A screeching noise carved into the room, and I flinched as a rush of light spilled across the floor, illuminating its filthiness.
“Out,” the guard barked.
In the torchlight, I could now see howawfulMelitta looked, bloodied and broken. I glanced down at myself, realizing I was no better.
We moved gingerly, our bodies stiff and sore, as the guard escorted us to another, larger cell. Here, a firepit painted the grim stone walls instreaks of red and gold. Before the small fire knelt three figures, their heads bowed, hands bound.
Melitta burst into tears at the sight of my brother. His right eye was swollen shut, his throat dappled with bruises. Beside him, Xanthias was slumped forward, his filthy blond hair hanging limply around his face. As I stared at the third hunched figure, my stomach plummeted to my toes…
“Callias?” I gasped.
My friend looked up at me, his beautiful face horribly swollen.
The guard struck the backs of my legs, and I fell to my knees. He then placed a hand on Melitta’s shoulder, forcing her down beside me.
“It’s gonna be all right,” Melanthius murmured to Melitta. “I won’t let them hurt you. I swear it.”
The guard left without a word, and in the following stillness, I felt my heartbeat quicken, the previous numbness swallowed by my rising fear.
“Callias, what happened?” I whispered.
He said nothing, just kept staring at the floor with unseeing eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” I tried again.
“I told you,” he murmured, his voice frighteningly frail. “I told you it was a foolish plan.”
“Someone ratted us out,” Melanthius said. “I swear on the gods, when I find out who it was—”
“What does it matter? It’s done. It’s over.” The cut on Xanthias’s lip split as he spoke, blood streaking down his chin.
“It’s not over,” I whispered. “Not yet.”
Xanthias’s gaze slid up to meet mine. There was no fear or dread in his eyes, not even pain. There was just an abject emptiness, echoing and endless. I felt it strike deep in my core.
The door heaved open, and a terrifying figure strode in, flanked by four guards.
The king of Sparta looked exhausted. Dark circles bruised beneath his eyes, and the creases lining his face seemed even more pronouncedthan usual. He scowled, and I noticed there were still traces of last night’s wine around his lips.
Anger knotted in my stomach, thick and acidic.
What a nuisance we were, to interrupt his revelry.
He let the silence pace around us like a circling beast. The others kept their eyes down, but I met Tyndareus’s glare with one of equal fire. I would not shrink from him. What would be the point now?
Between his fingers, Tyndareus twirled a long iron rod. He then wordlessly stalked toward the firepit and placed it into the flames with a slight sigh.
“Did you know Spartans purposefully starve their sons?” he asked. He was staring into the fire as he spoke, and the shadows played across his ugly face, toying with his thick web of scars. We knew better than to reply, so we waited for him to continue. “We feed them so little that they are forced to steal to survive. If they are caught in this act, they are punished.” He twisted the rod, and I watched the triangular tip spear the heart of the flames, glowing white-hot. “But it is not the stealing we punish them for, rather their failure to stealsuccessfully. For their failure demonstrates their inability to outsmart and outmaneuver their opponents. It shows they underestimated them, and to underestimate your opponents is to disrespect them. This offense cannot go unpunished. Do you see what I am getting at here?” He turned to us, the fire burning crimson in his eyes. “I could have almost admired your bravery if you had been successful in your escape. But your little plan was so ill thought out it was simply offensive. No, no, not offensive…disrespectful.”
I felt Melitta trembling beside me as Tyndareus began pacing, his footsteps menacingly slow.
“Tell me, do you take your king for a fool? Well, surely you must if you thought such an idiotic plan could have outwitted me. Though I suppose I do haveonething to thank you for…” A smile slashed across his face. “I’ve been meaning to test out my new hunting dogs. They are rather remarkable creatures, are they not?”
“Fuck you,” I spat.
To my surprise, the king’s smile only widened.
“I take it you’re volunteering to go first then?” he asked as two guards advanced, hauling me forward.
