CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
What is Locris like? Zalira asked and I did my best to explain without giving away too much about my past. I couldn t let them know that I was a princess-I would be thrown out of the temple.
As you might imagine. Dusty, desolate. Devoid of plants, most insects, and animals. We have to import everything we need. I didn t tell them how little hope we had there, how we were holding on without any relief in sight.
I can t even picture it, Io said, shaking her head. To live without flowers and trees? I m not certain I could do it.
Now that I had been here, I didn t think I d be able to return to that life, either. How could I accept such a barren wasteland when I had seen the most incredible green and vibrant beauty firsthand? I had to succeed so that Locris could look like Ilion again, as it was meant to.
What about your family? Ahyana asked.
I took some of the chicken from the tray she offered me. Fairly typical. Parents, siblings.
How many? Io asked.
Parents? Just the two.
She smiled at my joke. Siblings.
My throat closed in on me as tears burned behind my eyes. Regardless of the promises we d all made each other, I wasn t ready to share this part of myself yet. I only have one sister still alive.
That caused a hush to fall over the table. I could see from their expressions that they wanted to question me about it, but they didn t.
It s just Ahyana and me now, Zalira said. Both of our parents died.
My mother died when I was young and my father remarried and so now I have too many half brothers, Io chimed in. More than any one woman should be forced to endure.
That made me smile slightly.
Is it all right if I speak for you? Io asked Suri, and she nodded. From what I understand Suri is an only child and an orphan.
I wondered why Suri didn t say so herself, but I sensed that I shouldn t ask. Maybe it was something I could speak to Io about later. I didn t think she d have any problem sharing that story with me.
Do you have any birthmarks? Io asked, interrupting my thoughts.
That was an odd question. No. Do you?
I don t, she said with a sigh full of regret. None of us do.
Why did birthmarks matter? Maybe they were special in Ilion.
What is your father s profession? Ahyana asked me.
I paused. I probably should have spent time coming up with a backstory. Demaratus had spoken to us about how important spies were in wars and that in order to move freely among the enemy, you had to have your lies all sorted. He d said that sticking as close to the truth as possible would make that easier.
My father was a magistrate. That seemed like a good enough answer. What about you?
Our father was a trader from Alodia.
Alodia? I repeated, hurrying to swallow the food in my mouth as quickly as possible so that I could speak. Where they have stone pyramids, the Great Library, and elephants?
Demaratus had traveled to Alodia as a young man and had once tried to draw a picture in the dirt to show me what elephants looked like. I d laughed so hard he d erased the entire thing out of frustration. Even his description had sounded made-up. A creature with a snake on its face that it used like an arm, larger than a man, with massive ears and ivory swords attached to its mouth.
Zalira nodded. Yes, but we ve never been. Our father traveled from Alodia to Ilion to trade gold and papyrus, until he took one look at our Ilionian mother and fell in love.
Ahyana sighed happily, as if this were a memory for her instead of something she d been told. They married right away and had Zalira a year later, me a year after that. My father settled down here and opened a shop near the docks. We were so happy.
But then her face fell. Our mother passed away from a fever when I was twelve. And two years later, our father followed her to the underworld.
Our mother s brother was supposed to take custody of us, but he did not. He gave us to an orphanage and kept all our parents possessions. Our birthright, Zalira said, sounding furious. A boom of thunder accompanied her anger. And we had no recourse, no way to stop it from happening.
The orphanage was given two obols a day to care for us by the government, but we weren t fed. That was when I met Kunguru. He started bringing us food and then money. I always told him to only take from the rich, but I don t know if he listened. Ahyana pet the top of her raven s head and he closed his eyes. He and his family took care of us. And then when I turned eighteen and we were going to be put out of the orphanage with no money, no prospects, nowhere to live, Zalira and I decided to race so that we could join the temple.
No one will ever be able to decide our fates again except for us, her sister said. A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, lighting the room so brightly that it was almost like daytime.
My stepmother planned on marrying me off, Io said. To a disgusting man old enough to be my grandfather. She wanted me out of the way and said it was my duty to obey her. It was the first time I d heard her sound bitter. But it had always been my dream to serve in the temple and I decided to do that instead.
There was a mischievous look in her eyes and I remembered her telling me about how she had cheated to get her position. Did the other girls know?
By cheating, Ahyana added with a laugh, answering my question.
It seemed that Io really wasn t the sort of person who could keep a secret. I would need to remember that.
Suri made it on her own merit, Io said. She is one of the fastest and strongest people I know. There is no one better at finding lost items than her and you can t ask for a better friend. But people here don t always treat her kindly.
Why not? I felt a bit guilty speaking about Suri as if she weren t even in the room, but she didn t seem to mind.
She s Sasanian.
I glanced at Suri s right wrist and saw the edges of the same tattoo that Mahtab, the hetaera who had helped me, bore. It wasn t clear initially because Suri had wrapped lengths of cloth on her arms, covering them.
A Sasanian fashion?
Why does anyone care? I asked. That war took place hundreds of years ago.
The irony that I was the one to ask was not lost on me-I was hated for something that had happened even further back than that.
Most don t, but there are some that still do, Io said.
Artemisia was probably one of the ones who cared.
You came here all the way from Sasania? I asked Suri, but she shook her head.
There s a neighborhood in Troas with a large Sasanian population, Io said.
I took a sip of my wine. It was diluted, but it was still sweet and delicious. I felt warm inside, which I d initially blamed on my drink. I realized that it had nothing to do with the alcohol, but the company I was keeping.
Demaratus had told me once that dogs who were fed together formed bonds and became attached to one another, which was why I d always had breakfast and lunch with my regiment.
The same thing had already started to happen here.
Despite my resolution to keep these women at arm s length, to play along with whatever the priestesses demanded, to do as they wanted so that I could get my hands on the eye of the goddess, I found myself not wanting to shut out my adelphia.
They would understand what you re doing, a voice whispered inside me, and this time it sounded like my mother. They might even help you.
It could be true. They had all suffered the loss of loved ones, had been put into impossible situations where racing for the temple had been their only option, and they believed in the goddess and the old stories. I realized that I had more in common with them than almost everyone else from my former life.
As the evening progressed, I discovered that my adelphia were funny and kind and warm and welcoming. I felt included. Like I was already part of their sisterhood, despite the fact that I d only just met them. Being with them felt like coming home.
That concerned me.
I couldn t afford to get too close to them. Maybe they d help me, or maybe they d actively try to stop me if they knew what I was after.
Our dinner continued and we exchanged more stories about our lives. I was careful to steer away from any possibly identifying information and thankfully no one seemed to notice that my answers were a bit vague.
Their personalities became clearer as the evening went on. Ahyana was playful and mischievous with an irrepressible and generous spirit. Her raven clearly adored her. Zalira was protective and fierce, with a gentle and kind heart. Despite her toughness on the outside, it was obvious that she was soft as a down pillow inside.
Suri was a bit harder to get to know because she didn t talk, but she smiled and nodded or shook her head throughout the meal. I sensed strength and that she was a steadying, calming influence. It was obvious the other women cared a great deal about her, and I found myself wanting to know more.
I d never been able to resist a mystery.
Io had been so completely herself from the first moment I met her that it felt like there wasn t anything new to discover about her. She was talkative and happy, positive and determined to do what was right. She was dedicated in her service to the goddess and to her sisters, attentive and tuned in to everyone s needs.
I shouldn t have been feeling this way. I needed to keep my defensive walls intact. These women were supposed to be my enemies. They were Ilionian in whole or in part. They had grown up here-this was their land, their customs, their people, their goddess.
But somehow they didn t feel like enemies and were quickly becoming new friends.
There was a lot of laughter and teasing around the table. I d forgotten what that was like. My brother s death had cast a permanent pall over our family and now with Quynh-
I realized that a couple of hours had passed and I hadn t thought of Quynh once in that entire time.
At first I felt guilty, until I reminded myself that I had been down this path before and knew that this was the way of grief-that it would come and go in waves, surprising with its overwhelming intensity in a moment where you thought yourself past it, imagined you d become accustomed to the constant pain. Walking along the shore as the water harmlessly lapped at your feet until a wave came along that knocked you over and dragged you back into the ocean, drowning you in sorrow.
But even when you made it back to shore, that grief would continue to flow and ebb and there would be moments where you felt like your old self again.
Like tonight.
Are you all right? Io asked. I nodded but a silence descended over the table.
As if they knew I wasn t telling the truth.
Zalira exchanged a glance with Ahyana and then asked, How did you survive the race?
What could I share with them? How I d cheated and bribed an official to make certain that I d be selected? That I d trained and prepared for the event? I had to keep my true background quiet.
There was someone in my life who used to be a great warrior. He helped to train me in case I was chosen, I finally said. There were Ilionian men I d only injured who would be able to tell the tale of the Locrian maiden who had fought back. I couldn t keep that part a secret.
And although I d never had a problem lying to people before, the words felt heavy on my tongue, like they were burning on the way out.
I didn t want to lie to them. I felt a compulsion to confess everything.
Did you have to fight? Ahyana asked.
Yes.
And won. Zalira nodded with satisfaction, like she was proud of me.
Wasn t there another maiden? Io looked at me sympathetically, as if she somehow already knew that this would be the hardest question for me.
To my horror, tears began to spill down my face. I did my best to get myself under control, but I couldn t. My best friend. My sister. Quynh. She sacrificed herself so that I could live.
Those words knocked down a wall inside me, letting all my sorrow and heartache pour out. Great heaving sobs racked my body and I crossed my arms over my chest, like I could stop it from happening.
My throat ached, my chest burned, my heart broke.
The pain was nearly unbearable.
Io got to me first and wrapped her arms around me. Sometimes it has to hurt before it can heal, she said.
I felt more arms until all my adelphia stood in a circle around me, protecting me as I cried my pain and anger out.
And while I wanted to blame the wine, I knew that wasn t the reason that I could finally cry.
It was because for the first time since I d stepped foot onto the Nikos , I felt safe.