The wooden frameshudderedas something heavy struck it from the outside. Again. Then again.“Achilles!”the king slurred. “I need you to find the fucking queen!” His bellow staggered down the corridor, thick and stumbling, before fading into some other drunken tirade.
“He’s completely pissed,” Achilles hissed. “Hide yourselves,” he said, pointing to the next room.
“Achilles!”The doorrattledagain, harder this time, the wood groaning in protest as the iron latch held. A curse rang out, followed by a heavy thud as Menelaus lost his footing and went down.
The king moaned as if his fall had mortally wounded him.
If only.
I heard soldiers rush to him. “Gods, he’s down. Lift him, lift him!” one called, his voice breaking with effort. Another cursed under their breath as Menelaus groaned, their scuffling footsteps dragging him to his feet. “Up, Your Majesty.”
The palace walls suddenly lurched, groaning like the earth was in pain, and the floor bucked beneath me. I went down hard, my shoulder cracking against the floor. Achilles hit the floor beside me with a grunt, reaching instinctively to shield me even as he fell. Alcmene crumpled near the doorway, her palms scraping against the floor as she tried to brace herself.
Through the balcony doors came frantic shouts from the palace gardens, voices rising from below—alarms, commands, cries that bled together in panic. “There’s something out there!”
More voices followed. Armor clattered.
“Take him—now!” I heard the unmistakable sound of struggle as soldiers hauled Menelaus away.
Achilles tensed and he jumped up and rushed to the balcony, throwing the doors wide as wind and dust poured into the room. I struggled to my feet, listening as the soldiers aided the king, until only the echo of their steps remained.
“Stay back,” Achilles muttered without turning. “Don’t let them see you.”
I peered around him, my body half hidden in the shadows, my heart battering loudly from everything that had just happened.
Out on the red sea, something moved.
Not the waves, or the mist.
A figure. Aman. Walking across the water.
Not wading.Walking. The tide rippled away from his feet in precise concentric rings as the sea held him up.
A glow clung to him, dim at first, like the last trace of starlight before dawn. Then it brightened and warmed, shifting into something that pressed against my skin in warning. It wasn’t holy or divine … but something unnatural in a way I could not name. Something that did not belong to this world anymore.
He neared the shoreline with unhurried grace, as if time bent itself around him. As if he had all the power in the world and didn’t need to run to prove it.
Guards scrambled along the battlements, some calling down to the others, their shouts frantic, voices cracking. Bows were raised, arrows notched. But not one arrow flew.
They wereterrified.
The figure kept walking, each step a shudder through the silence, each breath a pressure building in the dark, waiting to break.
I pressed a hand to my mouth as my knees nearly gave. “What is he?” I whispered.
Achilles’s eyes narrowed, not with fear, but with a flicker of doubt I had never seen in him before. A shadow of hesitation cut across his face, as though for the first time, he was unsure if his strength alone would be enough.
The torchlight behind us sputtered as another gust of wind swept into the room, laced with salt and something else. The air itself seemed toquake.
Somewhere deep inside me, I felt it, the turning of something vast and unseen.
Chapter43
Alcmene’s hand suddenly clamped around my wrist.
“We can worry aboutthatlater,” she hissed, dragging me back from the balcony. “Right now, we need to take advantage of this and get you in your quarters before Menelaus remembers he was looking for you.”
I stumbled after her, casting one last look at the figure on the water. Dread pooled low inside me, tightening with every step he took toward shore.
