“The one we read about in books?” Io asked at the same moment that Zalira said, “Kysandra from the Great War? That took place a thousand years ago?”
I nodded. “Lysimache was grinding up and ingesting one of the eyes to keep herself alive, and she put shards of it into the fountain water to make us strong.” The high priestess was unaware that I knew she had put those pieces in the fountain, that I’d made the connection after she admitted that she’d used the eye to strengthen the priestesses and acolytes.
She had been surprised when we fought because I was strong enough to beat her. She apparently didn’t know that Maia, our mentor, had been sending us the fountain water to protect us.
“Lysimache also wanted me to marry Xander and create a distraction for the city so that Artemisia could carry out her plan.” I didn’t know what that plan was other than murder and destruction, but I would find out.
“Why did Theano ... er, Lysimache keep herself alive for so long?” Ahyana wondered.
“She was waiting for the savior. She wanted to stop me from saving Ilion.” I felt a bit foolish saying those words. I had told Lysimache that I was the savior, and in the moment I had believed it.
But now, in the light of day ...
Io believed so fervently that I was the prophesied savior. When she was a little girl, she had made a promise to the goddess to protect the savior—a person who was flame-kissed and bore the mark of the goddess.
I had been in a building full of flames and not been burned while my husband had nearly died. The goddess had changed my hair color to red, like a flame. And her mark was on my shoulder, where Io had sealed a stab wound with Lysimache’s official seal.
Arguably, I was the worst possible person to be Ilion’s savior. Until recently I would have gladly seen the entire nation burn.
But there were so many innocents in Ilion. And there were people I loved here. My adelphia. My sister, Quynh, who had fallen in love with Thrax, a man I was still attempting to be nice to so that I wouldn’t risk my relationship with her. This would be her home, and so I would do what I could to keep it safe.
They aren’t the only ones you love,a voice whispered. Xander’s face filled my mind and I shook my head in response. That wasn’t something I could even allow myself to consider. I knew that we had to work together, rely on one another, so that we could survive what was coming. We were still physically linked—whatever injury happened to one of us happened to the other.
Io had discovered that Xander and I could break the link by consummating our marriage, but I had made vows to the goddess to remain celibate. I had to honor the goddess’s laws and abstain from what a life mage had called “pleasures of the flesh” so that I would be able to wield the eye and restore Locris.
My skin heated as I thought back to when Io had drugged her brother with honeyed wine and he had attempted to seduce me—and very nearly succeeded before I realized what she had done.
He was too tempting.
And he currently seemed determined to keep me at arm’s length. We hadn’t had a chance to truly speak about our relationship since the massacres in Lycia and the temple, and I didn’t know where we stood.
Because the last time I had attempted to broach the subject with him, he’d declared that he hadn’t meant any of the things he’d said to me while under the honeyed wine’s influence. I didn’t believe him.
But I wasn’t sure what to do about it.
“You will stop Artemisia,” Io said, bringing me out of my thoughts. “No matter what you think, you are the savior. You will make her pay with her life for what she’s done.”
Io’s recent thirst for vengeance concerned me. She had always been the strongest acolyte, the one who had worshipped the goddess her whole life. In the past she had always tried to protect life, so it felt very strange to hear her calling for someone’s death.
Even if I agreed with her.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” I said. “But I do know that we will all face it together.”
“And then what?” Io asked. “After we save Ilion and find the eye of the goddess, what will you do?”
“Go back to Locris,” I said quickly. “I have to restore it and undo Lysimache’s curse. I also promised the goddess that I would reopen her temple and restore worship for her there. Now there’s no one else who can help do it. Like Ahyana said, we’re all that’s left. I have to keep my word if I expect her help.”
I was speaking about more than just that promise—I had so many to keep, whether I wanted to or not.
None of my adelphia responded and they all looked crestfallen. Remorse settled deeply into my stomach. I’d been very honest about the fact that I intended to return to my nation. My sisters had to haveknown that nothing had changed for me. That was still the plan and always would be.
“We should go home,” Zalira said.
That word, “home,” struck me. Not only because I was thinking about saving Locris but because I remembered how it had felt when my husband had said that word to me.
I will leave a guard to watch over you. Come home when you’re done.
This temple had been a home for me, but it never would be again. The palace was a home to me now, something I never would have thought possible. It made me wish for things I knew I couldn’t have.
