‘I …’ she tried to find the words, but where could she even begin? As she recalled the night she’d left the Argonauts a year earlier in the forest outside the city of Colchis, shame roiled in her stomach. She pictured the blood trickling between Dolos’ eyes, Heracles’ lion hide propped on the stake outside his tent, the image the omphalos shard had shown her of a lone figure climbing the Caucasus Mountains.
The omphalos shard. Hades had it, along with Hylas and her other possessions that had been stowed in the horse’s saddle bag, probably somewhere in his palace. The barge journey to Tartarus felt as though it had taken an age – even if Charon could guide her, it would take too long to go searching for it.
‘There’s no time to explain, but I will if we get out of here, I promise. Just know that if I could have done things differently, I would have.’
Atalanta’s knife clattered to the ground. In two heartbeats she crossed the space between them, her fist slamming into Danae’s jaw.
‘Atalanta!’ called Telamon. ‘Remember what she can do!’
Pain blossomed across Danae’s face as she hit the floor, but she stayed limp as Atalanta rained down blows upon her.
‘Fight back, gods damn you!’
The onslaught ended as Charon dragged Atalanta away. The warrior shoved him off, panting, gaze still fixed on Danae.
‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ she spat in between breaths.
‘The collar,’ Danae winced as she pushed herself to her feet. ‘It cuts me off from my powers.’
Charon made an urgent motion with his hands, gesturing to the passage ahead with his staff.
‘Atalanta,’ said Telamon, taking a couple of steps in the other direction. ‘Come on.’
Neither woman moved.
‘I left because of Dolos,’ said Danae.
At her admission Telamon grew still.
‘You know what really happened to him, don’t you?’ growled Atalanta.
Danae drew a breath. ‘I followed Dolos the night I left. I discovered him meeting with a shade in the forest. I killed it, thinking it was going to attack him, but it was bringing him Heracles’ medicine from Olympus. He revealed that Heracles isn’t a demi-god. Not in the way we think. His strength comes from that blue potion Dolos fed him under Zeus’ instruction. I left the bag of strength elixir by his tent because Dolos told me that without it he’d be dead within a year.’ Her pulse raced at a sickening speed, but she forced herself to continue. ‘Dolos stabbed me to prevent me telling Heracles and I … I killed him.’
She felt giddy. It was liberating, after all this time, to finally tell the truth.
‘You killed him,’ repeated Atalanta, her voice low and dangerous.
Danae held her gaze. ‘It was self-defence.’
‘If any of that is true,’ said Telamon, ‘why didn’t you return to camp and tell us? Why steal Heracles’ lion hide and flee?’
Because I am prophesied to destroy Zeus, because I saw a vision of myself alone climbing the Caucasus Mountains, because I am a Titan. Whatever that means.
‘I didn’t know if I could trust you.’
Atalanta stooped to retrieve her knife. ‘I’ve heard enough.’
‘I know where Heracles is. The Missing too. We can save them.’
Atalanta advanced, her blade raised. ‘Liar.’
‘Wait.’ Telamon stared at Danae. ‘If she can take us to Heracles we should go with her.’
The warrior spun to face him. ‘You believe her now?’
‘No … I don’t know,’ he ran a hand through his flame-red hair, ‘but what choice do we have? The Underworld is vast, it took us long enough just to find this place.’
‘She murdered Dolos!’
