“What?”
“Do it!”
She released him. There was a crash on the other side of the wall.
Her rescuer scrabbled forward and dragged himself through the gap. But before he could get to his feet, a hand lunged through the crack and clamped around his ankle.
Danae bent down and grasped the sword. It was so heavy she could barely lift it. She tried to jab the attacker’s arm but ended up swinging the blade dangerously close to her rescuer’s head.
“Holy Tartarus, watch it!”
He kicked out, but his assailant clung on like a limpet. Then he whistled.
A moment later, a mass of fur hurtled toward them and launched itself at the hand. There was a cry from beyond the wall and the now bloody arm retreated.
“Good boy, Lithos,” her rescuer panted as he straightened up.
The scruffy dog barked and jumped up at his master, tail wagging. He was a strange little creature with rugged chestnut fur, white paws and only one eye. The guard gave his pointed ears a hasty scratch.
“I’ll take that.” Danae’s guard grabbed the sword and once more took her hand. He grinned at the startled expression on her face. “Come on, you’re not safe yet.”
Just as the face of a furious guard emerged through the hole, the three of them disappeared into the crowd.
They pelted through the winding streets of Delphi. Danae’s rescuer pulled her down narrow roads lined with colorful canopies, makeshift bathhouses and imposing official-looking buildings. After the amount of running she’d done in the past week, she should be used to it, but by the time they ducked under the awning of a wine merchant’s shop, she was wheezing like an old goat. The proprietor didn’t so much as blink as a guard, a dog and a ragged girl piled into his establishment.
They hurried past stacks of amphorae of all shapes and sizes. Danae’s guard brushed back a faded curtain at the rear of the shop and tugged her through. There was a small room behind, filled with a few more dusty amphorae and a battered desk scattered with scrolls.
Her rescuer set about rolling back the hessian mat and lifted the hidden trapdoor beneath, but Danae was distracted by a marking sketched in charcoal on the wall above the desk.
An apple tree.
Burning branches seared through her mind. She stumbled back. The rogue guard threw his sword down through the hole, then paused on the edge of the trapdoor.
“I’ll explain everything once we’re safe, but you need to trust me.”
Lithos scampered past Danae and leaped down into the cellar. There were voices behind her. Someone had just entered the shop.
Her options were limited. Whoever this man was, he’d freed her from almost certain death. And he’d promised her answers.
She lowered herself through the hole.
The trapdoor closed, and she was momentarily blind. Then a candle flickered into being, throwing a ghoulish light on the helmeted face of her rescuer. They were in a tiny cellar with walls of packed earth and just enough room to stand up in. It seemed empty, save for a few amphorae and a pile of blankets that Lithos had already curled up in.
The rogue guard set the candle down on the floor and pulled off his helm. He sighed and ran a hand through his short hair. His tawny-beige complexion was flushed pink, and his hazel eyes danced in the flickering light.
Now the rush of the escape was over, Danae finally noticed the ill fit of his armor; the breastplate that was too long for his torso and the over-tightened sword belt.
“You’re a criminal, aren’t you?”
Her rescuer raised an eyebrow.
“What other kind of man would spring a prisoner from the jail?”
“I am no man.”
“Oh...” Danae’s brow creased. “I thought...because of the armor. So, you’re a woman?”
“I am no woman either.” At her confused expression, the guard’s mouth stretched into a lopsided smile. “Not everything fits into a box. I’m Manto.”
