Twenty-Three

We made it back to Phthia without incident. I slumped onto my bed, grief and exhaustion like heavy weights on my limbs. I stared at the scrapes and bruises that blossomed along my legs and arms. The image of Zoisme's surprised look, when Odysseus drove his sword through her, was relentless. I'd never seen such a brutal death in person.

Zoisme. By Amazon standards she'd been a child. Tasked with looking out for me. And I let her down by dragging her into my mess. She'd been one of my true allies and I got her killed.

I made it to the empty water basin in time to throw up whatever precious contents were left in my stomach.

I was still leaning over the basin when I heard a soft knock. I grabbed the cloth and wiped my mouth and tear-stained cheeks—when did I start crying?

"Alexis?"

My back stiffened at his voice. I clutched the cloth tight, wincing as I swallowed the bitter aftertaste of sick. The moment we arrived at the palace I voluntarily locked myself in my room. Achilles was one of the last people I wanted to see.

"Go away," I croaked.

An exasperated sigh penetrated through the door but at least Achilles had the sense to not barge in.

"You can't stay in there forever," he said.

Watch me, I thought back.

He was right, of course. I couldn't stay in my room forever. I needed to get home. That wasn't going to happen if I stayed in the palace. But right now, the wound in my chest was still fresh.

Fortunately, Achilles still refused to fight for Agamemnon. He was to remain in Phthia until the moment came for him to agree. Odysseus, for all his charm, had failed and was preparing to leave to deliver the news to Agamemnon. My respect for him plummeted, so I hoped Agamemnon doled out due punishment.

"You might think what Odysseus did was terrible but the Amazons... they're dangerous—"

I flung the door open with such aggression that Achilles had enough sense to take a step back. He was clean shaven and smelled like bath oils and leather. Thanks to his mother—the mother of helicopter parents—he'd come away from the whole Amazon ordeal without a scratch. He didn't have to remember what happened like the rest of us.

"Zoisme was my friend," I spat. I was so overwhelmed by anger and sadness I trembled, my hand turning white as I squeezed the door. "Odysseus killed her because she was trying to defend me. She died protecting me. The way I see it, the Amazons aren't the savages."

Achilles said nothing. His eyes were like the sea's water during a storm.

"That's what I thought."

I moved to slam the door, only to find resistance with his hand raised.

"It's not always about war," he said.

His hand curled around the edge of the door and he pushed it open. I was forced back, body rigid with anger.

"I didn't say you could come in," I snapped.

"I want to take you somewhere."

"Last time you took me anywhere we were kidnapped by Amazons and Zoisme died." I crossed my arms. "I'm not going anywhere with you unless it's Mount Olympus."

I couldn't recall why Mount Olympus was important, but it nagged at me. Perhaps going there would help me remember.

"Zeus won't listen to you."

I moved back to my bed. "Yeah, well, it'll beat talking you."

"He's not going to let you go if you go to him," Achilles continued, his words cutting deeper and deeper. "The only way out is through, so that's what you need to do."

My mouth flapped open and close as my brain scrambled for words. What did he mean, the only way out is through? Achilles stood in the middle of my room, making it even smaller with his broad shoulders and lean muscles. The storm had set in his gaze, their winds sending shivers down my spine.

"What does that mean?" I could only manage the first part, my voice knotted in my throat. The last part came out in a squeak.

With raised eyebrows, Achilles rested a shoulder against the wall. "What do you think I mean? You want to return home?"

I frowned and, though my brain was still trying to catch up, I nodded. Achilles considered me for a moment before pushing away from the door.

"I'd always suspected you weren't from this time. Your encounter with Artemis washed away any lingering doubts." He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. "The question, though, Alexis, is why didn't you tell me?"

"I..." My head ached. I pressed a hand to my temple and let out a shaky breath. "I don't know..."

Home. I had to go home. It was there, just out of reach.

"There are gods, Amazons and many other monsters running around this world—a time traveller from the future doesn't seem so absurd. Alexis?"

Time traveller—I gasped as the memories slipped through the fog once more. They were so faded, so distorted I could barely make them out, but they were my memories. My memories of home. My time.

And Achilles knew and he hadn't told me. Well, he wanted to talk to me back at the Amazon camp so I suspected he knew something. I'd simply forgotten.

I didn't realize he'd moved closer until I felt a hand against my cheek. I glanced up with a startled gasp, my eyes meeting his. They were so blue and deep, like the Aegean Sea and were surrounded by thick, sandy lashes.

I'd underestimated his intelligence. It wasn't the first time he'd proven me wrong about Homer's interpretation.

"Grief doesn't suit you," he said softly, studying my face.

My cheeks, still flushed from crying, burned under his scrutinty. My eyes were red and swollen from the tears and I'd yet to wash away the traces of the battle. With my dusty, torn chiton and my knotted hair, I knew I looked like a wild thing.

I tried to pull away but his touch was magnetic. "Is it supposed to?"

Like Paris' hands, Achilles' were rough, accustomed to labor, though his touch was tender.

The thought about Paris, as brief as it was, was like a slap of reality. My shoulders tensed, Achilles hand suddenly a weight pinning me down. I wanted to move, and yet my feet had a mind of their own. They stayed firmly planted on the floor.

With a smile, Achilles let his hand drop. My cheek felt cold, vulnerable. I couldn't let him entangle me in his charm, not like Paris. I couldn't do that to Patroclus.

"No, I suppose it doesn't suit anyone, but I have yet to see a smile on your lips," Achilles replied, earning a scowl from me. "I'd like to show you a side of Greece you have yet to see, Alexis. Will you do me the honour of accompanying me into the city?"

"Am I not still your prisoner?" I crossed my arms. I didn't know if it was to create a barrier between us, or because I needed to keep myself from falling apart. "I doubt daddy dearest would appreciate you taking me out on another excursion."

"My father doesn't care what happens to you," Achilles shrugged, the smug smirk back on his face. It was fleeting, as his expression softened. "You haven't been my prisoner for a while, Alexis." He pressed his finger against my forehead. "The only prison you're in is here."

I swatted his hand away with a glare. "Whatever. Fine, let's go into the city then."

Anywhere was better than this suffocating room with him pressed so close.

"Is Patroclus joining us?" I asked as we trekked down the hall.

Achilles' surprise was all I needed to lift my spirits. His cheeks coloured and he wouldn't meet my eye. For the briefest moment he looked less like a war hungry hero and more like a lovestruck prince.

The frozen grief began to melt around my heart just a fraction.

"Far be it for me to say, but I think he'd appreciate going on a date with you," I shrugged, keeping my voice even. Which was a lot harder than you might expect.

"A date?" Achilles raised his eyebrows.

"Right... um, like an outing with two lovers..." I said, trailing off. "You know, to be seen with you instead of sneaking kisses in the shadows..."

Achilles stopped so abruptly I walked right by him before slowing. I whirled around and cringed under his gaze. Where I expected anger, there was grim resignation. A sad truth, one I'd glossed over during my teasing.

Secret moments of affection. Stolen kisses when no one was looking. The privacy of the bedroom, a place to be themselves.

There was a fine line between lovers in the ancient world. It wasn't uncommon, but there were rules. There was no love, just a sexual relationship, as a right of passage. But for two men to be in love with one another...

What Achilles and Patroclus felt for one another transcended those expectations.

I took a step towards him, my hand reaching for his arm. "Achilles, I'm sorry–"

"I don't know what you mean," Achilles said, his voice tight.

The waters in his gaze swirled with things unsaid. With a truth that'll never be accepted.

"Right... of course." I tucked my hair behind my ears and dropped my gaze. "I misspoke, my apologies."

The silence that lapsed around us buried whatever easiness that had budded between us. The conversation with Patroclus had gone a different way. He'd acted shy, a softer admission to his feelings. He didn't deny them, and he wanted more from Achilles. But even he had the same resignation that now clung to the hero. They lived in a world where they couldn't live happily together.

Outside was clear, the afternoon sun beaming down on us with a warmth neither of us felt. The rain was gone for now, leaving the air heavy with humidity. The moisture coated my body, coiling my hair tight.

"What's it like in your time?" Achilles asked suddenly.

He was a step ahead of me so I couldn't see his face, but I imagined it twisted in a focused thoughtfulness.

I hesitated. My time. It was different than his. I had to remember. There were obvious differences, which came to me easily enough.

"It's advanced, technology-wise," I said, "and we have these chariots that run without horses." I tried to smile but the homesickness tugged it into a frown. "We've connected to the entire world, even places you have no knowledge of. And there are so many people, Achilles. For a big world, sometimes it feels crowded."

"And what of love?"

He didn't need to say it, but I knew what he was asking. Again, I hesitated. What good would it do to tell him? The knowledge that there was a time where he'd be accepted was moot. They were centuries away from making any progress. The only thing left from Achilles would be his name in a book.

Lifting my head, I sighed, catching a cloud dragging itself across the sky. And yet, there was hope. Maybe just knowing that things eventually got better would be enough.

"Love is more tolerated. Not everywhere, but there is progress."

Achilles had nothing to say to that. His shoulders slumped and I didn't have to see his expression to know he was thinking of his life with Patroclus. A life he couldn't have because it was wrong. A life he wanted because it was right to him.

Before I could think, I reached for him, my hand wrapping around his wrist. He stopped but his back still faced me. I bit my lip, debating whether to say anything, but then the words leapt out on their own.

"For what it's worth, people recognize your love for one another in my time," I say, "they see you and Patroclus, Achilles, and they accept you. That's a legacy you should be proud of."

We stand like that for a breath, me holding his hand, his back to me as the words sank in. Then he pulled his hand away and his back straightened. He glanced over his shoulder and I see the storm in his eyes had passed.

"Thank you, Alexis," was all he said.

We didn't get a step further before a servant came rushing to us, his face flushed.

"My lord, I apologize for the disruption," he said, the words rushing out of him like a torrent. "Something has happened. You are to go to your father immediately."

I glanced at Achilles, who watched the servant. As if feeling my question, his gaze dropped to me and he sighed. "I am sorry, Alexis. Our outing will have to wait." Then, he leaned down and kissed my cheek. "I promise you some entertainment after."

My cheeks were hotter than the depths of Hell as he disappeared around the corner, leaving me speechless with the servant. The servant—I whirled around and grabbed his shoulder as he turned to leave.

"What is the problem?" I demanded, throwing as much authority into my tone as I could muster.

The servant winced, looked around and then leaned in close as if disclosing a secret. "It's the Spartan queen. She has gone missing." I took a step back, my heart dropping to my stomach as the servant adjusted his robe. "They suspect it was the Trojan princes."

When he spoke those seven words, the world tilted and I fell into darkness' embrace.