by A K Clark
I walked slowly, rolling the tension from my shoulders and neck as I circled the inside of the arena. I silently praised myself for continuing my lessons even after I had finished the basic class. The teacher had allowed a few of us to use the sparring field a few nights a week and I attended the open practice religiously. Not only that, I’d taken the advanced defense class last session. My skills hardly rivaled those of the members, but I could hold my own.
Theo stopped pacing suddenly, letting out a loud puff of air. “All right seer, hit me.” He laughed again. A regular comedian.
Ignoring him, I fell into a fighter’s stance, bending my knees slightly and raising my arms to protect my face. I took a calming breath, focusing on Theo’s smiling face.
“So you did learn somethi—”
“Shut up and fight her!” Zeus yelled.
I fought a smirk when Theo glared at the interruption. He fell into a lazy stance, still not taking me seriously. My blood boiled with barely contained rage. I really hated men like Theo.
“Since you’re so cocky, I’ll let you chase me,” I said, tilting my head and smiling at him.
He spat at my feet. “It won’t be hard for me to catch you, seer,” he hissed.
I took a tentative step to the side. Theo followed. I led him around the arena. He chased me slowly, as if humoring my little dance. I grinned before picking up the pace of my movements. I stepped quickly to the right. When he moved to follow me, I rolled past him on the ground and faced his back. I reached out and shoved him, tired of waiting for him to make a move. He pivoted, throwing his first punch. I ducked under his arm, throwing an uppercut and hitting him in the stomach. Zeus cheered wildly when Theo grunted in pain. I had no delusions. I’d gotten lucky and he was being lazy.
“You will regret that,” Theo gritted out at me before he lunged, swinging his fists in rapid succession. My arms bore the brunt of his assault, but one caught my shoulder, knocking me to the ground. To avoid being pinned, I rolled backward into a crouched position, facing Theo.
He moved in. I waited for him to get within arm’s reach before tucking and rolling away from him again. I had just enough time to stand and prepare myself before he sprang. My eyes focused on his movements, working to find an opening while my arms struggled to fend off his offensive fists.
I blocked a swing that would have hit my stomach and danced away from him. Theo punched. I dodged. I realized he wasn’t entirely serious in his assault because he kept dropping his defending arm. Finally, there was an opening.
I found his rhythm and struck out at him, shoving a fist into his nose just as he advanced forward. I heard a sickening crunch when my hand connected with his face. I hadn’t intended to break it, but he foolishly leaned into the hit, causing my fist to meet his face sooner than expected.
“SHIT!” he yelled, hands moving to protect his face. A pointless gesture. I wasn’t going to hit him again. I had made my point. He tilted his head back to slow the bleeding, gazing at me with narrowed eyes.
“HA! That’s what foul-mouthed men deserve, right, Alex?” Zeus ran up and hugged me. I laughed at his excitement. I decided then to make Zeus my friend, if only for his zealous adoration of my skills. I collected myself before chancing a look at Theo, nursing a broken nose. A smug smile spread across my face. He was a good fighter. Had he been defending himself properly, he would have beaten me to a pulp. I often won against men who underestimated me.
Cora helped Theo with the bloodied cloths. Our eyes met. Cora gave me a mischievous smile. She was lucky he didn’t win; otherwise, I would have had to kick her ass for causing this mess.
“That was entertaining,” Stefan said, squeezing my shoulder. “We practice every day. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like. I’m not sure how much time you devote to your studies, but we’d love to have some fresh competition. I don’t think you will win again, but we have grown tired of sparring with one another.”
I smiled at him. “I would like that. I’m not sure how my studies will look now...” I paused, looking from Zeus to Stefan, swallowing hard as grief hit me in the gut harder than any punch Theo had thrown. I had to glance away from the men to hide my watery eyes. My cool composure threatened to break. Stefan, gods bless him, quickly steered the conversation to a less emotional topic.
“My son, the one who made the cups you are so fond of, is traveling to Delphi. He’s the master instructor. I’m sure you can learn some useful skills from him.” He squeezed my shoulder again, this time out of sympathy, and retreated toward the house.
Zeus exhaled loudly. “Are you going to cry again?” He looked at me warily. I laughed. What is it with men and crying?
“What if I do?” I responded, pushing away the tear sliding down my cheek. Zeus pulled me into a hug. A few tears betrayed me and soaked his shoulder. He released me, looking at the small wet spot on his shoulder in horror.
“Now you’ve done it, my top is ruined.” He winked at me, letting me know he wasn’t truly upset.
“Do it again and I’ll break your nose.” I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to straighten the tangled mess. The fight had distracted me but with the excitement over, I remembered everything. Don’t think of it now.
“Whoa, woman. You have serious issues with aggression.” Zeus threw his hands up in mock surrender. I laughed. “At least you aren’t crying anymore. I have four sisters. Growing up with so many women was rough. Someone was always crying. I’m used to it, but it doesn’t mean I enjoy being around it.”
“Four sisters? Wow.” I drew out the word. “That must have been hard for you,” I went on, getting lost in the joking. Yet another way to avoid the emotions lurking within me, threatening to spill out at any second. We bantered for a few more seconds before I walked toward where I last saw Cora and Theo. I found Cora standing alone, staring at the bloody cloth in her hands. Her face was filled with a mix of horror and grief.
“Where did Theo go? I want to apologize,” I confessed, pulling her from dark thoughts.
“He left.” Cora looked at me, eyes filled with glossy tears, and shrugged. “I think he was a little upset.”
“I never would have had the opening if he had his guard arm up,” I explained, annoyed by his audacity. He provoked me, underestimated my ability, and let his guard down. It was his fault he’d gotten hurt.
“He’ll be fine. Can we go? I’m done. I want to cry in my own bed.” Cora smiled sadly at me. I nodded in understanding as we headed toward the house. The time had come to say goodbye to the members of the order.
Or so I thought.
6
Neither of us spoke once we left. I left Cora at her family home near the theater at the edge of town. The sunset colored the sky with vibrant hues of orange and violet. I focused on the beauty, fighting the barrage of depressing thoughts circling me.
I grimaced in pain when the path steepened, my legs bracing against the decline. The past day had not been kind to my body. Fear had tightened every muscle as the minutes ticked by in the chamber. The fight with Theo had left me bruised and battered, not to mention I had already been sore from my training session.
I pushed toward the humble dwelling I grew up in, wanting nothing more than to collapse on my bed. When I walked in, my father appeared, wrapping me in a fierce embrace. My bed would have to wait.
“She’s home, Issa,” he called out to my mother, squeezing me even tighter. My mother rushed over, pulling me into a hug as well. She caressed my hair and cooed words of comfort I hadn’t realized I needed to hear. It had been a long time since my mother had hugged me like this. I suddenly felt like a child.
I let out a soft cry, pulling comfort from her. My father stayed silent as she continued to whisper in my ear. I had kept my sorrow concealed with the members, but everything I’d hidden came to the surface within the safety of my home. I allowed myself to cry for a short time before pulling out of my mother’s hold.
“Do you need some tea? Something stronger?” She gazed i
nto my eyes. I nodded, not indicating which I preferred, but my mother understood. “Wine it is.” She led me to the couch and left to retrieve the drinks. I gave my best smile to my father. He stood awkwardly in the entryway. There it was again, another man terrified of a woman crying.
“It’s fine, no more tears, I swear. Come sit,” I reassured him, pointing to the spot next to me on the couch. A long sigh of relief escaped my body when he sat, his wide frame brushing against mine. The familiar comfort of family being near soaked into my weary bones.
My mother returned, carrying glasses of wine. She went to retrieve her cup of tea and a plate filled with cheese and cured meat. I had rarely seen her enjoy a glass, but my father drank nightly, always using the health benefits as his excuse to imbibe. I lifted the goblet, taking a slow sip. The deep crimson liquid tasted of plums, a bitter yet soothing flavor. I closed my eyes, enjoying the coolness rolling over my tongue before draining the entire goblet.
“Would you like more?” my mother asked from her chair, a small smile tugging her lips upward. I didn’t drink often, but it seemed necessary tonight. Exhaustion plagued my mind. I knew there would be no sleep until they knew everything.
“Please,” I said and handed her my cup. Part of me wished she would just hand me the entire pitcher, but I knew better than to ask for it. My mother tolerated drinking, but not excessive consumption. I accepted the now-full goblet from her and took another drink. A small inferno ignited in my belly as I drank. The ache in my muscles slowly subsided.
My father grew impatient first. “What happened, Alex? The speaker came and told us of the attack. How the order took you and Cora in for questioning.” His eyes searched my face when I didn’t immediately respond. “Are you all right? Were you hurt?”
“No, I wasn’t hurt.” I finished the wine before letting out a loud breath. “Where do you want me to start?” I looked at my mother, knowing most of the questions would come from her.
“What caused the attack?”
Words spilled out of me. When I described Vero’s death, I focused my gaze on the entryway to the kitchen. Any pain I might’ve seen in my mother’s eyes would break me apart again. A few tears slid down my face, but I didn’t give in to the urge to sob as I told them how we pulled Vero from the fire before her body disintegrated to ash. My father grasped my hand when I spoke of the horrors I’d witnessed.
“I wish I had been there, Alex,” he said softly as unbidden tears fell from my eyes. My mother stood and held out her hand. I let her lead me to my room, almost collapsing with relief onto the bed.
“You are strong, Alex. Stronger than most, I can see Apollo’s strength in you.” She said a few more comforting words before kissing my head, leaving me to a wine-induced slumber.
The following day I woke before dawn, then lay staring at the wall until the light shifted into the familiar hues of early morning. I walked over to the basket of clothes and randomly grabbed a peplos to wear, not caring about my choice. I walked to the bathing room, peeling off the chiton Theo had given me. The cool air caused gooseflesh to rise on my arms and legs. I stepped into the basin, not bothering to light the fire to warm the water.
The cold soothed my aching body. I scrubbed the dirt and ashes stuck on me, only stopping to cry once when I saw how dirty the water was. The stabbing pain of grief I’d felt yesterday had subsided to a dull ache.
Once clean, I dressed and returned to my room. My teeth were chattering from bathing in the cold water, but again, I didn’t care. I sat on the bed, crossing my legs and ignoring the noises coming from the kitchen. I closed my eyes, focusing on connecting with the realm of the gods.
Breathing in, I felt the thread of my soul link to the sun. With an exhale, I felt the thread become a tether. I tugged on it, bringing myself closer to Apollo. I took another deep inhalation, reaching my hand toward the warmth. The sun enveloped me. I all but lost myself in the light, the weight of the world leaving my body until it felt like I was floating. I stayed suspended until I felt Apollo reach out to me.
Why does your soul weep? His voice, strong and deep, filled my mind. His presence was a welcome surprise. Rarely did the gods speak to a seer without first being called upon.
I let my thoughts answer his question. I don’t understand what happened. Vero died a horrible death. I couldn’t feel your presence.
It was not my prophecy to deliver. Death is inevitable for all. Gods cannot change fate. He spoke without remorse. Though my people worshiped the gods, they didn’t mourn our deaths. They felt no emotional obligation to humans.
What of the man who killed her? Will he be stopped?
He didn’t respond. I wondered if he heard my question. Finally, he whispered his answer. The people need their Pythia to be strong, Alex.
I will be there to support Cora and help her. I found it interesting that he didn’t correct me about Cora becoming Pythia. Maybe I’d been right all along, assuming Cora would win the candidacy.
Difficult times lie ahead. No one will have the answer, but the answer lies within all of you. Some answers can only be found in death.
What will be the cause? I asked, taking care to keep my tone neutral, trying not to push Apollo away. He had limited patience for demanding questions.
Everything you are. His voice seemed distant, his response a mere whisper in my mind.
What does that mean? I waited for Apollo to answer but only the silence responded.
How can I stop what’s coming? Still I heard no reply. I cursed him for leaving me with more questions.
I didn’t know what to think of his message when only before he’d sent me the vision of war. My frantic thoughts disrupted the connection, the warmth of the sun dissipating, leaving my body cold once again. I sighed and unfolded my legs, walking to the kitchen with a heavy heart.
7
“Morning, Alex!” my mother called out as I entered the kitchen. “I’ve prepared a hearty breakfast to soothe your unsettled heart.” She stood over the fire, tending to the food on the hot plate. Seeing her cook made me smile. I always loved watching her in the kitchen. She moved gracefully, dancing to a melody in her head as she worked. As though feeding her family made her complete.
“I don’t think food will fix my problems.” I sat at the kitchen table.
“Did I say fix?” She raised an eyebrow at me. “I don’t think I did. But now that you mention it, there are few things food cannot fix.”
“Are you speaking from personal experience?” I asked with a smile, avoiding a more serious conversation.
“Gods, yes. How do you think I survived your childhood? You and Hyri were almost the death of me. Had it not been for food, I would have met Hades sooner than planned.”
“The death of you?”
She laughed at the incredulity lacing my voice. “Yes, Alex. The death of me. You don’t know what a mother goes through. Once your brother settled into a routine, you came along. Then there were two little creatures crawling, poking, biting, and even licking me! Can you imagine how you would feel?” She walked over, gave me a squeeze and smiled. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t change a thing.” She kissed my head before returning to the hot plate.
I smiled, remembering all the mischief my brother and I had caused. My mouth watered when she brought over a plate of toasted bread, eggs, and warmed pear slices. I devoured the pears, forgetting everything while I ate.
“Better?” my mother asked, a smile playing on her lips.
“Yes, much better. That was amazing.”
She nodded knowingly and continued eating her own food. “It will get easier with time. Your heart is already healing.” My wise mother, gods I loved her.
“It still seems unreal. I feel like I could go to the chamber and find Vero sitting there,” I said, my mouth turning down with the thought.
“Time is the only thing that can help. I wish I knew how to make you feel better.” She patted my shoulder.
Her kind gesture overwhelmed me—the wall closed in. The
house felt stifling. I needed to escape, to feel the fresh spring air blowing gently across me as I climbed the mountain path. I said goodbye, fleeing from the house as quick as my feet could carry me.
I’d forgotten how people reacted to death. When I reached town, I received two reactions: people offering their condolences by patting my shoulder and saying kind words as they passed, or people openly staring, pointing me out to their companions. I heard those girls killed Vero—or—poor soul, witnessed the whole thing. They made no attempts at discretion or to hide their discussions. I held my head high, avoiding those who stared accusingly.
The order may have cleared me of the crime, but it was obvious a small portion of the community still laid the blame at my feet. How could I have thought I’d escape reality by coming into town? If anything, I’d made it worse. I used every ounce of my control when I passed those people, trying not to scream at them I didn’t do it! It wasn’t me!
The head of the market momentarily distracted me from the condolences and sideways glances. Scents of fresh bread, exotic spices, and roasted meat converged in the most delectable way. The mouthwatering allure of the mingling aromas begged me to seek the source. For as long as I recalled, the Mager family had made bread for the market. I sought out their booth first. Mrs. Mager offered me a sample, her smile crinkling the edges of her eyes.
“Mm,” I savored the warm loaf, “delicious as always, Mrs. Mager.”
“You take one with you, Alex. No trade needed.” Mrs. Mager came around the booth to give me a hug. “I’m so glad you aren’t hurt, dear. I heard what happened. I’ve been worried sick. I hope Elysium treats her well.”
I thanked her, ducking out of the booth before she saw the dampness in my eyes. I considered her words while making my way through the market, avoiding the prying eyes of those around me.