Since arriving on Delos she could not shake the feeling that she was failing. It didn’t help that she occasionally caught Metis stealing glances at her, a wary ember burning in the woman’s eye. Danae knew what it was that Metis saw. She stood in the light, yet her heart remained in shadow. Even now, as the sun bronzed her skin, it could not reach the darkness that had settled deep within her chest. Part of her was still buried in the Underworld, and she did not know if it would ever find its way out.
She breathed in the salty tang of the ocean and rooted her feet to the seabed, just as her father had taught her, then waited for the sand to settle.
If you’re still for long enough, Danie, you’ll become invisible.
When the gleam of a silver fin came weaving through the water, she let her spear fly. A pale cloud of sand rose around the buried shaft, but when it cleared, it revealed no fish impaled upon the wood.
Reclaiming her weapon with a murmur of frustration, she poised again.
Use your power, said the voice.
Danae squeezed her eyes shut, as if banishing her sight would quiet the voice.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘This is a part of me you cannot have.’
I am part of you too.
She grew still again and waited, breathing with the ebb and flow of the tide. Soon came another dart of silver. Swift as lightning cracking through the sky, her spear sliced the water and this time found its mark. Smiling, she tugged free the still writhing fish and tossed it into the basket. She waded in a little deeper and was about to still herself again when she caught sight of a dark shape atop the waves.
A rowing boat was heading towards the bay.
Her pulse quickened as the vessel drew close enough for her to make out Telamon’s flame-red hair.
As she waded out to meet the boat, her heart constricted. She could not see Atalanta.
‘Telamon!’ she shouted, waving her arms. He glanced over his shoulder at her. He looked pale, his face drawn, the skin beneath his eyes puckered with shadows.
As the boat drew nearer she caught a gleam of silver armour by his legs and the edge of a body lying curled in the belly of the vessel.
‘Atalanta! Is she all right?’
Telamon pulled in the oars and leapt out of the boat, grabbing the lip and dragging it towards the shore.
Danae splashed after him.
Once the boat was aground, Telamon drew his sword and spun around to face her. ‘Where is he?’
‘Heracles is alive, he’s with Metis.’ She gestured towards the hill.
‘You should never have taken him from us.’ Telamon’s eyes simmered with a swell of rage that looked as though it had been brewing ever since she left them on the clifftop.
‘If you’d told me Eurystheus was lying in wait, I wouldn’t have had to improvise.’
‘I had it under control.’
‘Really? You were tied up.’
Telamon bared his teeth. ‘You know nothing.’
‘I know that Heracles would have died if I hadn’t brought him here.’
She wanted to remind Telamon that she’d saved his brother, Peleus, back on theArgo, and if it weren’t for her none of the Argonauts would have left the island of Lemnos alive. But no one knew what she’d done on that cursed shore, that she’d caused the fire that turned the tide of the battle against the murderous hunters of Artemis. She’d never let any of the Argonauts close enough to really know her. How could she expect them to trust her, when she had never trusted them?
Atalanta mumbled something inaudible. Telamon lowered his sword, and Danae rushed to the side of the boat. The warrior was slumped against the planks, her skin tinged with a green hue, her limbs slicked with sweat. Danae’s eyes travelled down to the makeshift bandages she’d wrapped around Atalanta’s legs back in the Underworld.Even at this distance the smell told her the burns were infected.
‘How long has she been feverish?’
‘Two days.’ Telamon glanced down at his companion, his voice tinged with worry. ‘That clue you gave us was useless. We ended up sailing around the blasted Cyclades for days until we spotted that flying horse of yours and followed it here.’
