by Lori Devoti
“So where is Thea?” I was still curious about the Amazon in the barn, but Thea was my focus right now. I had to find her.
“I don’t know. She has hardly slept at the safe camp since you left. She told me to take your room.”
“She said you could have my room?”
“No, she told me to take it, and she had another warrior sleep in hers.”
So even when she did stay at the camp, it wasn’t in either of the rooms I might have guessed.
Mel was right; Thea was a follower of Athena, a plotter. But if she wasn’t sleeping at the camp, where was she sleeping?
I looked at Mel. “I think we need to find out who these birders are. Find them, and we will probably find Thea.”
I gestured for Bern to pull Areto to her feet. I wasn’t sure what to do with her. A lot depended on what happened next, if I discovered what she had told me so far was true or not.
I glanced at her. “Do you see Thea come and go? Does she drive herself, or do birders come with her?”
“She leaves at dusk on foot and comes back at dawn.”
So wherever she was staying was close. But our woods covered fifty acres, and a number of houses were within jogging distance, cross-country. She could be in any of them, or she could be staying in a tent pitched on our property or an adjoining property . . . there was no way to know.
“There’s more.”
Bern held Areto by the arm. The captured warrior didn’t struggle. She lifted her face and met my gaze.
“There’s something planned in two days. I don’t know what, but we were told to stay at the camp, that we would all be expected to participate.”
“Night or day?”
“Day, little before noon.”
I nodded, then moved to walk past them.
“Zery?” Areto pulled in a breath. Her chest expanded. “I accept my fate, whatever you decide, but I want you to know . . . Bern too . . . I’m sorry.”
I walked past her then. She was sorry; I was sorry. But regret wasn’t going to get us out of whatever Thea had planned . . . action was.
While Mel revisited the computer, looking for anything that might tie the date Areto had mentioned to Athena and give us some clue as to what Thea had planned, I sought out Jack and Mateo.
In a strangely normal tableau, they were sitting in the kitchen, drinking beers and eating peanuts. There were two empties in front of each of them and the floor was littered with peanut debris. As I entered, Mateo crushed a shell under the heel of his boot, then shifted his foot to smash another.
I filled them in on what Areto had said.
The bird son didn’t look up until I’d finished.
Like me, they were more interested in where Thea might be now than in who might be lying dead in the Amazon’s barn.
“I didn’t see any sign of a tent,” he replied. His face was drawn and his eyes tired. I didn’t think it was the beer causing either. It was easy to forget he was Andres’s father. That he had as big, in some ways bigger, stake in what happened than I did.
“But you weren’t looking for one either,” I said. I kept my tone pure business. There was no room for pity, and certainly no time. “And if there is one, I don’t think it would be obvious.”
Looking at Jack, I asked, “How are wolverines at tracking?”
He scissored his fingers around the beer bottle’s neck, then swung it back and forth. “Better than humans.”
“Better than Amazons?”
He looked up. His eyes were filled with challenge.
“See if you can pick up her scent,” I replied. Then, at Mateo, “And see if you can find a tent, or anything else that she could be staying in overnight.”
He brushed a pile of peanut shells onto the floor and started to rise.
I paused, for some reason feeling propelled to say more. “He’s alive, Mateo, at least for now. I don’t know what she has planned, but I’m sure whatever it is, it involves Andres . . . which means we have until . . . ” I hesitated, calculating. Areto had said two days, but it was morning now—had she meant from yesterday? Realizing she probably had, I finished, “Wednesday, noon. We have until then.”
Then I left. A day and a half. That was it. It wasn’t much; I prayed it was enough.
By five I was still wide awake, as was Mel.
She was at the computer, a cup of coffee at her elbow. The beer sounded better to me, and since neither would have much effect on my Amazon metabolism, I walked back to the kitchen to get one. Mateo and Jack had left. Kale was missing too. She seemed to like to be alone; considering what she’d been through, I could understand that.
Crunching peanut shells under my shoes, I returned to the office with a longneck.
As I twisted off the lid, Mel leaned back in her chair and watched me.
“So, there’s another Amazon involved.”
I lifted my head in the affirmative. “From the high council.”
She slid her fingers through the coffee cup’s handle and tapped them against the ceramic. “Any idea who she is or why she came here?”
I lowered the bottle I’d just pressed to my lips. “Kale mentioned two other council members who were on Padia’s side. I figure one of them found out about her worshipping Athena and weren’t happy with being duped.”
Mel seemed to accept my explanation. “Makes sense. Too bad she didn’t find us instead. It would have simplified things a lot.”
“Or Kale. Thea . . . ” I was having a hard time deciding what to call the priestess, Padia or Thea. For now I had settled on Thea. I’d thought of her that way for too long. “Thea must have already done whatever she did to her before the council member Areto saw showed up, otherwise the pair of them might have been able to stop her.”
“But she only killed the second arrival. I wonder why?”
I shook my bottle, checking how much I had drunk. “She needed a patsy? She’d already killed the birders too and wanted someone to take the blame?” Maybe if Areto hadn’t called the sheriff’s office, Thea would have.
“Maybe.” Mel didn’t seem to buy it. “And you said Thea didn’t seem to know Kale.”
“She was obviously acting.” I shrugged; I was past understanding why Thea did anything. To be honest, I didn’t want to understand her; I just wanted to stop her.
Mel picked up her cup and took a sip. “Do you think Andres’s still alive?
“According to Areto, there’s a big event coming up. So, yeah, I think he is.”
Mel pulled her fingers free from the cup. “Well, that’s what confuses me. This event . . . it’s huge.” She tilted her head toward the computer monitor. “Panathenaea. Athena’s birthday.”
On the screen was an image of Athens, people thronging the streets. They were gathered around a statue I now recognized as Athena. “What are they doing?” I asked.
“Giving gifts.” Mel’s face was grim.
“What kind of gifts?” I asked, but I already knew.
“Sacrifices. During Panathenaea, they made sacrifices.”
“And what better sacrifice than the blood of your enemy mixed with the blood of those you betray,” I murmured, repeating Bubbe’s words.
Mel nodded. “None, but the thing is, Panathenaea didn’t just pop up. If Padia wanted to kill Andres for Panathenaea, and it makes sense she would—any sacrifice made then is going to have one hundred times the power of one made any other day—why would she have tried to kill him earlier? That doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe she hadn’t thought about Panathenaea being so close, but by the time she stole Andres back, she realized she was missing an opportunity.”
“An Athena worshipper forget her birthday?” Mel scoffed. “Athena’s about planning, remember? What kind of plan is that?”
She was right. Like many things about Thea, it didn’t make sense. Panathenaea had only been a week away when we stole Andres. What was a week? Nothing. Not if it meant increasing your power by one hundredfold.
The beer seemed
to be giving me a headache, or maybe it was trying to figure out the indecipherable priestess.
I set the bottle down. “I don’t know. I just know we have to stop her.”
Chapter 26
I shook off the questions my conversation with Mel had uncovered. I didn’t need more questions. I knew what needed to be done; the details of Thea’s madness could be sorted out later.
Hoping some caffeine would stop the headache that was ticking to life inside my skull, I’d followed Mel’s lead and gotten a cup of coffee from the machine in the kitchen and carried it to the back deck.
Bern and Cleo were asleep. I’d ordered them to bed as soon as we’d gotten Areto squared away in a windowless room in the basement. Kale was watching her, or at least I assumed she was; I hadn’t actually checked in on them for hours.
Bubbe was off doing whatever Bubbe did in the early bits of day, and Lao was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Actually, she was fussing over a mess Kale had made while helping her. I was impressed a warrior would even try to help in the kitchen, but apparently Lao had thrown out more than one of Kale’s efforts since the warrior’s arrival and was nothing but annoyed to have to do it again.
Sipping my coffee, I wandered toward the woods. The mother dog followed me. Somewhere not far away an owl hooted. I tensed and considered searching for the creature, but the thought was fleeting. I couldn’t fly. I could maybe find the animal and shoot it down, but it would be no use to us dead.
I had to trust in Mateo, trust he had heard the owl too, and would do what I couldn’t.
I turned back toward the house.
Something rustled in the trees behind me. The mother dog stiffened. She positioned herself in front of me and raised her lip in warning.
Taking a cue from her actions, I reached for the nunchakus I’d tucked into the top of my pants.
Tess burst out of the woods.
Dressed in the same clothes she had worn when she had left Mel’s with Dana and Andres, she glanced around the clearing. Leaves and twigs were caught in her long hair. Her eyes were wide and wild, and her breasts moved up and down as she fought for breaths.
“They have Andres. They’re going to kill him. You have to come with me.” She grabbed me by the hand and tugged me toward the woods.
Remembering the questions I’d had about her, I held firm. “Calm down. Tell me where he is, who has him.”
“Thea. She’s going to kill him. You have to come with me now.”
Behind her the owl called again.
She jumped. “Now! You have to come now.” Then she turned and raced into the forest.
I hesitated, but only for a second. Tess was already out of sight, the sounds of her frantic running already growing distant.
With a curse, I jogged after her, sure I could catch her and hopefully calm her before she alerted Thea that she had escaped. Or, if she was responsible for any of this herself, just catch her.
The girl was faster than I had imagined. Trusting my instincts, I jogged the direction I sensed she had gone. I was at least one hundred yards away from the house when I caught sight of her again.
She was standing by a tree; she seemed to have come to her senses and was waiting for me.
I held up one hand. “Don’t run. We need to talk. We need to plan—racing in will just get Andres killed.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t waste energy worrying about Andres right now.” Thea stepped out from behind the tree. She held a box, similar to what the birder had used to ignite the explosion at Mel’s.
I lunged forward, but the action was futile. She pressed the button.
As my foot hit the ground, it shifted beneath me. Machinery ground above my head. I fell backward, realized I’d been caught in some kind of a net. It closed around me; I grabbed the rope it was made of and tried to tear my way out.
Thea laughed. “I’m sure that with the use of the blade you disguise as a belt buckle you could free yourself, but not in the time I’ll give you.” She raised her hand.
Tess stepped forward and pressed a tube to her lips. I stared at the hearth-keeper, my brain not cooperating, not comprehending what was happening.
She blew through the tube.
Something small flew out of its tip and zipped toward me. I hurtled my body to the side in an attempt to dodge the tiny missile.
Metal bit into my side. I pinched the dart between finger and thumb and jerked it from my flesh. My mind flashed back to the darts Thea had used on Mateo when I’d thought we were on the same side. Darts I’d never questioned her about.
Another projectile hit, then another. There was no stopping them, no avoiding them and, as each dart hit, I moved slower, until I wasn’t moving at all.
Thea, her face pressed close, laced her fingers through the net’s weave and pulled me toward her. She whispered, “Sleep well, queen. You have a big day ahead of you.”
I clenched my fingers, trying to form a fist, and then nothing . . .
* * *
When I awoke, I was no longer in the net. I was lying on my back on a bed. My feet were bare and tied. My hands were bound too, palm to palm. My belt with its hidden blade was gone, and I could tell by the lack of pressure to the small of my back that the nunchakus had been taken from me as well.
The room had a cheap disposable look, and it was small, barely larger than the queen-size bed. I could tell I was in an RV and that it was daylight outside, but I had no idea how much time had passed. It could have been minutes, hours, or days. Days was doubtful, though. That would have taken us past Panathenaea, and I suspected my capture had something to do with Athena’s birthday.
There was a door straight ahead and two windows, one on each side of the bed and both out of reach in my current situation, but if I could stand, that would change. I wiggled my way to a sit, until I was propped against a wall.
I glanced around again, looking for something to smash through the glass.
That’s when I saw the owl perched on the top of the closet door. Its eyes were round and expressionless; its gaze locked on me like I was a fat mouse it planned to have for dinner. I twisted my body, intending to place my feet on the floor.
The owl fluttered his wings and shrieked. The sound was otherworldly. Despite knowing it came from the animal, a shiver shot up my spine.
The bird settled back down, tucking his wings back against his body, and resumed his disturbing observation. I shook off the moment of unrest and lifted my feet again.
The door I’d noticed earlier opened and Thea walked in.
The bone spear-shaped knife she’d given me the night of our first meeting was in her hand.
She motioned for me to put my feet back on the bed.
I stayed where I was.
“Tess, bring the darts,” she called.
The hearth-keeper appeared behind her.
I jumped to my feet and lunged forward, intent on head-butting the pair out of my way. The owl shrieked again . . . right before a dart hit me in the shoulder.
Then the net was back, dropped from the ceiling. I stumbled and fell and was hit with three more darts. My head began to swim.
“Enough. I need her awake this time.”
There was silence, then the sound of footsteps and the door closing behind someone.
When I opened my eyes, Thea was staring into them. Her eyes were gray; I’d noticed that before, but now I could see the color was deceptive. They weren’t a solid gray, a shade somewhere between black and white. Instead they were like prisms, many colors, all the colors I had ever seen before broken into such tiny bits that from a distance they appeared gray.
They were mesmerizing . . . my head began to sway, my body too.
“There you go. You see it, don’t you? Now you need to listen, listen carefully. I’m going to tell you secrets, secrets you need to know, secrets that will make everything all right.”
I felt my head nod. Secrets. I wanted to hear Thea’s secrets.
I held very still and let her whisper in m
y ear.
Her words flowed over me like water, warm and reassuring. She knew what I wanted, what I needed . . . I just needed to listen.
“Are you with me, Zery? Do you hear me? Raise your hands and let me know that you do.”
I raised my hands, or tried to; something was holding them down, keeping me from complying. I jerked with all my strength and they flew up.
Thea laughed. “Good, good. I think we can get rid of this now.”
A weight lifted off my body, the net pulling free.
I was sitting on my butt, my legs bent at the knees in front of me. She knelt beside me. The knife was in her hands, but it didn’t bother me. I trusted her, wanted to hear her secrets.
“You know Padia’s plan, don’t you?” she asked.
I nodded. I did.
“And you don’t want her to succeed, do you? Would you do anything? Sacrifice anything to stop her?”
I nodded again. She smiled and patted my hand, like a toddler who’d drunk all of her milk. She leaned close and whispered, “That’s my secret. I want to stop her too.”
Some part of my brain scoffed. I didn’t believe her; I knew who she was.
Thea . . . Padia . . . brushed her thumb over my arm. “What’s this?” Her thumb stood out against my skin and the black ink underneath.
“Your artisan friend playing? Thinking she can outdo me with markers?” There was disbelief and disgust in her voice, but my attention was mainly focused on the art she had ridiculed—the praying mantis . . . the leopard . . . the meerkat. What had Mel said when she’d drawn the meerkat? What was his gift?
The tiny animal’s eyes glistened; it swayed, like I had swayed. It barked, yelled at me, in Mel’s voice. “Think, Zery. Remember. Be strong.”
I blinked and looked at Thea. She wasn’t watching me. She was still staring at the art my friend, my best friend, the one person I had always been able to trust, had drawn on me . . . to save me.
And suddenly the fog thinned. Thinned but still there, like looking at the world through sheer fabric. The floor was hard beneath my buttocks. The air in the place was stale and smelled of old food, sweat, and septic, but all of it was dulled somehow, ever so slightly surreal.