Twenty-Eight

The Aegean was as stunning and clear as the day the Trojan convoy set sail for Sparta. If only the sky was as reassuring. The unrelenting sun that bore down on us for weeks had finally disappeared behind a solid, gray curtain. The temperature dipped and I heard subdued grumblings from the men that they worried the weather would not work in their favour.

For the most part, I was left alone. A few of the Myrmidons curiously glanced my way, but they kept their distance. Some regarded me with caution, as if I were an omen, though whether a good one or bad, they couldn't yet tell. I knew they all wondered why I was joining them on the voyage, though none dared ask Achilles or Patroclus outright.

I stared at the calm waters and silently hoped that the sea remained a mirror as the Myrmidons loaded the vast ships Peleus provided. I hoped the sea wouldn't shatter while we sailed. I hoped Poseidon wasn't waiting under the glossy surface with his sea serpent for me. The gods had all but kept their distance save Artemis. My luck couldn't hold forever.

A raven circled one of the ships, crying out with its mischievous caw. I watched it loops around the masts in such a neat ironic form. A cyclical journey. I'd started out in Troy, travelled to Greece in the hopes of returning home and now I'm going back to the place where it all began. I rubbed the smooth shell of Dryope's acorn. The dagger Artemis gave me was cinched around my waist and I prayed I didn't need to use it. Not even against the hero who slaughtered my friend without batting an eye.

Thinking of Odysseus ignited the simmering flame of anger in my gut. I shoved the acorn into the neat fold in my dress before storming across the sandy beach, putting as much distance as possible between me and the men I was soon to be trapped on a ship with for the next few weeks.

I spent the week leading up to our departure training with Achilles. Bacchus was still missing, and I tried hard not to think that something terrible happened to him, but I think he would have been a more amicable trainer. Achilles was gruelling. Most nights I went to bed on wobbly knees and woke up with stiff muscles. Blisters formed and were only now starting to break into hardened calluses. I spent each night rubbing the palms of my hands with oil and aloe vera in the hopes of easing the burning throb each time I held the sword.

But, even after one week, I was better than when I'd started. Achilles might not have said as such, but every time I parried with perfect form, I saw the corners of his lips twitch.

He didn't know why I was so determined to fight, but it was Odysseus' face I focused on. It was the hero's sword, dripping with Zoisme's blood, that I saw with each strike. The Greek hero might be regarded as calm, calculating and intelligent, but to me, he was a murderer. He didn't even want to fight in the war, even going as far as feigning madness to avoid drafting.

Apparently, the Trojan convoy made impeccable time when they sailed to Sparta, for we were destined to take the longer route and meet up with the rest of the Greek army first. Weeks even, much to my dismay. The thought of encountering any other Greek hero caused the contents in my stomach to sour. Odysseus, the one person I thought would see reason and have a level head, turned out to be just as brutal as the rest of them. I was done having my hopes dashed each and every time.

I sighed and found a nearby boulder, just out of the way but still within sight of the Myrmidon army. I leaned my head against the rough, gray stone and closed my eyes. Survive the trip to Troy first. Figure out next steps after.

"Something is different about you," came a quip. That voice, so grating and familiar.

"I wonder what," I sighed, pushing away from the boulder. I look up to find Athena lounging above, her helmet gleaming despite the overcast sky, sagging with its weight of water. "What are you doing here? I thought you said you could no longer get involved with me."

Athena shrugged, her eyes flitting over to the Myrmidons scurrying about. "I have as much stake in this war as anyone."

"Of course you do." I trudged through the sand back to the Thessalian army. The goddess wouldn't risk mingling with the humans until they were in the thick of battle.

"Do you remember our first meeting?" she asked, trailing behind me. Because, of course she was. She couldn't pass up an opportunity to gloat or mock my situation.

"I remember you saying you wanted to help me get out of this mess." I waved a hand at the army running around. "In case you haven't noticed—still here."

"Alexis."

Her tone made my steps falter, though I didn't turn.

"Things were much simpler back then," Athena said, "and I know I haven't held up my end of the bargain but I cannot do anything to change that now."

"Great, glad we're doing this again," I mumbled. A faint pulse echoed in my brain and I winced. "If you're feeling particularly guilty about all of this, keep it to yourself. I can figure this out on my own." Paris. I needed to get back to Paris.

The strangled sound of exasperation curled my lips with sick delight. Good. She deserved the attitude. Even if she could smite me, I would go down with the last word.

Suddenly, Athena stood in front of me. She took a step forward, her spear, dangerous and sharp, all the more menacing up close. "No. It's not that simple. There is a reason you have been dissuaded from going to Zeus. Alexis, he's—"

"There you are—oh."

I peeked around Athena to find Patroclus a few feet away, his pretty face pale, his eyes shining with awe. I rolled my eyes and he dropped down on one knee and dipped his head.

"Wise Lady," he murmured, "thank you for your appearance."

"You're going to inflate her ego," I sighed, glaring at Athena. The goddess studied Patroclus with a curious expression, one that certainly could not bode well for anyone. I moved over to him and grabbed his elbow. "Stand up. She doesn't deserve your grovelling."

"How can you be so callous around a divine goddess?" Patroclus gasped. "She is here, no doubt, to present us with her protection in our journey."

If I wasn't in my current predicament, I would have found his reaction comical, just as I had once found Paris'. Instead, I sighed and gave him a small, apologetic smile.

"Hate to break it to you, bud, but she's not here for you, and she has no intentions of sending us away with well wishes."

Athena, the great and honourable goddess, made a sound behind me that sounded uncannily like a snort.

"You are a fool to speak like that before an Olympian," Patroclus whispered, his hand finding purchase on my arm. "Alexis, be careful."

"Oh, trust me, if she wanted to kill me, she would have already." I glanced at Athena who's amusement softened into a scowl, yet she somehow still managed to look drop dead gorgeous. "Isn't that right, Athena? You've killed people for a lot less and yet, here I am, still standing. I wonder why that is."

"I came here to warn you," Athena said, advancing towards me. I felt, rather than saw, Patroclus shrink away from the power radiating off the goddess, but I stood my ground. "War changes people, Alexis. It is not a holiday. It is grim, it is violent, and it will test every bit of who you are." She leaned in closer, her wise, brown eyes boring into me. "Do not go to Troy thinking you will come out alive."

The ground beneath my feet shifted and a crack, so tiny yet significant, formed in the hardened shield I'd built around my chest.

"I don't need your warnings," I snapped, "leave me alone, Athena."

Athena pretended not to hear me. She pulled away and glanced at Patroclus, whose cheeks flushed at her attention. In the distance, the ships looked ready to sail, the Myrmidons filing onto their designated ship. Achilles was there, somewhere and, I couldn't help but wonder if he had the chance to say goodbye to his mother.

"Protect this girl with your life," the goddess said. "See that no harm comes to her in Troy."

"That is not something you can just ask of him—" I started, but Patroclus cut me off.

"I will," he said with such earnestness, even Athena's hardened heart seemed to melt just a fraction.

"Good luck, Alexis," Athena said. She smiled, actually smiled, at me, before, in the next breath, she was gone.

I stared at the spot she'd been standing, the steady drumming of my heart filling my ears. I heard Patroclus saying something but he sounded far away and distorted.

"Why did you agree?" Though I whispered, my voice still trembled.

"Alexis, what are you talking about—"
I whirled on my feet and jammed a finger at his chest. Startled, Patroclus took a step back. "You do not know what this war will bring for you. You need to take care of yourself. Not me."

He couldn't be distracted keeping me safe. The Trojan War was on our heels and I couldn't bear the thought of what was coming next for him.

Patroclus lifted his hands, raw emotion in his grey eyes like the beginnings of rain. "Of course I would protect you. Not because Athena asked but because Achilles did."

My heart stuttered and my brain stalled. "Why would he ask that of you?"

When Patroclus smiled, there was no humour. Just a dry, desolate acceptance of a fate he wanted but could never have. My heart was frantic, a terrified rabbit trapped in a bone cage.

"I believe you already know the answer to that, don't you?"

I pressed a hand to my chest and glanced at the ships. I didn't want to accept what I'd already known and tried to dissuade for so long.

It wasn't Patroclus Achilles loved. At least, not anymore.

The worst part? I'm not sure the feeling was one-sided.