Some women kept their distance from us, but as we rocked to the beat, they came in close again. Theo’s arms went around me, and I hooked mine over his shoulders. Our hands slid over one another, caresses more intimate than any romp in the woods with a village boy. No part of him was off-limits. By the time the drums slowed, I had explored every part of him.
He held me close, our faces sweaty and clothes sticky. I tilted my chin up to kiss him, but then the music stopped. The tribe gathered around the bonfire to toss little things into the flames, sending orange sparks into the night.
“What are they doing?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
We moved in closer and saw that dozens of women were throwing roses into the fire, then shutting their eyes and whispering to the heavens. Even little girls were participating.
Adrasteia approached us. “As part of the spring hecatomb,” she explained, “we burn a rose as a sacrificial representation of ourselves, Gaea’s creations. And we ask Aphrodite to forgive our shortcomings, replacing our sorrow with her love.” She passed us each a rose. “Would you like to join in?”
“This will bring me forgiveness?” Theo asked, raising a brow.
“It’s a renewal. All souls carry burdens. Let them go, and open yourself up to new beginnings.”
I wasn’t convinced that such a simple act could have that much influence, but I was still basking in the pleasures of the wine and dancing, and I was willing to participate for the sake of the evening.
“No one need know what you seek forgiveness for, Colonel,” Adrasteia said, resting her hand on his shoulder. “That’s between you and the goddess.”
Theo shifted closer to me, away from Adrasteia. She glanced from him to me, then smiled and left us.
“You first,” I said.
Theo stepped toward the fire, his expression set in concentration, and tossed his rose into the flames. He wore his sadness with absolute conviction as he watched the tender bloom alight.
I twirled a rose under my nose. What I needed forgiveness for, I doubted the goddess could give me. I couldn’t turn back time and save my mother or my infant sister, and I couldn’t go back and switch places with Cleora. The Erinyes had every right to hound me. I vowed to my mother that I would protect my sisters. If I couldn’t forgive myself for falling short of that promise, how could I expect anyone else to forgive me?
“Althea?” Theo asked. “Are you all right?”
Tears smeared my vision. “The wine must have gone to my head.”
He drew me away from the fire, back to our tents. I slipped inside mine to check on Bronte while he waited outside. My sister slept soundly on top of her blankets. I pulled her sandals off one by one, brushing my finger over the star-shaped freckle on her heel, then laid my blanket over her. I rested the rose beside her and stepped outside again.
“How is she?” Theo asked.
“Comatose.”
The closeness we shared while dancing seemed far away already. I thought about reaching out to touch him, to reclaim that intimacy, but the sadness in his eyes stopped me. “What did you ask forgiveness for?”
His shoulders tensed.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
Theo rolled his head, releasing the tension in his neck, then dropped his chin to his chest. With a downcast gaze, he replied. “I asked for forgiveness for not protecting your baby sister.”
My whole body stilled.
“I could have done something. Taken the baby. Hidden her.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because of my mother,” he admitted. “Had I run off with the babe, they would have used her against me. Punished her as though she had committed the betrayal.”
My heart sped up. “Doesn’t she face the same threat now?”
“It was a risk I had to take in order to win her freedom.”
All those years ago, on the night my mother died and my half sister was taken, Theo had only followed orders. I understood that now. I couldn’t expect him to stand up to Cronus on his own, especially when I was incapable of doing the same.
“I forgive you.”
His hand reached toward me across the dark. Our fingertips touched, and the distance between us evaporated. We leaned in, and our lips met.
Theo sucked in a breath so deep that I thought he might inhale the world, then he carefully took my chin in his warm hand, and he kissed me deeper.
My lips pressed against his hungrily, fast and full of pent-up need. His kisses were slower, delicate, measured, with the thoughtfulness of a man who believed he had all the time on earth. His depth of affection was beyond what I had anticipated, and I couldn’t help but sink into it.
Theo caressed my back, hips, breasts. Everything moved slower than I had patience for, yet I matched his thoroughness, my touch lingering across his chest and shoulders.
As Theo trailed kisses down my throat, my head lolled back, and my mind spun. This wasn’t merely a satiating of carnal desires.
This was meaningful.
This was stupid.
I had oaths to keep, and this was no time for distractions. All the other times I had let a man touch me had been strictly physical. This . . . this was complicated.
I rested my forehead against his. “I should go.”
Theo took my chin in his hand again and kissed me, achingly slow, turning my legs to mush. I almost changed my mind and invited myself into his tent, but he stepped back and whispered, “Good night, Althea.”
He started to go, then paused and crouched. A single narcissus had bloomed where we had been standing.
Theo stood up again, suddenly on high alert.
“Was that there earlier?” I asked.
“No.”
He stomped on the flower and ground it into the grass with his heel.
A frigid grimness sank through me, straight to the marrow in my bones. I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. We were almost out of time.
Theo continued to scan around us for any sign of the Erinyes. Finally, he said, “Sleep with your weapon close.”
After another look around, he went into his tent. I slipped into mine and found my spear in the dark, then lay down next to Bronte. I tucked myself into her body heat, but I could not shake the chill clinging to my insides like hoarfrost.
The Erinyes would never stop hounding me. Forgiveness and new beginnings were a lovely thought, but I would have no peace of mind, no renewal of self, until I fulfilled my oath. The next day, I would do what I should have done in the first place.
I would go to the Almighty.
17
Sunup came too quickly. Bronte was still asleep when I got out of bed. I tried to be quiet while I changed clothes, but I made just enough noise to wake her.
“Oh, my head,” she said, moaning.
“Go back to sleep. Your headache will pass.” I kissed her forehead and pulled back. “Your skin is hot.” I touched her face with the back of my hand. “You’re feverish.”
“I just need sleep,” she said.
“And water,” I said, setting the waterskin beside her. “I’ll see what I can do about finding a remedy.”
She mumbled something that I couldn’t understand and drifted back to sleep.
I left the tent and shielded my eyes from the morning sun. Bronte wasn’t the only one who’d drunk too much wine last night.
The camp was quiet. I had hoped to catch Euboea before she went out fishing, as she did most mornings, but her gear was still hanging by the mess hall, including the spear she took to defend herself against sea dragons.
Theo stepped out of his tent. I pulled up short at the sight of him. His eyes were red rimmed, and his mussed clothes were the same ones he’d worn yesterday.
“Good, you’re awake,” he said, adjusting the strap of the sack slung over his shoulder. A gust of wind ruffled his wavy hair. “I’d like you to join Zeus’s training session today. I thought about what you said, and you’re right. Your attendance would
be good for him.”
“I was looking for Euboea. Bronte is feverish. I was hoping she might have a remedy.”
“Ida would be the one to ask,” Theo said. “She gave Zeus a tea for his upset stomach the other day. He said she has a way with remedies.”
Bronte did need something for her fever, and I was worried about her, especially since it would be difficult to leave her here if she was unwell, but I also needed to speak to Euboea about sailing me back to Thessaly. Since she was nowhere to be seen, it could wait. “All right, but I need to come back soon to check on Bronte.”
“This shouldn’t take long.”
Theo and I set off into the woods. The air was cooler in the trees, the forest floor damp from dew and the wind calmer. We were quieter than usual. Perhaps he was thinking about last night too. I tried to forget about it, but every time he rubbed his beard or licked his lips, I remembered his kisses. This will pass, I told myself. Leaving the isle, and leaving Theo, would cure me of my infatuation.
The trail led us past the nymphs’ cottage and flower garden. Their shutters were closed. I thought to stop and ask Ida for something for Bronte’s fever, but I would rather Zeus or Adrasteia ask her on my behalf. Ida was more likely to assist them. We continued onward, all the way back to the area of the woods I never wanted to see again. The ravine that I’d fallen into when the Erinyes had chased me was just as steep and precarious as I recalled, though a rope had been installed, strung from one side of the gulch to the other.
“Althea!” Zeus came jogging down another trail from uphill, his face and chest slick with sweat. I wondered how long he had been running. “The colonel said you might join us today.”
“He did?” I glanced slantwise at Theo.
“We’re training on the high rope today,” he said, setting down the sack he had brought. “It’s better with multiple participants.”
Zeus clapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Althea. There’s a net.”
Indeed, they had strung a fishing net along the bottom of the ravine, though the drop was still quite far. Theo pulled out a waterskin and a timepiece. He set up a clepsydra—a portable water clock—on top of a flat rock, explaining that it would keep time for approximately six minutes.
“I have a prize for whoever is fastest at crossing to the other side and back,” he said.
Zeus’s eyes lit up. “What’s the prize?”
Theo took a pair of bracers from his pocket. The leather armor, worn around the wrists and forearm, was engraved with lions in a design almost identical to the one on my mother’s arm cuff.
“They were part of my first set of battle armor,” Theo said. “They haven’t fit for years, but I keep them with me for good luck.”
“Those bracers are mine,” Zeus said, hopping on his toes like a jackrabbit. “I’ll go first.”
He walked to the edge of the drop-off and stretched his arms overhead.
“He’s entirely too jovial about, well, everything,” Theo grumbled.
“Wait until you see how annoying he is when he wins,” I replied.
Theo extended his hand and brushed his fingertips down my forearm. “Thank you for coming. Zeus does better with an audience.”
A dart of guilt struck me dead in the chest. I couldn’t tell either of them that I was leaving. They would try to talk me out of it, but I had made up my mind. The best way for me to help Cleora wasn’t waiting around for Zeus to grow up. It was trading myself for her like I should have done in the first place.
Zeus started across the rope. He placed one foot in front of the other, his arms out. Theo began the water clock, then took a crossbow out of the sack and aimed it at Zeus.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Increasing the level of difficulty.”
“What if you hurt him?”
“The bolts are dulled at the end.”
“That doesn’t mean it won’t hurt.”
“A little discomfort would do him good.” Theo locked the bolt in, sighted his target, and let the bolt fly.
Zeus bent backward to avoid getting hit, then righted his balance.
“Your turn,” Theo said, offering me the crossbow.
“Me? I don’t think so.”
“Zeus will take the opportunity to shoot at you when it’s his turn.”
I accepted the crossbow.
“Tuck it at your side,” Theo said. “Now add the bolt and pull back. There, it’s locked and ready for release. Squeeze the trigger lightly . . .”
I released the bolt and narrowly missed Zeus.
“You’ve done that before,” Theo said.
“A hoplite left a crossbow in our field once. I played with it for a few days before he came back to retrieve it.”
Theo handed me the rest of the bolts. “Have at it. Don’t hit him too many times.”
I didn’t. A couple times, I came close to grazing him, but Zeus was light on his feet.
He reached the other side, grew more confident, and increased his speed on the way back. I couldn’t reload quickly enough to keep up, and soon he was back on our side of the ravine.
“Whoop!” he cried, pumping his arms over his head.
“How did he do?” I asked Theo.
He checked the water clock. “He beat my time.”
“What was your time?”
Theo pressed his lips together. “Longer. Much longer.”
“He’s going to be unbearable,” I groaned.
Zeus bounded over to us. “I did well. Didn’t I do well? Did you see how well I did?”
Theo rubbed at his forehead. I shoved the crossbow at Zeus and rolled up my sleeves.
“You better not lose to a puny mortal,” I said. “That would be so embarrassing.”
Zeus removed from his pocket the violet that Metis, his betrothed, had asked him to carry on his person. He sniffed the flattened petals in a familiar way that made me think he did this a dozen times a day. “I’m already a winner,” he said dreamily.
I envied his confidence.
Stepping forward, I peered over the edge. The net below appeared secure, but since Zeus hadn’t fallen in it, I couldn’t be certain. I wasn’t afraid of heights, but standing near the drop-off left me winded.
“Althea, you don’t have to do this,” Theo said. “Zeus’s time will be difficult to beat. You don’t need to put yourself in danger.”
The implication rankled. All my irritation at having to depend on Zeus had been building up, and the last thing I wanted to hear from Theo, or anyone else, was that it was impossible for me to beat a Titan.
“I’m going, Theo. Time me, or don’t. I’m doing this.”
Zeus grinned. “Good luck, puny mortal.”
I extended my arms out and set one foot on the rope. It swayed a little. The first few steps were shaky, but farther out, I found my balance. Staring ahead, I tried not to look down or think about how high up I was.
A bolt whirred past my face. I reeled backward, arms windmilling, then redistributed my weight.
“Well done, Althea!” Theo called.
I wished he would be quiet. He hadn’t cheered on Zeus, and it was distracting at best, patronizing at worst. Theo didn’t say another word until I reached the far side, then he shouted that I had made it halfway. He really needed to shut up.
I set out to return. After my first few wobbly paces, Zeus shot a bolt. He missed, but he followed it with another, and that one hit my leg with bruising force. I gritted my teeth at the immediate throbbing. My concentration wavered, and I glanced down.
My next step missed the rope, and I fell forward. I grabbed the rope around my chest, catching it on my underarms. I didn’t want to drop into the net.
“Zeus, go get her,” Theo said. “Althea, hold on!”
My position was too precarious for me to pull myself up, but I wasn’t finished.
“I can do it!” I let myself hang and moved down the rope, hand over hand, swinging side to side to propel myself. Despite my assertion, Z
eus reached me in only a moment. He swung on the rope effortlessly, hanging by one hand, and slipped his free arm around my waist.
“Climb onto my back,” he said.
“No.” My hands ached. Blisters were rising along my palms. But I didn’t grab for him.
“Althea, let go and let Zeus carry you,” Theo called.
I ignored him and kept going. Zeus stayed right behind me, almost effortlessly. The unfair ease of his movements fueled me forward.
Theo waited, his arms outstretched toward us. I reached the end, and as I hauled myself up, he grabbed me by the back of my chiton and pulled me to safety. I lay on my back, staring up at patches of blue sky between the treetops.
Zeus landed right behind me. “I’m sorry, Althea.”
“Your aim is good,” I replied, panting.
Theo inspected my leg. “Are you all right?”
“It’s just a bruise.”
He didn’t seem to hear me. “Zeus, you should have grabbed Althea and brought her back.”
“She didn’t want me to—”
“Go again,” Theo said. “You’re still training.”
Zeus’s eyes hardened. “You forget who you’re speaking to, Colonel.”
“I know exactly who I’m speaking to,” Theo countered. “You think because you’re the son of the Almighty, you’re not accountable for your actions? Your privilege makes you more accountable, not less. Go again.”
Zeus slammed his jaw shut. “I am sorry, Althea.”
“I know,” I said. I didn’t understand why Theo was so angry.
Zeus shot Theo another glare, then stepped back on the rope to cross the ravine again.
Theo helped me to my feet. “He’s a child,” he groused. “Our lives, and the lives of everyone we love, hinge upon an overgrown boy.”
“He’s still learning.”
“He’s Cronus’s son, Althea. Do you think he inherited nothing from his father? I’ve never met a more selfish, womanizing, unfaithful braggart than Cronus—but Zeus may exceed him.”
“He won’t. He has a good heart.”
“Does he?” Theo scrubbed a hand over his beard. “He should have brought you back.”
“Why? I finished on my own.” Then it suddenly dawned on me, the reason that Theo had invited me to join. “I’m here as, what, bait?”
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