‘The island is calledDelos– likeDolos. It was all I could think of in the moment.’
‘An island that sounds like the healer.’ Telamon glared at her. ‘Your riddle was the man you killed. You have a twisted mind, you know that?’
‘I told you, it wasn’t like that.’
They glared at each other until Atalanta gave another pitiful groan. Telamon looked back at his companion, his anger fading.
‘I don’t know if she’s going to make it.’ In all the time they’d spent together, Danae had never heard him sound so afraid.
‘She will,’ Danae said firmly. ‘The woman who saved Heracles will cure her.’
‘A healer?’
‘Of sorts … she’s like me.’
Telamon frowned. ‘She has –’
Before he could finish the sentence, he and Danae were hurled apart as a wall of sand erupted between them, the grains rapidly circling Telamon and the little boat in a glittering maelstrom. The metal of Telamon’s sword flashed from within the tempest, but it was quickly thrown from his grasp as he tried to slice through the sand, the grains spinning so swiftly they ripped the weapon from his fingers. Danae scrabbled to her feet as Metis approached from the edge ofthe rocks. The woman’s arms were outstretched, two streams of life-threads pouring into a swirling prison.
‘Stop! They’re my friends!’ Danae shouted, but Metis either could not hear or would not heed her.
So, she drew her own life-threads into her hands and whipped a stream of wind towards Metis. It caught her in the chest, and she stumbled. The sandstorm wavered. Then Metis split her arms, strengthening the cage of gritty grains whirling around Telamon and Atalanta, while hoisting Danae into the air with another torrent of life-threads.
Danae gasped as the ropes of false wind tightened around her chest, arms and legs. She pressed her own life-threads against the binds but it was like trying to bend metal with bare hands. Metis looked as though she was barely expending any energy, her face serene while her dark hair whipped about her cheeks. Danae couldn’t help but marvel at her control. She had two of them incapacitated without a single bead of sweat gleaming on her brow.
‘You are not welcome here.’ Metis’ voice sliced through the wind.
‘Metis,’ Danae shouted. ‘I can explain!’
‘You foolish girl.’ The woman’s face twisted with rage. ‘How many others have you told about me? The Olympians will come. Zeus has spies everywhere.’
‘Only these two. Only they know!’
From his sandy gaol, Telamon called, ‘We are Heracles’ companions! We mean no harm. We’ve come to take him with us, that is all!’
Metis’ eyes darted between him and Danae. Slowly, she lowered her arms, and Danae tumbled to the ground while the swirling grains slowed, then fell back to earth like fresh snow.
Danae winced as she pushed herself to standing. ‘I’msorry,’ she said to Metis, ‘I should have warned you – I told them to come here, but I’d lost hope of them finding us. Telamon and Atalanta helped rescue Heracles and a group of the Missing from the Underworld. They’re allies.’
Metis glowered at her, then flicked her gaze to Telamon, eyes raking over his fallen sword and battle-hardened limbs.
‘You said two. Where’s the other one?’
‘Here,’ Telamon gestured to the boat. His movements were slow and smooth as though Metis were a mountain lion he was trying not to provoke. ‘She’s gravely ill.’
Metis paced towards him and peered into the boat. She sniffed and wrinkled her nose, then lifted the edge of one of the makeshift bindings around Atalanta’s legs. The warrior moaned, and Metis sucked a breath through her teeth.
‘Her legs were burned by Typhon, the dragon,’ Danae said as she hurried to Metis’ side. ‘Can you heal them?’ Before the woman could reply she added, ‘I know she’s not of your island but please, I will do anything, I –’
Metis raised a hand, and Danae fell silent. The woman pressed her lips together.
‘Forgive me,’ Telamon said smoothly – now all courtly grace, though his eyes remained fixed on Metis. ‘Due to the nature of our arrival I quite forgot my manners. May the Twelve see you and know you,’ he bowed, and Metis’ eyebrows crept up her forehead. ‘I swear on the Styx, all we want is to collect Heracles and leave you in peace.’
The woman barked out a laugh. She glanced at Danae. ‘You’ve not told thesefriendsmuch, have you?’
‘What is she talking about?’ asked Telamon.
Danae bit the inside of her cheeks. They still did not know she was a Titan, or the truth about the false gods. But now was not the time for revelations.
