Sixteen

By the time the Amazon queen called for us to stop, Zeus was pulling his might. Sagging, gray clouds blocked the moon, a pale, drab veil as an otherworldly rumble shook the sky. A sudden whoosh of wind pelted leaves and loose dirt at us. With the cloud cover our surroundings were darker and more ominous. Now, it looked as ominous as Achilles had wanted me to believe.

Even if I were surrounded by fierce warriors and with a legendary hero, I was still uneasy as Zoisme helped me off her horse. The Amazons were cluttered glomps of shadows moving swiftly around us, the rain falling harder and faster now. A fat, giant blob of rain splattered my cheek, followed by a drop that felt like a cicada on top of my head. I shivered, regretting not grabbing a shawl or cloak before leaving Phthia.

Zoisme led me through the throng of warrior women, moving with such ease that I suspected she had no issues seeing through the rain and darkness.

My foot caught on what I assumed was a rock and I stumbled into her with a gasp.

Nothing but grace.

"Hold my hand," she said, exasperated.

To her I probably fumbled around like a toddler learning to walk.

"I'm fine." I batted her hand away and brushed my dripping hair out of my eyes. Her lie still stung, and I wasn't ready to be buddies again. Now doubt she felt the same way. "Where are you taking me?"

All around us, tents were put together faster than I thought was imaginable. The Amazons were efficient and swift, a well-oiled machine of dangerous women. And, with the rain coming down in sheets, even the Myrmidons would be forced to make camp until it stopped. The uneven, muddied terrain would make riding difficult. At least for the night, we could rest.

"This way."

Zoisme led me through the camp to the edge where an elaborate tent had already been set up. The tent was bigger than the others, cream coloured and illuminated from inside with a soft glow from torches. Shadows moved within.

It had been erected so fast I might have believed it had always been there. A shield rested against one of the pillars, and an Amazon stood at attention near the opening, unphased by the mighty wind and rain hitting her. When she saw us approach she pulled open one of the tent flaps. Zoisme ducked inside but I hesitated. Obviously, this was Penthesilea's tent, but who was I going to find inside? Zoisme had mentioned Her but that could be anyone. A goddess for sure, but who? Athena was my best guess, though she never bothered to take such lengths to speak to me before.

The Amazon at the entrance raised her eyebrows. "They don't like being kept waiting."

With an eye roll, I drew my back straighter than an arrow and lifted my chin. Now wasn't the time to be a baby. It's not like I had much choice. Might as well get the meeting done and over with and get back to the task at hand.

The tent provided impeccable cover from the rain and wind. I shivered as the warmth of the small hearth near the centre of the tent brushed my skin, rousing hundreds of goosebumps. A moth to a flame, I drew forward, relishing the flames, forgetting myself for a moment. The smoke filtered out through a fist-sized hole at the top, though the air in the tent remained hazy and gray, burning my eyes.

To the right, reclining on a wooden high back chair, was Penthesilea. I was starting to suspect her warriors already had the camp set up, waiting for our arrival. The coordinated efforts only proved the efficacy of the Amazon army. They were a far cry from the savages Achilles and other Greeks claimed. They were organized and skilled and deadly.

The queen caught me staring, and her hard, brown eyes narrowed as she climbed to her feet. She moved like a panther—lazy, sure but no less dangerous. Zoisme, who materialized beside her, kept her eyes on the ground, one hand on a dagger hanging at her hip.

"Alright, I'm here. Who am I supposed to be meeting?" I demanded.

"Everything will be explained in due time," the queen replied, coolly, "but I first have something to attend to—ah, here he comes now."

The tent flaps swung open again, a sodden gust of wind breaking through. On its heels was a blonde Amazon I didn't recognize, dragging a drenched Achilles.

His hands bound behind his back, the fight gone when exhaustion took over. He looked smaller, shoulders hunched, his chin dipped towards the ground. His blonde hair was wavy, dripping sweat, dirt and rain onto the ground.

That wasn't the hero I'd come to know over the past few days. Surrounded by the inhuman Amazons, he looked pathetically human.

I should have felt satisfied seeing my captor on his knees. I didn't.

"He's smaller than I imagined," the blonde Amazon observed with a smirk. "The revered Achilles on his knees."

"Enough, Peliope." The Amazon queen drifted towards them, glaring at the Amazon. Peliope. "You'll have plenty of time to torment the supposed hero once we've talked."

The promise sent icy shivers down my spine.

"Yes, my queen."

Achilles lifted his head, his sharp blue eyes catching mine. He might have been tired, but there was a storm brewing in those eyes, not unlike the one stirring the sky above us. He was biding his time, I realized, waiting for the right time to strike. It wasn't like he was still tied up and surrounded by a bunch of Amazons wanting to gut him like a fish. Peliope was a panther, but Achilles was still a lion. And lions, brutish as they may be, were equally unpredictable.

Peliope crouched to match Achilles' eye level and tilted her head. It was so dainty and birdlike. I almost forgot that she was a killing machine.

"I look forward to playing with you, hero," she said, tapping his cheek.

"Why don't you untie my hands and we'll see how that goes," Achilles said in a carefully level voice.

"Peliope," Penthesilea warned.

Peliope licked her lips and straightened. Her eyes never left Achilles as she dipped her head. She moved so her back was against the side of the tent, her eyes glinting dangerously.

"Zoisme, this is a good time to learn a thing or two about becoming queen."

Zoisme's head snapped up, eyes wide with anticipation. "Yes, Mother."

I tripped over the word, my head snapping between the two Amazons. "Mother? She's your mother?"

Yes, now that I heard it, I did see similarities. The same curve of the jaw, the same, elegant nose. The almond shape of their eyes... A hot bout of anger flooded my chest. Another secret from the person I thought I trusted.

Zoisme nodded. "You were my first mission on my own—"

"That's all I was? A mission?" I lunged forward, grabbing Zoisme before anyone could stop me. "You could have helped me. Done something, and instead you left me in danger—"

Hands wrapped around my waist, hoisting me off my feet. Anger poured out of me like a poison leaching from a wound. "Let go of me! Zoisme, you traitor!"

Zoisme flinched but it was the queen who spoke.

"I asked her to keep quiet about her identity," Penthesilea said. "You mustn't blame her for following orders."

"I'll blame whomever I choose," I spat back, and kicked back. My heel made a satisfying connection with bone. A moment later, the arms released their hold with a pained grunt and I dropped to the ground. I forced myself to meet the queen's gaze, my own turning to daggers. "Doesn't mean I forgive her or you."

"Don't forget what you did," Zoisme warned. My murderous look swung to her and she pursed her lips.

"We are getting off track with this petty grudge." Penthesilea's gaze fell on the hero. "I want to know what it is that you plan to do with your men? Are you going to war, Achilles?"

Achilles raised his eyebrows, and I noticed a spark of irritation like a lightning bolt flash in his eyes. "What concern is it of yours? You have nothing to do with Troy or Greece, savage."

"I take great offence to that," Penthesilea sniffed. "If there's a war coming between the two kingdoms, we're all involved. Savages and Greeks alike." She crouched down again and grabbed his chin. It was not a kind gesture, but a dominating one. She wanted him to look her in the eye, to know that she had the upper hand. I wanted to tell her to watch his teeth, but she seemed completely at ease handling a wild animal. "If we wanted, we could eradicate a powerful Greek ally right now and give the Trojans a chance." Her smile was catlike, bloodcurdling. "I'd be a hero for killing the almighty demigod Achilles."

My back straightened as I stared between the Amazon queen and Achilles. So the woman army was supporting Troy? Would they be going to Troy? My chest ached with a new possibility.

"Then why don't you kill me?" Achilles asked, throwing the queen a challenging grin. He was enjoying this predicament. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Apparently, he didn't see the seriousness of the situation. "Kill me and claim that title if it's really what you want."

Penthesilea's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as her thumb stroked his cheek. There was something else going on here, a staring game. The first one to blink lost, and these two were top contenders. Achilles might be restrained, but he was still a hero, a demigod. She could kill him, but it wasn't going to be easy... unless she knew his weak spot.

"As you wish." Penthesilea stood and unsheathed her sword. "Troy is going to win this war. You can be certain of that, Achilles, hero of Greece. It's a shame that you won't be there to see it happen."

Oh my god, she was actually going to kill him.

I moved without thinking. I shoved Peliope back with all the strength I could muster—she was easily two heads taller than me—and her grasp slipped. Probably more due to the surprise than anything. Not that it mattered. I dashed forward, my foot catching a patch of mud. I slipped, and then while trying to right myself, I slipped again, right past the queen and into Achilles. Rather than valiantly placing myself between the queen and Achilles, I fell into the hero, my chin hitting his forehead. My teeth clamped together so hard that I'm pretty sure I loosened a couple of them.

The momentum knocked him backwards, and we collapsed into a heap.

Everything was silent, save for the howling wind and the pitter patter of rain that was picking up speed. It soaked right through to my bones, a welcoming chill after the heavy heat that had consumed the land for days.

"Could you be any less graceful?" Achilles hissed.

"Shut up," I moaned back. "I'm trying to save your life."

"And how is that going?"

Glaring at him, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Penthesilea staring at me in open shock. Not only was she surprised by the scene, but I imagine I looked like an utter fool sliding around her tent. Peliope's eyes were saucers. I was a pro at causing a scene.

"You can't kill him," I said, shifting so I faced the queen while still blocking Achilles.

"I suppose you might be right. Death would be honourable and I'd get nothing out of him." Penthesilea sighed and gestured at Peliope with her chin. The blonde nodded and slipped out of the tent. "But I have other ways to make you talk."

A moment later, Peliope came back with Patroclus. A little pale, the side of his temple matted with blood and dirt, Patroclus was, for the most part, unharmed. When he saw Achilles, however, he lurched forward, a wildness in his gaze.

"Achilles," he whimpered. Peliope yanked him back.

"Unhand him," Achilles snarled. "Your fight is with me."

"He looks like he'd squeal like a pig, though," Peliope smirked, tracing a finger down Patroclus' cheek. "Does he enjoy pain, Achilles?"

Peliope's hand curled and, in the blink of an eye, Patroclus fell to the ground with a pained cry, his cheek red from the impact. Patroclus curled his knees under himself, shifting to a sitting position, his chest heaving. His eyes burned with a silent promise.

Achilles pushed me off and struggled to stand, but Penthesilea kicked him back down.

"Stay, boy," she purred. "If you cooperate, your pet will not endure anymore."

"No, you can't do this," I gasped. I pushed myself between the queen and Achilles once more. "This is all wrong, Penthesilea. You can't hurt him..."

"Stay out of the way," the queen ordered. "You're lucky the lady of the hunt wants you alive and unharmed."

The lady of the hunt? Peliope reached for me, but I batted her away and glared at the queen. "I'm not going anywhere until you agree not to kill Achilles or Patroclus."

Why on earth was I standing up for Achilles? He took me prisoner, refused to let me leave, even when he learned about my situation. Stockholm Syndrome, maybe. But the guy was growing on me, though I definitely wouldn't admit that out loud. Realistically, he wasn't supposed to die at the hands of an Amazon queen. That and because watching the cannibals kill themselves was one thing. To watch someone I know die...well that was a different story.

"You are his prisoner, are you not?" Penthesilea asked, "why do you want to spare his life?"

"Well, you could argue that I'm your prisoner now," I muttered, thankful for the cover of the rain to drown it out. "I'm not... I mean, I am, but..." I glanced back at Achilles, who was propped up on one of his elbows, staring at me with such intensity that I had to look away. "This isn't how he's supposed to die."

"How do you know?" the queen asked.

I was wading into difficult waters now, but there was no point in lying now. Stretching the truth, though, would make it all the more believable. "I... saw it... in a vision."

Because prophets were way more believable than a time travelling girl.

Achilles' eyes were dark, darker than the storm clouds above. There was no knowing if it was distrust or anger, or both. Patroclus looked downright dazed and confused. He stared at me, questions splayed on his face. They didn't believe me, which was fair. What was I going to say? I read all of it in a story written by an ancient Greek poet, so I know everything? I knew the outcome of the war, of everyone's fate. It was all I could do to try and keep things on track.

If Achilles or Patroclus were killed now, that would set off a huge chain reaction. I may not know exactly what was happening, but I was definitely changing things. And there was no telling what those changes would do for the integrity of history.