She stared at their tiny needled ends. They looked so small, so harmless.
Suddenly, one of the stuffed birds moved. Danae lurched back, nearly falling over a stack of crates as the buzzard flexed its tawny wings.
“Don’t mind Glaux,” said the old woman, delving into a clay jar and feeding the bird a maggot. “Now, pass me that.”
As Danae proffered the basket, she noticed a piece of jewelry on the workbench. It looked like a small gold medallion, a bow and arrow stamped into the metal, its chain wrapped around a tiny piece of parchment. Polyxo snatched it and tucked it into her tunic pocket.
“Tell me, child.” The mantis drew a bowl toward her, containing the flaked remains of a shredded snakeskin. “What did he sound like?”
“Who?” Danae was captivated by the motion of Polyxo’s hands as the old woman mashed the scales with a pestle.
“The Lord of the Sea. What did he sound like when he spoke to you?”
The beach. The lie. She had forgotten.
“Angry.”
“How did his words come to you?” Polyxo dipped a finger into the bowl and licked it. She added a pinch of herbs.
Sweat was pooling at the gathered waist of Danae’s tunic. “I just heard him, inside my head.” She was starting to feel nauseated, the sticky heat and muddle of aromas adding to the pounding inside her skull.
“Hmmm.” Polyxo set down the pestle and her hand drifted to a tiny bottle containing a milky liquid.
Then the sound of a horn blasted through the air. Danae backed away, a set of claws from one of the stuffed birds catching her scalp. She cried out, ducking away from its talons.
“The hunters have returned,” said Polyxo.
“I should go,” Danae mumbled, not waiting for a reply before stumbling through the doorway and breaking into a run.
She sprinted around the side of the Hunters Hall and felt a rush of relief when she spotted Hylas in the clearing.
“Daeira.” He beamed as she approached. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Hylas,” she said breathily, “do you remember what happened last night, after the feast?”
A line formed between his brows.
“It’s all a blur. I remember sitting around the fire and then... I just woke up in one of the tree huts—”
At that moment, the hunters came streaming into the clearing. Hypsipyle was striding at the helm, a horn pressed to her lips. Behind her, carrying a large boar trussed to a pole, were Atalanta and Peta.
Jason emerged from behind the effigy of Artemis, walked straight up to Hypsipyle and kissed her on the lips. The queen dropped her horn and pressed her body into his, raking her fingers through his hair.
Danae glanced around. No one seemed shocked by the display, as though the pair were a long-married couple. When they finally drew apart, Hypsipyle took Jason’s face in her hands.
“Your warrior earned her first talisman today. Atalanta brought down the boar with a single arrow.”
Atalanta was beaming.
Hylas leaned into Danae and whispered, “Where is her armor?”
How could she not have noticed? Gone was Atalanta’s silver breastplate, replaced by the same leather tunic the other hunters wore. She’d even shaved her head to the temples and her braids were woven into a single plait.
“She never removes her armor. In all the time I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her without it.”
Danae watched Atalanta basking in the praise of hunters and Argonauts alike as they clustered around her. The lines permanently etched between her brows were gone. Danae realized it was the first time since joining Heracles’s group that she had seen Atalanta genuinely smile.
Heracles.
