After one last sweep of the cave, she secured the lion hide around her neck and slung her bag across her chest. Knife in her fist, she edged out onto the lip of rock and continued to climb. It was hard going with only one blade. She was at the mercy of finding natural rivets and the shards of protruding rock that yesterday had bruised her as she fell. But the lashing snow was gone and, thanks to the griffin’s life-threads, so was her weariness.
As she hauled herself up the ice, she wondered if the legend was true, that every day an eagle ripped open Prometheus’s abdomen and feasted on his liver, then every night the organ grew back to be devoured anew.
She would find out soon enough.
She paused for a moment to catch her breath, pressing her body against the ice as she twisted to look at her surroundings.
She was at the top of the world. It was eerily quiet without the screaming wind.
The city of Colchis looked like a child’s toy beneath her, the pine forests like swathes of emerald moss. When the sun broke free of the clouds it illuminated the mountain in gleaming light, so bright it was almost blinding, like she was climbing the surface of a diamond.
The Argonauts would have reached the city by now. She hoped Jason found the fleece he so desperately craved, and they all made it back to the ship unharmed.
Dolos’s face loomed into her thoughts, his lifeless eyes staring into nothing as blood trickled down his forehead. She wobbled and pressed herself against the ice to stop herself falling. She’d killed him. She’d murdered the only man who knew the truth about Heracles. What would happen to the hero without him?
She bit down on her lip and tasted metal. It jolted her back to the mountain. She could no longer feel her hands and feet, but she had to keep going. It would all be worth it once she reached Prometheus. It had to be.
She set her eyes on the next rivet and continued to climb.
Near the crest, she reached a narrow ridge that slanted upward. She hauled herself onto it, clinging to the knife as she pulled herself up to standing and shuffled her feet sideways. It was perilously narrow. She tugged the knife free and flattened herself against the icy rock, edging slowly along its length.
She couldn’t tell if it was the hours of climbing, or being so high up, but she felt increasingly dizzy. Wisps of cloud trailed past, crisping her hair and swallowing her in hazes of gray, only to be chased away again by the blinding sun. She was reminded of the mist Athena had conjured on the Doliones’ shore. She must stay vigilant. It had been three days since she’d abandoned the Argonauts. Surely it would not be long before the gods worked out where she was going.
As she neared the top of the peak, the sun was eclipsed behind the mountain. The summit was close now.
A screech pierced the air.
She froze, heart hammering as she scoured the sky. A pair of golden wings soared above her. An eagle. She flattened herself to the mountain, expecting the bird to dive at her, but it sailed on overhead. It must be going to Prometheus.
Shuffling as fast as the ice would allow, she continued up the ridge.
The dark side of the pinnacle came into view. A sheer section of rock stretched down, as though a giant blade had sliced a chunk out of the mountain. The vertical drop was swathed in shadow and ended in a bed of snow, heaped on the crag below. She slowed as she caught sight of a figure chained to the rock.
Whatever she’d expected, it wasn’t this.
Prometheus hung from the rock by rusted chains cuffed to his wrists. The Titan was the height of a mortal and skeletally thin. He looked more rotten than some of the corpses on Lemnos. A circle of iron that would have once fitted his neck balanced loosely on his collar bones, and his spindly arms looked like they’d long ago been dislocated from holding the weight of his body. He was wrapped in furs like she was, but his extremities were bare and blackened with frostbite. He was missing several fingers, and the tip of his nose and his ears were gone.
The eagle swooped down and landed on the iron ring around Prometheus’s neck. The Titan didn’t flinch as the bird clawed its way up his face and prized his scarred lips apart with its talons.
Danae stared in horror as the bird proceeded to regurgitate into Prometheus’s mouth. It wasn’t torturing him. It was feeding him.
Its task complete, the eagle launched itself into the air, leaving Prometheus with fresh scratches on his face and neck. His head lolled to one side, eyes closed.
She waited until the bird was out of sight, then edged along the last stretch of ridge and climbed up onto the snowy crag beneath the Titan.
“Prometheus?”
He didn’t move.
She raised her voice against the whistling wind. “I’m the one from your prophecy.”
It was somehow even colder than it had been on the ridge. They were completely exposed to the elements.
Prometheus’s left eye cracked open.
Her heart clattered against her ribs. “I am the last daughter.”
Both eyes opened. There was a heavy pause as they stared at each other. She waited. Maybe he hadn’t heard her.
