Ink of Copper

40. In Which “Eye of the Tiger” Plays Softly in the Background

Chapter 40

In Which “Eye of the Tiger” Plays Softly in the Background

La Palazza Stellarum, Maximus’ home in the Hills of Asteria on Mount Olympus

M aximus and Liam were already in the training room setting up as Ellie entered. This part of Max’s house paid tribute to the warriors within. While the rest of his home boasted art, sculpture, and antique furniture, this series of rooms held everything a warrior would need. Soft foam mats covered the stone floor, spreading from one end to the other of the long chamber. In the center were two rectangular platforms for sparring or demonstrating certain moves. Along one stone wall were swords of various sizes, bamboo sparring sticks, and various other weaponry used to defend or attack. On one wall, Max had a collection of bows and quivers. Several long bows hung neatly in rows. Above them were several bows that curved into themselves, almost half-moon in shape with curled ends. The wooden bows had strings made of leather.

One bow caught Ellie’s attention, hanging by itself, closest to the ground. Leather thongs wove around the carved wooden stock, making a grip, worn to perfection from use. Each end, made of horn instead of wood, curved in a natural slope. There was a carving on the top curve, and Ellie took a step closer to examine it.

“It’s Pandarus’ bow,” Evander said beside her, causing her to jump.

She nodded and eyed it carefully. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is.”

Raising her eyes from the bow, she found him looking down at her. “I felt you get up this morning—” she began, but he interrupted.

“I don’t think me sleeping in your bed is the best idea.” He was all business, his shoulders straight, his hands clasped in fists at his side. His eyes, however, gave him away as they softened at the furrow of her brow.

“Okay.”

“Alright.”

“I want to explain something.”

He opened his mouth to interject, but she patted his metal forearm. His hand covered hers, his palm warm and kind.

“About what happened, about before. I feel like I need to explain.”

Shaking his head, he frowned. “There is no need to explain.”

“Penn would always do things in the name of protection.” She ignored him. “If I lost control, if my magic overwhelmed me, the only thing he could think to do was—”

The look on his face was concern, but that muscle in his jaw twitched out of control. She could tell he was getting angry.

Taking a shallow breath, she continued. “He made a room in our home, one that I couldn’t burn or destroy. I don’t know how many times I was locked inside before I learned to control . . . this.”

She stared at her hands. Raising her eyes to his, she swallowed.

“I couldn’t control myself. I had to learn.” She repeated Penn’s words. The ones she’d heard so many times before. The ones that still spun in her head.

Evander’s expression was hard as steel. Cold. Unwavering. His beautiful eyes darkened as his lips pressed into a thin line.

“I can set fires. Send tornadoes. It was for my protection, Evander,” she insisted when the dark look remained fixed on his features. “I am a menace. I am dangerous. I can harm others.”

His eyes darted to the wall of weapons, then danced to the wall of swords as his breathing stalled. He seemed to contemplate his choice in weaponry.

Emboldened now, she continued. “Every time he’d lock me—”

“I would never—I would never lock you up, Ellie.”

“I know, Evander. I know.” She took a deep breath. “I’m telling you this because I couldn’t help what happened that morning. I panicked, and I couldn’t breathe, and I thought you were going to do the same thing.”

Eyes brimming with compassion locked with hers. Evander shook his head.

“I’m embarrassed, is all. I could have hurt you again. I’m sorry, Evander.”

His demeanor softened, and he reached for her, sliding both hands on either side of her face. He tilted her head up to look at him. “There is nothing to be embarrassed for. What that man did to you, I never want you to feel like that again. What he did wasn’t to keep you safe; it was to control you. Don’t you dare apologize for something caused by that man .” He ground the word “man” out of his mouth like it was bitter. “You have nothing to apologize for. Do you hear me? Nothing.”

“Evander.”

But he interrupted. “Don’t Evander me. He isn’t a man, Ellie. Men do not harm the ones they love. You do not have to apologize for him. Do not apologize.” He swept his thumbs against her cheeks as she gave him a weak smile. “By the gods, if I ever meet him, I’m afraid of what I’ll do.”

“I don’t need you to do anything, Evander. I don’t need you to protect me.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping low. “You may not need me to protect you, but I’m going to make damn sure I do all the same.”

“Ellie,” Camulos called to her from across the room.

The moment between them broken, she quickly descended the steps with Evander at her heels. Liam was leaning up against a stack of mats on one a wall, and he went to join him.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Maximus asked as he grabbed two bamboo sticks from their container.

She looked down at her dress and then back at Maximus. “I’m sorry?”

“The dress. You’re wearing a dress to learn to fight?” He scowled.

Glancing down, she smoothed a hand over the full navy-blue skirt. It was one of the few dresses salvaged from the boat. She had been so excited to get it for the cruise, what with the embroidered white sailboats going around the hem and the red and white striped top that gathered to create a sweetheart neckline.

“What’s wrong with it?” she asked as she tied her wild curls up and out of her way. When she was done, she clasped her hands in front. Her eyes tightened at the corners.

Maximus glanced at Liam, whose face held poorly contained mirth.

“Nothing is wrong,” Maximus said, his eyes darting from Liam to Evander, “but wouldn’t it be more comfortable to train in, say, those stretchy breeches? What do you call them?” He snapped his fingers repeatedly, as if that would help him recall the word that he needed.

“Yoga pants,” Liam chimed in from his spot against the mats. He sucked in his cheeks as his smirk widened into an all-out grin.

“Right, yoga pants. Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in those?”

“You know, a woman can do more in a dress than just lift it so you can bend her over, Maximus,” Syren called as she entered the room. She strolled over to Ellie, laying a forearm on her shoulder.

“Right?” Ellie challenged. “Do you think I’m incapable of defending myself in a dress?”

“Aren’t yoga pants the battle cry for you women?” Liam called.

Evander jabbed him in the ribs. But Liam was undeterred, and his smile lit up his face as he rubbed his side. Syren shook her head at the pair. Maximus seemed obtuse to the apparent goading because he gestured to both women.

“I feel you might be more comfortable.”

“Aye! You might love,” Liam called. His cry was sharp as Evander punched him in the side, but he ignored him. “Just a little house cat of a woman. You are about a pint of ale in a liter glass.”

“Right,” Maximus nodded. “We could wait for you to ch—”

He never saw it coming.

She had moved swiftly, catching the commander off guard, sweeping his legs out from under him. One moment, Maximus stood discussing her outfit; the next, he was flat on his back, wings splayed. He let out an “oof” as he landed. Light on her feet, Ellie turned and had her foot resting on his throat. Max lay looking up at the ceiling in confusion. The riotous laughter that broke from the other four joyfully bounced off the stone walls.

“Better surrender, Max. Looks like the house cat has claws.”

Maximus grunted, putting one hand on either side of her sandal. Ellie let him up. She ignored the snickers from the two clowns by the mats. Max straightened his armor and rolled his shoulders, adjusting himself after his takedown.

“Go again,” Camulos demanded.

Syren made her way to the warriors and nestled herself next to Liam. Before she had even settled back against the mats, Ellie had Maximus on his back, pinned to the floor. She glanced at Evander, whose gaze never left her. Pride streaked across his face as he watched her pin his commander.

“You knew about this, didn’t you?” Max yelled from his back.

“Hell yeah,” Evander shouted. “How else do you think she got away from those daemons?”

“Alright, Ellie,” Maximus said, feeling the slight pressure she put on his throat. She smiled down at him. “I think you’ve proven your point.”

She nodded as she backed up, letting him get to his feet, and pulled herself up tall.

“How’s about attacking her from behind?” Evander chided, crossing his arms and leaning back. The four spectators were now fully invested in the outcome.

Camulos joined the three against the mat, a grin on his face.

“I think that’s an excellent idea, Maximus,” Camulos retorted, receiving a harsh scowl in response.

She knew this move; it was the first she had perfected in class. She stepped back and braced for him. She heard his wings rustle behind her as she waited. Anticipating his pounding footsteps, she listened, but there was only silence. The jolt of Max’s arms encircling her waist startled her momentarily as he lifted her into the air, dragging her backward. Ellie struggled against his grip, regaining some composure after being surprised. Her feet flailed out, and it looked as though he may have found her weak spot. But her muscles remembered what to do, and she threw her entire body weight to the floor. The weight change loosened Max’s grip, and as soon as her hands touched the floor, she grabbed his ankle and yanked. He landed on his back with a hard thud. Holding his ankle aloft, she spun on the ball of her foot and, in one fluid motion, had her sandal centimeters from his crotch. Maximus lay still. Stunned.

The room was quiet for a breath before it erupted with hearty laughter. The three comrades lost control of themselves. Camulos held his stomach. Evander doubled over, laughing uncontrollably, while Liam lost himself entirely, all at the leader of the company’s expense.

“Where on earth did you learn that?” Max asked from the mat.

“I’m from Texas, son,” she said curtly and let go of his leg.

“Evander!” he snapped, his features dark and highly annoyed as he rose.

“Has our fearless leader had enough?” Camulos goaded.

“Evander,” Maximus repeated, straightening his tunic. “Why don’t you show Ellie some moves with the ash poles?”

“Good luck,” Liam called after him as he took the mat.

He picked up both poles, eyed them, then her.

“You take this one,” Evander said, rolling the shorter of the two poles over to her with his toe. Before she could object, he added. “It’s only because of our height differences.”

She accepted that and watched Evander get into position, his stick poised and ready. Picking up the faux spear, she tried to balance the weight in her hands, running her fingers over the smooth wood. Setting it upright, she ran her gaze up the length, inspecting it. He waited for her to be done examining the weapon and get into a sparring position.

But she never did.

Ellie stood with her pole standing upright, the dulled spear tip pointing towards the ceiling.

Camulos called out instructions from the pile of mats. “Ellie, clutch it like a sword.”

Unmoving, she looked at the pole once more.

“Like this.” Evander made a quick move, jabbing it forward in demonstration. The end came comfortably under his arm. He repeated the action, jabbing forward and coming back to position. The spear slid out of her grip and dropped to the mat when she tried it. The problem was, where Ellie could handle a bow and arrow and have some skill in defending herself, she wasn’t a warrior. Her hands were smaller, and she was shorter. Trying to wield a tall, cumbersome weapon was frustrating. She gritted her teeth when the spear dropped for a second time.

“Maybe use a bamboo one,” Liam called. “It’d be lighter.”

Nodding, Evander took both spears and switched them out for lighter versions. Giving one to Ellie, he again demonstrated a movement. With the lightweight weapon, he quickly whipped it around in an arc and tucked it under his arm. Ellie twisted the spear but lost control, sending it tumbling to the ground. Max walked over and took the weapon from her.

Standing sideways, he had her mimic him, twisting her hips and kicking her feet into position. Showing her two moves, he made her repeat them.

“Go!” he commanded, leaving the mat.

Evander moved forward towards Ellie, training spear in hand, ready to strike. He twirled it, making a graceful arc, and swept a leg out from under her before she knew what hit her. She landed with a soft thump and glared as he laid the stick across her chest, pinning her. He let her up.

“Again,” she snapped.

He moved again, advancing towards her with skill and precision. In a few moves, she was on her back again. Ellie blinked at him from under his weapon. Her gray eyes darkened, and Evander jerked as he felt the spark she sent as a warning.

“Again.” The command came from behind her clenched teeth.

He came at her softer this time, intent on letting her get the best of him. Ellie understood what he was doing when she connected with his weapon in a move he should have bested her with. She growled, and he pinned her once more. Offering his hand as she pushed up to stand, she shoved it away. Straightening her shoulders, she stepped back on the ball of her foot and let her anger fly. Without warning, she came at him full force, striking his spear and pivoting to the side. He had little time to react when she struck him again. Defending the attack, Evander tried to step back to gain his composure, but she hit his weapon hard. She could feel her powers surging, the familiar tug whining beyond her emotions. Her eyes flashed, and her magic moved in a wave, a split second before he had time to drive forward. She swept her pole down, aiming for his shin. He leapt out of the way and turned, returning to a sparring position. She approached him quickly, jabbing from left to right, chest to shoulder. Driven by the pulling of her magic and rising anger, she advanced quickly; he could only defend himself against the five-foot wall of pain.

Ellie let her anger flow through her, giving all her energy to sparring with the makeshift spear. These four saw her as helpless, an oddity they couldn’t take seriously. She didn’t need bodyguards or someone to fight her battles for her. And she certainly didn’t appreciate being taken from her world and thrust into theirs with no thought as to what she would give up. They weren’t trying to be pompous, condescending jerks, but their type of protection was all too familiar. Penn had treated her that way their whole marriage, as if she could never measure up to his expectations. She’d be damned if she let it happen again.

Wouldn’t it be easier in yoga pants? Maximus’ voice rang in her head. Narrowing her eyes, she connected with Evander’s stick. The pole reverberated back through her hands. A half a pint in a liter glass. This time, it was Liam’s voice. She twirled on her heel and came up to connect with his weapon from underneath. The blow caught him off guard, and he grunted as he retreated. She advanced on Evander, matching him blow for blow. Your protection . This time, it was Evander’s voice ringing in her head. His words hurt more than she wanted to admit. She could feel herself edging to where her magic took over, losing control. Striking at him hard and fast, she swung, hitting the edge of his pole. Twirling it in the air, she struck again from the other side. She directed all her frustration, hurt, worry, and pain at Evander. The sharp crack of the two sticks smacking into each other was the only sound in the room. Crossing them brought her closer, and when his narrowed gaze met hers, she expected to see the same anger she felt.

“Ellie,” he warned as she prepared to advance again.

She was out for blood, and he was her target. He was breathing hard, his face flushed as he blocked her on one side. Connecting with her weapon on the other, he blocked it again, keeping her from hitting anything but the bamboo stick. She was panting, her magic coming to life in her palms, moving with intensity. Anger and sparring were a deadly combination. Evander defended himself again, taking several steps back, keeping his pole pointed at her defensively. She growled and moved forward, striking his weapon with such force, he dropped it.

“You win. You win, yeah?” he said, hands in the air as the pole rattled to the mat.

“Screw you!” she yelled at no one, her emotions surging forward in waves. Tears rolled down her cheeks, hot and fast. “Fuck all of you,” she screamed, pointing her weapon at the spectators who had taken to their feet.

She shoved the pole at them, wanting to blast them all into oblivion. Wanting to be the destroyer she was rumored to be. Her anger welled up, crashing against the chaos that warred inside her and spilled into the room. Tears blurred her vision.

The air in the room snapped to life, electricity coursing through it. A swirl of wind gathered at her feet as she circled a disarmed Evander, refusing to let him retreat. The wind whipped as it had in her room; only her magic had more space to grow. It groaned and moved, coming to life. Lightning flashed in her eyes as she turned her gaze on Maximus. Pointing the stick at him, she felt a charge of magic spark out of her, racing down her arms and into the weapon. Maximus moved, but Camulos was quicker.

“Ellie!” Camulos shouted as he shot his hands out from his side. Her magic left the spear’s edge like lightning, racing towards Maximus when it slammed into a protective field. It sparked and slithered as it broke apart, running down along the edge. Ellie stood in the middle with splinters of magic moving like electrical wires around her, illuminating the two inside the dome.

“Ellie!” Camulos shouted again. This time, he entered the shield he created and stood directly in front of her, holding out a hand to counter her chaos. Ellie flipped a wrist and encircled Evander and herself in flames. Camulos stepped to her, his powers surging.

“Ellie,” Syren softly called to her. “Little lamb, look at me.”

Thunder cracked as the wind circled, drawing the flames into the cyclone. The force of the gusts picked up objects in the room, carrying them into the tornado inside the bubble. Sparring sticks, a few weights, and a wooden sword joined the chaos of fire and magic.

“Ellie,” Syren called again from the outside. Tear-filled eyes met Syren’s soulful expression. “Honey, you’re angry; we get that. But you don’t want to hurt old Cam, do you? Or Evander?”

She shook her head.

“Let us—them—help you,” she said, stepping towards the mayhem Ellie created. Liam jutted a hand to stop her, but she refused, shrugging it off. “Let them teach you.”

“Ellie.” Evander’s voice was soft and reassuring, like last night when he held her as she fell asleep. “Darling, look at me.”

Thunder clapped as she thought of that creature, that thing with icy death coming for her. Fear mixed with her anger as the chaos in her warred. A lightning streak slammed into the dome’s edge, sending sparks of magic bursting to the ground. As if expecting bedlam to engulf the room, the five of them fixed their gaze on her. The destruction she could cause. The awful person who hurt others with her magic. They needed protection from her, from what she could do. Reaching out, Evander faced her as she stood on the edge of letting the power of destruction consume her.

“It’s okay,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m right here. I’m not leaving you. I’m not afraid of you.”

She felt Camulos lowering the protective shield he created. Evander took steps towards her. The flames died immediately with a flick of her wrist; the surrounding mats left unsigned. She wanted to believe these five could help control her magic, but it was becoming apparent that she would live a life in chaos. That Athena would come, and she wouldn’t be able to protect herself. The wind stopped abruptly, and everything caught in its grasp fell to the floor with a loud clang. Panting, her magic coursed through her like a heartbeat, pulsing, straining to be released. She was shaking with the sheer amount of will it took to contain her magic.

Ellie felt him try to wrap his arms around her, but she clawed at him. Punching his chest with both fists, pushing at Evander until he enveloped her in his arms, pulling her to him. She clung to the leather straps that crisscrossed his chest and wept. Two weeks ago, she was unaware of this world; these men were part of legends and fairytales. She had a boring, simple, small-town life. Glad to be free of Penn. Happy to begin a new chapter. Not be chased by daemons, hunted by a legion of Chthonians, or angering a goddess. She clung to Evander like a raft that had floated out to sea to find her.

He stroked her back as she sobbed, just as he had last night. Would this be their friendship? She always falling apart, and he always the calm one. Burying her face into his chest, she felt a strange sensation, like a transfer of energy between them. It differed from her magic. It felt familiar, but not.

“Darling,” he whispered into her hair, bringing her back from the brink.

“I can’t do this,” she choked out, wiping her eyes with the palm of her hand. “I’m not cut out for this. I can’t be your savior. I can’t fight a goddess. Or a legion of skilled warriors. Or anyone else. I’m not some fairytale princess who rides up and makes everything better. I’m not strong. I’m not a warrior.” Calming down, her sobs turned to hiccups. “I never asked for any of this,” she said to no one in particular.

“You’re right.” Camulos pointed his chin at her. He was looking at her as if she had accomplished something. As if he were proud of her. Ellie shook her head and placed her forehead on Evander’s chest.

“You’re right. You didn’t ask for this, but you were born for it.”

“I don’t want it,” she shouted at Camulos. Shoving Evander away, she stalked towards him. “All I ever wanted was a damn vacation. I never signed up to be a part of this—of whatever y’all are. All I wanted to do was take pictures of the Parthenon, for godsake. I’m a simple girl. I like books, yarn, and three people. I’m done. I’m done with all this. I won’t fight when I never wanted this to begin with.”

“You don’t have a choice, Ellie.” Camulos crossed his arms over his chest. “Valerius needs you to open his mate’s cage. The Chthonian will come looking for you. You are the prophecy. You are the savior.”

“Find another girl! I quit,” she spat at him and headed towards the archways leading into the house.

“You can’t quit. You can’t run away from this,” Camulos called after her. She turned on her heel and faced them all.

“This isn’t some stupid superhero movie, Camulos. Where some soothsayer walks into the room and says I have to save the world. That I’m the only one that can or some other stupid shit. I don’t have to do any of it. The only thing I have to do is stay here for thirteen more days so I can go home.” She turned around and marched up the stairs.

“The world will burn if you don’t. Athena will destroy it. She will destroy all of us,” Camulos yelled back, taking a step towards her retreating frame.

She paused with her back to him on the last step. “The world is already burning, Camulos. War, famine, sickness, death, riots, human trafficking. My parents died because of me, because of what I can do. This world is already burning in hellfire. Why would I want to save that?”

She walked out, leaving them all staring after her.

Maximus was the first to break the silence. “We aren’t done trying to train her, are we?”

Camulos stared after her. “She needs our help. I do not know what Athena or Valerius are planning, but I know one thing. Ellie’s magic will be her demise if we do nothing.”