15 #2
August pushes off the frame. “Let’s work our way to one another, one thing at a time.
Put whatever’s broken and can’t be fixed in a pile between us, and we’ll carry it outside when we’re finished.
Anything salvaged or repairable can go along the walls, so we don’t accidentally toss out what’s good. ”
“Okay.” One thing at a time.
Piece by piece, we clear the destruction.
The wooden bed frame is broken. The mattress has been sliced multiple times down the middle, much of its down scattered by the sea breeze blowing in through the windows and door.
There’s broken glass; the carafe and water glasses lay in thick shards. The table is buckled, having been smashed down the center. Even the top of the trunk that held my clothes was ripped off and is now lying upside down on the floor. The sides of the box look like they were kicked in.
A spear is too long to fit in or under most of this. Torsten just wanted to rip my things apart.
In the end, we salvage an armful of clothes and the bathing room towels.
He ruined the duffel I brought from home and the uniforms I wore into battle for Morrigan. He even tore the tongue from my boot.
August mutters something when he takes in the massive hill of debris we build and the small lump we’ve saved, then flings a hand at the wall. “He even cracked your window.”
Indeed, he did. I’m not surprised August noticed it. He likes to stand and look out of them.
My second feather remains missing, but I don’t mention it to August. I don’t want him to worry about something so inconsequential when he’s helped with so much. But August is observant.
He pauses, hands on his hips. “Did you find the quetzal feather?”
I shake my head. “It might have blown away.”
Down is scattered across the sand outside my oikos, but nothing vibrant green stands out. It could’ve blown into the water by now.
“I’ll go through the pile again,” he offers.
“There’s no point.” It’s a bright green needle in a proverbial haystack.
Without arguing, August sifts through the debris before carrying it outside, armload by armload. Eventually, he finds the little green feather. My heart feels lighter the moment I hold it between my fingers.
“Thanks for not giving up.”
He nods once, holding my eyes, his hand reaching out to tug the end of one of my dark waves. “They look pretty in your hair.”
Butterflies dare to flutter in my stomach. “Thank you.”
Cleaning goes much faster after that. I put the feather in my bathing room for safekeeping and steal glances at August as we carry everything that’s ruined outside. What’s left when we’re through is a hollow house so empty that our voices echo when we speak.
I scrub Torsten’s blood from the floor, tossing the bloody rags out when I’m done.
August leans against the door frame. “Come home with me.”
I snort. “I can’t just live at your place.”
He shrugs. “Why not?”
“What if the sand won’t let me?”
“It didn’t last night. And if the sand starts blocking you, we can assume it’ll block Torsten and keep you safe. I don’t want you to stay here alone. There’s literally nothing here for you. Besides…” He pauses and sticks his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “I don’t mind the company.”
“Aww, August, are you lonely?” I tease.
He beams a smile. “My house back home is… What’s a good word for it? Lively,” he decides. “It’s definitely lively.”
“Loud,” I add, remembering that at one time, Abuela’s was filled with our shrieks and laughter and yelling when our tempers got the best of us.
August takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, his smile deflating. “Callalie, if these are my last days, I’d rather spend them with someone whose company I enjoy rather than being alone.”
“You’re sure?”
August Aymes gathers the small pile of salvaged clothes into his arms. “Don’t forget your feather.”
And just like that, I move in with him.
In the days that follow, he fusses over me while I heal.
The evening before the second trial, we visit our palaestra to learn what it has to offer.
A large stone building with a grass courtyard and a myriad of weapons lining the inner walls.
August learns their boundary. We can take the weapons as far as the edge of the grass, where an invisible barrier blocks their removal.
August and I stretch and run and playfully spar, and when we are finished, someone else arrives. We meet the formidable Ulani and Vailea, a thirty-something husband and wife pair. I remember their faces from yesterday’s trial.
Ulani invites August into a grassy area to wrestle.
“I don’t really know how,” Aymes replies, shooting me a grin. “But I’ll do my best.” He winks at me. “Or my worst.”
I can’t help but smile.
Ulani chuckles, promising to go easy on him. Then his dark brows furrow at the sight of my eyes and throat. “Who did that?” he asks, looking at August.
“Not him,” I quickly assure him.
Vailea shoos her husband away, telling him that she and I need time to talk.
He reluctantly obeys his wife.
Patterned tattoos flow across his chest and stretch over his shoulders. His dark hair is twisted at the crown of his head. The aqua lavalava tied at his waist is the shade of a warm, shallow sea.
Ulani gives August some pre-match guidance.
As Vailea’s stare slips to my mottled neck, I tell her who caused the bruises and offer a piece of advice. “Torsten tried to steal my spear last night. If you got weapons from the salt flat, make sure they’re well-hidden.”
Her eyes turn stormy. “I hope you made him pay for the attempt.”
“I did. Before August tossed him into the ocean.”
Her brows raise as she watches the men spar. “Did he escape it?”
“Sadly, yes.”
She turns to me. “You did well in the first trial.”
“Last place doesn’t earn a golden laurel.”
“Winning is subjective. You didn’t wear the crown, but mortals in all the realms saw you behave like a hero. None of us would have gotten through if you hadn’t warned us,” she replies.
Her pale dress ties at her nape, revealing tattoos that flow over toned arms. Some of the inked patterns connect across her shoulders and flare down her back.
While I smell like August’s bergamot soap and sweat, her glowing bronze skin smells like coconut and mango.
She’s beautiful. With high cheek bones, warm brown eyes, and full lips that seem to always hold the barest hint of a smile, she’s truly stunning.
“This is Ulani’s way of returning the favor. Not many fight with only their bodies in war these days, but I have a feeling the skill will be of use, if not in the trials, then in the games.”
“No one owes us anything,” I tell her. “But we appreciate any help we can get.”
Ulani takes August down again and again, but I can tell he’s holding back. If he put his full intention and weight behind the hits, August wouldn’t be springing up so easily. But Aymes is learning how to pivot and position his legs so his arms can best be used to attack, and to guard.
A flash of aqua catches my eye, and I turn to Vailea as something dawns on me. “He’s been championed?”
She confirms with a proud nod. “Kanaloa chose him last night.”
Their pantheon could only choose one of them. And they chose Ulani.
Determination hardens her features. “Once I find a champion, we’ll fight together to the end.”
To the end.
I nod, my heart aching for them and wondering why they were nominated.
August is swept off his feet again as Ulani shows him a new technique. Though the singer’s entire backside is covered in dirt and grass stains, he’s smiling and laughing. He’s having fun, and so is Ulani, judging by his wide grin.
Vailea chuckles at them as they tumble and roll. August tries his hardest to best Ulani just once. Ulani winks at his wife when he pulls August up from the ground again.
As the men tussle, she turns to me. “I was nominated. He begged to be so he could come with me.”
He’s willing to die for her.
“Why were you nominated?”
She sighs. “Because I have Pele’s fiery temper and am incapable of holding my tongue when I should.” A sly smile forms on her lips. “And we all know why you’re here. How did it feel raising a sword against Ares?”
“In the moment, it felt right. Though I didn’t consider the repercussions,” I admit.
I swallow, flashing back to the weight of my sword in my trembling hands. Ares did not tremble. And he didn’t hold back.
“And it doesn’t feel right now?” she asks, curious.
“No, it still does, but when I think back on it, it’s hard to believe I did that. I’m terrified of him now.”
Her eyes fall to my leg for a heartbeat before rising again. “You were terrified of him then, too, I’d wager.”
I nod.
Ulani and August finally part with hearty claps on the shoulders, exchanging compliments, mutual laughter, and gratitude. They’re worn out, caked in dirt, grass, and sweat. And they’re happy.
As Ulani and Vailea leave the palaestra, they wish us luck for the next trial.
August and I walk to the heated salt pool. He crouches to run a finger through the water. It’s nearly sunset and warm, orange light spreads like a blanket over the mirrored surface. “Want to swim?”
I contemplate how to answer – I have no swimsuit. I’d have to take my prosthesis off, and when we’re done, I would have to wait until my skin was completely dry to put it back on to get home. But we can’t swim in the monster-laden sea, and the steaming water would feel so good on my tired muscles…
I’m still internally debating the matter when I hear voices behind me. Niall and the Greek are helping Koda up the steps to the palaestra.
Koda brightens when he sees us near the pool, but the two assisting him keep looking around like they might be hit by one of Zeus’s thunderbolts for trespassing where championed contenders were told they didn’t belong.
Nothing happened to Ulani, so the gods don’t seem to be enforcing who can train at the palaestras. Or at least at this one. Maybe we unchampioned would be blocked from entering the one in the west.
“Come for a visit?” I ask Koda.