A blur of movement cut through the crowd as one last hooded figure suddenly lunged for the throne, a knife flashing in his hand.
I gasped as Achilles surged forward and hit the assassin with bone-rattling force. The knife glanced off his sword in a shriek of metal before Achilles tore it from his grip and drove him down. The sound of the man’s skull striking the ground carried across the courtyard, silencing every whisper.
Theron began to clap, each beat punctuating the quiet. “Well,” he said, his violet eyes flashing toward me. The look lingered a breath too long, searing,predatory, like he’d peeled me out of the crowd and stripped me bare before sliding his gaze back to Achilles. “Did you enjoy that one? Better late than never, as they say.”
The air thickened as Achilles’s shoulders went rigid, his grip tightening around his sword hilt until the leather creaked. His glare could have split stone, his eyes locked on Theron with a fury that begged for release.
Theron only smirked, as though Achilles’s rage was nothing but kindling to his fire.
“Take him back to his cell,” Menelaus growled, finally finding his voice in the melee.
It took a second for the guards to obey. Their footsteps held the slow uncertainty of men who knew they held no power. But once again Theron didn’t resist. He simply turned and walked calmly between them.
Menelaus lurched from his throne, the talismans around his neck shaking and clanging as he moved. “Achilles! Dione! With me!” he bellowed, storming down the steps, his robe snapping around him as guards scrambled to part the way. Achilles moved at once, his sword still in hand as he fell in behind the king. The High Priestess gathered her ivory robes and also swept after them, her beaded braids flying loose behind her.
The crowd broke into frantic murmurs the instant their figures disappeared beyond the gates. Robes rustled, jewels clinked, fans fluttered like panicked birds. Words hissed and tangled together until the whole courtyard thrummed with anxious noise.
Beside me, Alcmene leaned forward, her eyes wide in shock.
“Happy Thesmophoria,” I whispered in a high, trembling voice, words meant for her alone. No one else could have heard me.
Which was why I froze when laughter drifted in from the shadows, smooth and arching through the air. A sound that didn’t belong to either of us … yet answered me all the same.
My head snapped toward the palace steps.
Theron was nearly swallowed by the archway, his violet eyes glinting as he glanced back over his shoulder. His laugh deepened, rich and mocking, as if he’d heard every word.
The sound echoed long after he disappeared inside.
Chapter47
Ipaced the length of my chambers until the floor might have known my steps by heart.Stay, I’d been told again. As if walls could actually protect me from assassins … or magic.
Who had attacked us?
What was the king hunting?
And what, exactly, did Theron want?
The questions spilled out of me in a low murmur, spoken to the empty room because there was nowhere else to put them. I crossed to the balcony, then turned back again, the motion restless and useless. I dragged a hand through my hair and exhaled, forcing myself toward a chair, as though sitting might convince my body to relax.
A sudden frantic scratching broke the silence, snapping my attention to the wall. Roz was up on its hind legs, tail flicking behind it as it furiously clawed at the stone.
“What’s wrong?” I murmured, rising from my chair. The embers in the hearth had burned down, and shadows were crowding the corners, making Roz’s pale eyes glow unnervingly bright in the dim.
But Roz didn’t stop. Its scratching only grew more desperate, squeaks spilling from it in high, urgent bursts.
“Roz,” I tried again, but it kept clawing, as if possessed.
I hurried to it, my heart thudding as I examined the wall. There was a hairline crack running down the stone where its claws struck. Frowning, I pressed my fingers to it, jumping when the wall shifted under my hand. A rush of cool air slipped out, brushing my skin. I froze, gaping.
“Gods, Roz …” My voice caught. “You’ve found a passage.”
It squeaked again, tail lashing.
I swallowed hard, then tugged at the seam. The stone groaned open, revealing a narrow tunnel that yawned into darkness.
For a moment, I just stood there, staring down it. Roz’s body went taut, its tail lashing once. A squeak burst from it … and then it bolted. Gray fur blurred down the tunnel as its claws skittered on the stone. Roz’s eyes briefly glimmered back at me, two cold sparks in the dark—before they winked out.
