heads.
“But then, she couldn’t convince Kale to kill those humans, make her forget what she’d done, make my daughter lose her will to fight or try to tip her toe into my head. She couldn’t do any of those things. No one could, but someone did.”
I’d been worried about recognizing the enemy; now I learned she might be inside me . . . or could get there.
Silence settled over us.
Mel broke it. “What about Tess? Was she at the camp and we missed her? We missed Mother.”
I answered, “Thea claimed she hadn’t seen Tess or the baby.” Thea’s other comments, her suggestion that perhaps Tess had taken on the job I’d refused, nagged at me.
“Thea lies.” Lao stood on the porch holding a tray of sandwiches.
I acknowledged her comment with a nod. I didn’t trust Thea either. I couldn’t even be certain Tess wasn’t hidden in the barn. Despite the mess we had made, there were still plenty of bales left stacked.
“She could have been in the house,” Kale suggested.
“Or hidden somewhere else on the property,” Mel added.
Both possibilities I’d already considered. I stared at the pile of knives Mel and I had repaired. I had two missions now: save Tess and Andres and stop Padia.
Unless what Thea suggested was true. Unless Tess was on the other side . . . unless she hadn’t been taken, but had taken Andres all by herself.
An owl called from the distance. I searched the trees for him. Funny how I’d lived in these woods for over a decade and I’d never seen as many owls as I had in the last few weeks.
The thought pinged inside my brain like a metal ball in an old-fashioned pinball machine.
I looked at Jack. “Where’s Mateo?”
“I haven’t seen him since he flew out of the barn.”
Literally. He’d seen the owl . . . shifted and taken off after the creature.
“Jack, do you speak wolverine?”
The group stared at me, their expression a tad too quiet, but the son answered. “If you mean do I understand what a wolverine wants when he makes a noise that sounds like a growl or a grunt, yes.”
“And you can talk back?”
He tilted his head. “Communicate. Wolverines are not exactly the linguists of the animal kingdom.”
“What about other animals? Do you understand them?”
“A few, if they are close to a wolverine . . . a badger, for example.”
“So, Mateo, would he understand other birds? Say, an owl?”
Jack considered the question, then nodded. “Likely. Condors and owls are both raptors.”
“So, when it looked like he was following the owl, he may have really been following it, may have understood something it said.”
“Yes . . . ” Dawning crossed through Jack’s eyes. “Wait here.” He crossed the six feet to the house in two steps. Before anyone had a chance to question our exchange, he was back.
“Athena. The goddess they are worshipping is Athena.”
I didn’t know much about Athena, about any goddess except Artemis. Bubbe and Jack, however, knew a lot, as did Mel, and with the help of the Internet she was able to find out even more.
“You’ve never heard of her?” she asked. I could tell by her tone that she found my knowledge lacking.
“I worship Artemis,” I replied, crossing my arms over my chest. Priestesses might spend time keeping tabs on the other goddesses; warriors had other things to worry about. Or used to. Now it appeared other goddesses, Athena at least, might be something we had to worry about too. Shamed by the realization, I dropped my arms.
“Here.” Mel pointed at the computer. “She’s the daughter of Zeus.”
“Artemis’s sister, then,” I noted, happy to be able to at least show that much knowledge.
“Except Artemis had a mother, Leto. Athena didn’t.”
“She didn’t have a mother?”
“Not one that gave birth to her. Zeus swallowed her mother, Metis, and later Athena came out of his forehead fully grown.”
I frowned. Childbirth was very important to Artemis, and while not something I wanted for myself, it was a key part of what women were, what made us strong. To spring fully grown from a man’s head . . . it stole that power from us. Who would worship a goddess like that? Why?
Disgusted and confused, I refocused on the most important question, at least as far as defeating Padia: “What powers does Athena have?”
Mel grimaced. “It doesn’t work like that. We don’t have Artemis’s powers, our powers are just enhanced by hers.”
“So what powers would Athena enhance?”
Mel pushed back her chair. “She’s a warrior.”
I frowned. “Like our warriors?”
“Yes and no. Artemis is a huntress.”
Bubbe walked up and stared at the computer. With a humph she turned to me. “It is the heart against the head. Athena, she works with logic. She wins her battles with her head, thinking, plotting. Artemis uses her hear
t and instincts to bring down her prey.”
I let that soak in but couldn’t see how it would help me. “What else?”
“Athena loves invention.”
“Invention? New things, like the Internet?”
With a glance at the computer and a sigh, Bubbe nodded. “My granddaughter has a bit too much Athena in her for my tasting.”
Owls and the technology. We’d seen signs of both at the safe camp. And I associated both with the camp’s new high priestess . . .
“What else?”
Mel read a list of things linked to Athena off the Web site. None of them stood out as something I’d noticed since Thea’s arrival. “Is there a picture?” I asked. I don’t know what I expected. I hadn’t seen any goddess pictures or figures while at camp, but when Mel scrolled down and the image of the armored Athena appeared, I froze.
“What’s that on her breastplate?”
“Medusa. Athena helped Perseus kill her.”
My heart beat faster. “Can you get a close-up of her face?”
“Athena’s?”
“No, Medusa’s.”
A few more clicks and a picture of the snake-haired gorgon filled the screen. Everything settled into place.
Kale was on watch. I sent Bern to get her.
When the warrior walked into the room, she froze, seemed mesmerized by the screen.
I waited, hoping my hunch would pay off.
Finally she looked at me. “How did you know?”
“What? How did I know what?” I didn’t want to lead her.
She glimpsed from the screen to me and back. “I don’t know . . . I think . . . ” She shook her head.
Despite her confusion, I stayed focused. I hadn’t ever liked Thea, certainly didn’t after she declared herself queen, but that was a long shot from the suspicions that had been building inside me. But now I had hard evidence. All I needed was for Kale to confirm it. I whispered for Mel to change the screen, to go back to the owl we’d looked at before.
With both windows open, I looked at Kale again. “How about now?”
She stared at me. “Padia. Those are her tattoos. How did you know?”
As the question left her lips, my fingers loosened and my mind relaxed.
That happens when you know your enemy, when you can finally put a face on the person you intend to kill.
Once the block in Kale’s brain was broken and we knew Padia and Thea were one and the same, it made our next move obvious. We had to capture the high priestess and force her to tell us where Tess and Andres were. And we had to do it fast before she carried out her mission to kill Andres.
“But what about what Tess said . . . that Padia had come to camp?” Mel asked.
I poked my tongue against the inside of my cheek. I’d been worrying over the question myself. It was one of the things that had made me doubt Thea’s guilt before. “She didn’t seem to be sure it was Padia, just another priestess. Maybe Padia has someone else working for her.”
“Or maybe Tess lied.” Mel’s words landed hard, but I couldn’t believe them, if for no other reason than Thea had said the same thing.
“Padia is powerful, always has been. Who knows what she is capable of now? She’s obviously trying to shift suspicion on the hearth-keeper.” Kale shook her head. “There’s no telling what she did to confuse the girl.”
“So, if Thea is Padia, why does she want Andres?” Mel asked.
“Because—” I cut off my own reply. I’d assumed Thea’s reasons to kill my brother were to keep him from growing up to be a threat to the Amazons, but that was before I’d learned she worshipped Athena.
“Because she’s afraid of the sons? What they will become?” I offered, but the reasoning didn’t ring true, not with everything else. How could Thea/Padia’s purpose be to preserve the Amazons, when by choosing Athena over Artemis she was breaking us in two?
“I don’t think she cares about the Amazons,” I added, still thinking.
“What does she care about?” Mel turned in her chair and looked at Kale.
The warrior’s lips formed a thin line. “Herself. Power.”
“She was already on the high council. What more power could she want?” I asked.
“Her own tribe?” Kale offered, her eyes flashing.
“She declared herself queen,” I added. A safe camp wasn’t a tribe, but it was a start. And now I realized I had no proof aside from Thea’s word that my position had been taken from me. She had made the announcement after speaking to her “contact” alone. Which brought another question to mind. I had spoken to her contact. That contact had identified herself as Padia. If Thea was Padia, who had I talked with?
Still surfing the Internet, Mel lifted her fingers from the computer mouse. She spoke, interrupting my train of thought. “If she’s a true follower of Athena, guided by logic, she has to have a plan. She had to realize she would be found out at some point. What then? Are the Amazons at the safe camp going to continue to call her queen?”
I gripped the back of her chair with one hand. “Maybe. We know she did something to Cleo, and Kale. She tried to do something to me and Bubbe. She has to be doing the same something to the Amazons at the camp.”
“She didn’t make any of you do anything you didn’t believe in.”
“I killed those humans.” Kale shook her head. “With a gun. Even if the women attacked me first . . . ” She frowned. “I wouldn’t have done that. Padia is dangerous. She has to be destroyed.”
“Maybe you killed them. Maybe Thea did and left you there to take the blame. Maybe they did kill each other. We don’t know. When we found you, you were confused and, yes, I think you were acting under some influence Thea put over you, but it didn’t last. It wore off.” Mel stared at Bubbe, who had become uncharacteristically quiet. When her grandmother made no move to offer any additional comments, Mel sighed.
“The point is, if Thea is using some kind of mind control over the safe camp, we haven’t seen any evidence that it will last. And I think if she could do it, she would have already. You wouldn’t have been able to remember what you just have, and Mother wouldn’t have been hidden inside a stack of hay bales. You are both warriors, valuable if Padia planned on taking on other Amazons. Why would she throw you away?”
Bubbe snorted. “Because the head does not control the heart.”
“So, what does Padia want from killing Andres?” I asked.
“I’m not sure, but if Padia is getting her power from Athena and she really wanted to show her loyalty, there is something she might do.” Mel twisted the computer’s monitor so it faced us. A line drawing of an altar appeared, an animal of some sort lying across its top, its throat slit. “Sacrifice.”
“And what better to give your goddess than the blood of your enemy mixed with the blood of those you desert for her?” Bubbe closed her eyes and began to murmur.
The image of the knife Thea had handled in the woods flashed through my mind. I described the object.
Kale tensed. Bubbe captured her wolf totem pendant between both palms. “That is not Amazon. The deaths of the sons were never for ceremony. Never to pay a price. Like our telioses, we killed to survive.”
A chill tripped up my spine. The bowl of oil, the knife . . . “She had been setting up for the ceremony when I arrived.”
“The knife will be with her, in the house,” Kale murmured. “We need it too, to keep this from happening again.”
I agreed. I couldn’t wait to see Thea again, to call her Padia to her face and expose exactly who and what she was to the tribe.
I just prayed Mel was right and any power she had over the camp was fleeting. If so, all we had to do was separate her from them and everything would go back to normal.
Chapter 24
After much discussion with Mel and Jack, I accepted that we had to change our tactic if we wanted to stop Padia.
She didn’t play by Amazon rules, but she knew them. Which meant she also knew what to expect from us.
The only way to defeat her was to do something she wouldn’t have planned for, something completely out of character for Amazons.
Meaning we couldn’t rush in, we couldn’t depend on our hearts, we had to use our heads.
When I made the announcement, Bubbe muttered, but then she clasped her hands behind her back and didn’t object further.
We had waited until full dark to gather in a crescent in view of the moon. Athena was a sun goddess, Artemis a moon goddess. From now on, if our battle went past this night, Mel insisted we plan our attacks for when the moon was in the sky, when Artemis was the strongest and Athena the weakest.
Kale had objected that it would be what Thea expected, but she was overruled. As Mel said, we had to assume the safe camp Amazons were under Padia’s influence, at least for now. Which meant we were still outnumbered and in need of every advantage we could find.
So, change one: night was our friend.
Change two: we didn’t attack head-on.
We were outnumbered. Approaching your enemy from the front might be honorable, but in these conditions it wasn’t logical.
Tonight we would become spies. We would sneak into the safe camp and grab Padia without waking anyone else.
That, at least, was the plan.
Change three: we spent actual time discussing how best to unarm the priestess.
We had decided her powers were mental: putting thoughts into people’s heads, blocking memories, and, I suggested, moving things.
“What kind of things?” Jack asked.
“Rocks, knife blades.” I described the rocks exploding from the ground and the knife moving in my hand while I battled to hold it still.
No one spoke. We looked at Bubbe.
“It is possible,” she replied, her face solemn.
“Anything else?” Mel asked.
I glanced at Mateo. He had returned an hour earlier. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to him yet, but I suspected he had another of Padia’s skills to tell us about.
“She has spies,” he said, his accented baritone startling in the gloom. We hadn’t lit a fire or torches. We weren’t calling on the goddess and didn’t want to risk a fire alerting anyone to our presence, something we hadn’t worried about earlier . . . another change.