The giant was back. Alia thought that maybe after the wreck, in her panicked, adrenaline-fueled state, she’d exaggerated the details of her rescuer. But, no, the girl was back in the cave, and she was just as Alia remembered her—six feet tall and gorgeous, built like someone who could sell weird fitness equipment on late-night television. The Ab Blaster. The Biceps Monger.
Maybe I’m delirious. She knew she had a fever and chills, but she couldn’t make sense of her symptoms. The headache and the nausea could be the result of a concussion. No doubt she’d been banged around pretty badly when the Thetis went down. But she didn’t want to think about that—the shock of the explosion, Ray screaming, the gray weight of the water as it dragged her down. Every time her mind brushed up against it, her thoughts stuttered to a stop. Better to focus on the cave, the blanket tucked around her, the terrible pounding in her head. If it was just a bad concussion, then her job was to stay awake until help came—and she’d done it. Here was help. In the form of a girl who looked like a supermodel who moonlighted as a cage fighter. Or vice versa. But where was the rescue team? The helicopter? The EMTs to flash a light in Alia’s eyes and tell her everything was going to be all right?
“Just you?” she croaked, unnerved by how weak her voice sounded.
The girl sat down beside her. “Have you eaten anything?”
“Not hungry.”
“At least some water?” Alia didn’t have the strength. Dimly, she was aware of something being pressed to her lips. “Drink,” the girl commanded.
Alia managed a few sips. “Is help coming?”
The girl hesitated. “I’m afraid not.”
Alia opened her eyes fully. She’d succeeded in keeping her panic in check so far, but she could feel it trying to claw free. “Is it the earthquakes?” At the first tremor, Alia had dragged herself to the cave opening, terrified the rock above her would give way and she’d be crushed. But one glance at the drop to the sea had sent her scrambling backward. She’d huddled in her blanket, fighting her rising fear. One thing at a time, she’d told herself. I’m on an island—maybe there’s volcanic activity. Just wait for help to come. She’d done her part. She’d kept conscious, managed not to expend her energy on crying or screaming. So where was her rescue?
The girl’s expression was troubled, her gaze trained on her sandaled feet. Alia realized she’d changed clothes. Back on the beach she’d worn some type of white tunic, but now she was in brown leather trousers and what looked like a cross between a tank top and a sports bra. “This island is very isolated,” she said. “It’s…Contacting help wasn’t possible.”
“Then the rest of the crew…?”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could have saved them all.”
Her words didn’t quite make sense to Alia. Nothing did. She closed her eyes, the ache of tears filling her throat. Her best friend, Nim, liked to joke that Alia was a jinx because trouble seemed to follow her everywhere. Fights erupted at parties. Couples started arguing over nothing. Then there was that time a free concert in Central Park had somehow turned into a riot. It didn’t seem so funny now.
Thinking about Nim, about home, about the safety of her own bed, made the tears spill over.
“Were they your close companions?” the girl asked quietly.
“I barely knew them,” Alia admitted. “I need a doctor. There’s something wrong. I think I hit my head during the wreck. There may be internal bleeding.” Though even as she spoke, she realized that since the girl had appeared, the pain in her head had receded. Maybe she’d been more dehydrated than she realized.
“There was an explosion on your craft,” said the girl. “Before it sank.”
Alia leaned her head back against the cave wall. “I remember.”
“On the beach, you said it was your fault.”
Those words felt like a fist pressed against her heart. “I did? I must not have been thinking clearly.”
“Do you think…Is it possible it was intentional? Some kind of bomb?”
Alia’s eyes flew open. “What are you talking about?”
“Could the wreck have been deliberate?”
“No, of course not, it…” Alia hesitated. All of Jason’s paranoid warnings came back to her. We’re targets, Alia. Our money. The Foundation. We have to be smart.
Smart meant trained bodyguards on staff at the penthouse. It meant an armed driver to take her to school every morning and drop her off every afternoon. It meant no class field trips, schedules that accounted for every minute of her day so that Jason always knew where she was, summers spent in the same place each year, seeing the same people, staring out at the same view. It was a good view. Alia knew she had nothing to complain about. But that didn’t stop you, did it? She’d been happy to whine to Nim on every occasion. And she’d pretty much jumped at a chance for something new, a month spent with different people, away from Jason’s ridiculous rules.
Maybe not so ridiculous. Could someone have put a bomb aboard the boat? Could one of the crew have blown up the Thetis on purpose?
Her fears must have shown on her face, because the girl leaned forward and said, “Speak. Is it possible?”
Alia didn’t want to believe it. If someone had been willing to blow up her boat, to murder innocent people just to get at her and the Foundation, then Jason had been right about everything and she’d been the biggest fool alive.
“It’s possible,” she admitted reluctantly. “I’m a Keralis.”
“A Greek name.”
“My dad was Greek. My mom was black, from New Orleans.” People always wanted to know where the color came from. Alia reached for the water. She really did feel a little better, though her hand shook as she lifted the skin to her lips. The girl steadied Alia’s arm as she drank. “Thanks. You’ve never heard of the Keralis Foundation? Keralis Labs?”
“No. What does that have to do with the explosion?”
Alia felt suddenly wary. “Who are you?”
“I’m…My name’s Diana.”
“Diana what?”
“Why does my name matter?”
Why? Because even if this girl lived on a remote island, everyone knew the Keralis name. That was part of the problem.
How had Diana gotten to the wreck site so quickly? What if she’d known about the bomb on the boat? Alia gave her head a little shake and was rewarded with a stomach-churning wave of dizziness that left her panting. She pressed her head against the cave wall and waited for it to pass. She wasn’t thinking straight. There was no reason for a girl to try to kill her, then save her life and stuff her in a cave. “People hate my parents; now they hate me.”
“I see,” said Diana in understanding. “Did your parents slay a great many people?”
“What?” Alia cast her a sidelong glance. “They were biologists. Bioengineers. People get weird about some of the work they did in genetics and the Foundation’s politics.”
Diana’s brow furrowed, as if she was attempting to parse all of this information. “You think that’s why someone attempted to take your life?”
“Why else?”
The girl said nothing. Alia felt another tide of nausea roll through her. A cold sweat broke out over her body. “I need a doctor.”
“There’s no one on the island who can help you.”
“A clinic. A boat back to Istanbul or the nearest port.”
“It’s just not possible.”
Alia stared at Diana, feeling her panic slip free of its leash. “Then what’s going to happen to me?”
Diana looked away.
Alia pressed her palms to her eyes, humiliated to find tears threatening again. She didn’t understand what was going on, only that she’d never felt more tired or scared. Not since she was a kid. How had things gone so wrong so quickly?
“I never should have left home. Jason said to stay in New York. He said it was safer. But I wanted this so much.”
Diana drew another blanket from her bag and tucked it around Alia. It smelled of sage and lavender. “What did you want?”
“It’s stupid,” Alia said.
“Please. I’d like to know.”
Alia closed her eyes again. She felt too weak to talk, but the guilt and shame were stronger than her fatigue. “There’s this summer-at-sea program for biology students. You get college credit. It’s really hard to get into, but I thought, I’ll just apply and see what happens. But then they accepted me and I realized—”
“How very much you wanted to go.”
“Yeah,” Alia said with a small smile. She felt it fade from her lips. “I lied to Jason.”
“Who is this Jason?”
“My older brother. He’s a great brother, the best brother. He’s just overprotective. I knew he’d say no to the trip, so I told him I’d been invited to Nim’s parents’ place in Santorini. You don’t know how hard it was to keep everything secret. I had to get a visa, get all of these medical approvals, but then I was just doing it. I ditched my bodyguards at the airport, and I didn’t call Jason until I was about to board the Thetis in Istanbul.” Alia released a sob. “He was so angry. I swear, I’ve never heard him raise his voice, but he was yelling. He forbade me—forbade me from going. I hung up on him.”
“Does he command you frequently?” Diana asked. “Many men enjoy having authority over women. Or so I’ve been told.”
Alia snorted, but Diana looked serious. “Well, sure, but Jason’s not like that. He was just worried about me, trying to keep me safe. I thought if I could show him that I could handle this on my own, he’d have to stop babying me.”
Diana sighed. “I understand. My mother doesn’t think I can handle anything on my own, either.”
“Are you kidding? You saved my life. You carried me to a damn cave on your back. You seem pretty capable.”
“In my family, among…my friends, I’m the weak one.”
“You don’t seem weak to me.”
Diana gazed at her for a long moment. “You don’t seem weak to me, either.”
Alia blew out a breath. “But Jason was right. If I had stayed in New York, if I’d just listened to him, no one would have died. I should never have left home.”
Diana frowned. “If you’d stayed home, maybe others would have been harmed. Your friends or your family.”
“Maybe,” Alia said, but the thought brought her little comfort.
“And you had this dream,” continued Diana, “to study, to garner accolades.”
“Well, college credit, at least.”
“How could it be wrong to wish to prove yourself?” she asked, a fierce light in her eyes. “You were not wrong to dare.”
“Jason—”
“Jason cannot protect you forever. We cannot spend our lives in hiding, wondering what we might accomplish if given the chance. We have to take that chance ourselves. You were brave to board that boat.”
“I was stupid. Everything that happened just proved Jason right.”
“No. You survived the wreck. When the waves came, you held on. Maybe you’re stronger than you think you are, than anyone thinks you are.” Diana stood. “Maybe I am, too.” She offered Alia her hand. “We have to get you out of here.”
“I thought you said—”
“I know what I said. Do you want to get off this island or not?”
Alia had no idea what had caused this turnaround, but she wasn’t going to look a gift giant in the mouth. “Yes,” she said eagerly. She took Diana’s hand and rose slowly, trying to fight the surge of dizziness that overtook her. “What do we do? Do you have a boat or something?”
“It’s more complicated than that. I’m going to need you to trust me. The people here…There are terrible risks, and the things you see…well, if we make it out of this, you can never speak of them again.”
Alia raised her brows. Was this girl messing with her, or was she a little nuts? “Okay, sure.”
“Swear by what is most dear to you.”
Maybe more than a little nuts. “I swear on Jason and Nim and my shot at an Ivy League school.”
Diana cocked her head to one side. “It will have to do.” She turned her back to Alia and said, “Climb on.”
Alia groaned. “Do we really have to do this again?” She wasn’t feeling particularly spry, but there was something humiliating about jumping on someone’s back like a five-year-old.
Diana shrugged and said, “See for yourself.”
After her first terrifying glance down, Alia had deliberately avoided the entrance to the cave, but now she gathered the blankets around her shoulders and peered over the edge again. The drop to the rocky boulders below looked even steeper than it had that morning.
Holding tight to Diana’s hand and the ragged rock of the cave mouth, she looked up. Somehow the sheer cliff rising into the stormy sky seemed twice as terrifying as the drop.
“We’re going to climb that?” she asked.
“I’m going to climb that.”
“With me on your back?”
“You’re very light. I wonder if you have a calcium deficiency.”
“My calcium’s just fine.”
“Your muscle tone is poor, too.”
“I prefer the pursuits of the mind,” Alia said loftily.
Diana looked doubtful. “Most philosophers agree that mind and body must be in accord.”
“Is that like four out of five dentists?” Alia asked. Besides, she doubted most philosophers ever had to play dodgeball in the Bennett Academy gym.
She sighed. Even at her best, the climb would have been close to impossible for her, and she was definitely not at her best. She eyed Diana warily. Alia had never thought of herself as short, but next to this person, she felt about as statuesque as a miniature schnauzer. It wasn’t just that the girl was tall; she was sort of majestic. Like a skyscraper. Or Mount Rushmore, but less craggy.
Alia straightened her spine. “Okay, we do it your way.”
Diana nodded and turned, gesturing for Alia to clamber onto her back. Alia hopped on, and the girl hooked her hands beneath Alia’s knees, shifting her into place like an oversized backpack. So much for dignity.
“Giddyup,” Alia said sourly.
“Pardon?”
“On, you huskies?”
“I am not your steed,” Diana said, but she trotted—jogged—to the mouth of the cave. Without warning, she dug her fingers into the rock and swung outside. Alia squeezed her eyes shut and held on tight, trying not to think of the unforgiving boulders below.
“So,” she said, chin tucked over Diana’s shoulder, attempting to distract herself. “Now that we’re hanging off the side of a cliff together…any hobbies?”
“My mother is trying to get me to take up the lyre.”
“Interesting choice. Siblings?”
“No.”
“Any nicknames?” Alia felt the girl’s muscles tense beneath her.
“No.”
Maybe that was enough small talk.
Diana’s body moved in stops and starts as she searched for holds, making steady progress up the cliff. Occasionally, she would grunt sharply or mutter, but she wasn’t panting or grumbling the way Alia would have been.
Just as Alia was wondering how much cardio this girl did, the cliff shook with a tremor. Diana’s foot slipped. They dropped.
A cry escaped Alia’s lips as her heart lodged in her throat. They jerked to a rough halt, dangling in the air, supported by nothing except Diana’s right hand jammed into the rock. Alia could see blood trickling from somewhere between her fingers.
The urge to look down, to see how far they’d come, how far there was to fall overtook her. Don’t do it, her logic centers commanded. But the rest of her nervous system was in full flight-or-fight mode. She looked down. Dizziness washed through her. There was nothing below but roiling sea and hulking black rocks, whitecaps smashing to foam on the humps of their backs.
Alia looked up at Diana’s bleeding fingers slipping slowly from their hold. Her own hands felt sweaty; her body was sliding. She wriggled to keep her grip.
“Stay still,” barked Diana. Alia froze.
Diana released something between a roar and a grunt and shoved her body upward, swinging her left arm overhead. For a moment, Alia thought they were falling. Then Diana’s fingers found purchase, her toes dug in, and they were wedged against the rock once more.
Alia felt the tension in Diana’s back, the contraction of her muscles. They were moving again, higher and higher. Alia didn’t risk another glance down. She shut her eyes and, long moments later, Diana was hauling them over the top of the cliff. Alia rolled off her, and for a moment they just lay there.
Diana leapt to her feet, dusting herself off. She offered Alia a hand.
“Give me a minute,” said Alia, trying to get her heart rate to return to normal.
“Why are you tired?”
“We almost died!”
Diana cocked her head to one side. “Do you think so?”
“Yes.” What was wrong with this girl?
Alia took the offered hand and they stood. The clouds above them were knotted with thunderheads, and the wind tore at their hair. She touched the braids at her scalp. They were uncomfortably stiff with salt and sand.
The beginnings of another storm, or maybe the same storm that had caught the Thetis was moving in. She peered along the coastline but could see no lighthouse or harbor, no signs of civilization at all. This place really was isolated.
Alia didn’t want to look at the sea, but she did anyway, searching for some sign of the Thetis and its crew. Jasmine, Ray, Luke, Dr. Ellis—Just call me Kate, she’d said. But they’d called her Dr. Ellis anyway. What had Ray and Jasmine been arguing about when the winds had picked up? They’d been blown off course, their instruments giving readings that made no sense, and everyone seemed to be blaming everyone else.
The crew had been sniping at one another since they’d boarded. Alia had kept to herself, feeling a sinking sense of disappointment. Her month aboard the Thetis was supposed to show Jason that she’d be safe on her own, but it was also supposed to give her a chance to make some new friends away from Bennett Academy, and to escape the tension that seemed to follow her everywhere lately. Instead, the trip had been more of the same. Ray and Luke had actually started shoving each other over a playlist, of all things. And now they were gone.
“Maybe we should stay where we are,” said Alia. She’d been feeling pretty awful before Diana had shown up, but now that she was out of the cave, her lungs were clearer and she felt a bit less woozy. “They’ll send search parties for the ship. Maybe we can find a way to signal from shore.”
Diana shook her head. “No one is going to find you here. No one ever does.”
Alia raised a skeptical brow. “Is this some Bermuda Triangle shit?”
“Something like that. The island is incredibly hard to reach. It doesn’t show up on any maps or charts.”
Alia waggled her fingers. “Google knows all and sees all.”
“Google,” Diana repeated. “Is Google one of your gods?”
“Hey,” said Alia. “Just because I spend time online doesn’t mean I’m totally brainwashed.”
Diana looked at her blankly, then gestured for Alia to follow. “Come on. We’re too exposed out here.”
“I’m not sure the woods are a good place to be in a thunderstorm,” Alia said. Diana bit her lip, as if she hadn’t considered that. “I’m guessing you don’t get bad weather around here?”
“Never,” said Diana. “But it has to be the woods. We can’t stay out in the open.”
A chill spread over Alia’s arms that had nothing to do with the storm or her damp clothes. “What do you mean?”
“The people on this island came here because they don’t want to be found.”
“Like you?”
“I…didn’t have a choice. I was born here. But they really don’t like outsiders.”
Alia shivered. Great, they were one step shy of a dueling-banjos scenario. Dueling lyres? Keep it together, Alia. “They’re not in some weird militia or something, are they?”
“Actually, a lot of them are…uh…military.”
Better and better. Probably a bunch of paranoid survivalists, with Alia’s luck. If they didn’t like outsiders, they definitely weren’t going to like a brown girl from New York. “And they don’t have phones? Radios?”
“No contact with the outside world.”
“What if someone gets sick or hurt?”
“That isn’t a problem here,” said Diana, then added, “Or it didn’t used to be.”
So Alia had managed to get shipwrecked on Cult Island. Perfect. “Can’t we just steal a boat or something?” she asked.
“I considered that, but the docks are full of people. They’ll notice someone taking out a craft, especially during a storm. And I think we’re going to need more than a boat to get us to Therapne.”
“Where?”
“Southern Greece. The Gulf of Laconia.”
That made no sense—not if Alia remembered her geography right. The Thetis had only been a few days out from Istanbul. Even if they’d been wildly off course, it made no sense to travel that far. Why not Thessaloniki or even Athens? “That’s hundreds of miles from here. We can’t sail all that way.”
“Of course not.”
Alia took a deep breath. Her chest hurt as if someone had punched her. Her lungs still felt waterlogged, and her body was covered in bruises. Beyond that, she felt nauseous and bleary. She needed to see a doctor. She needed to get to a real city.
Unless Diana was lying or delusional—both of which were definite possibilities—she was stuck on an island crawling with weirdos, so she needed to be smart. Play along, she told herself. This girl wants to go to southern Greece? No problem. Alia could nod and smile for as long as it took to get somewhere with a phone.
She steeled herself and followed Diana into the green hush of the forest. It was like stepping into an alien world. Alia’s parents had taken her and Jason on a trip to the Brazilian rain forest when she was little, so they could learn about some of the new species of plants being discovered there and the medicines developed from those findings. It had been a bit like this—lush, alive—and yet not like this at all. The trees here were like nothing she’d ever seen, some of them wide enough around that the Thetis could have docked in their rings with room to spare. Their roots ran along the forest floor in thick spirals, covered in vines that bloomed with widemouthed trumpet flowers. The air smelled sweet and felt almost silky on Alia’s skin, and the raindrops on every surface made the moss, leaves, and branches glint like they’d been hung with gems.
Great place for a cult.
Alia knew she should keep her mouth shut, but she couldn’t resist asking, “Why do we need to go to southern Greece?”
“Your expedition wasn’t attacked because of your parents’ work. You are being hunted.”
“Hunted,” Alia said flatly. “For my silky pelt?”
“Because you are haptandra.”
“Say again?”
“A Warbringer.”
“I’m not into gaming.”
Diana shot her a baffled look over her shoulder. “The Oracle says we must reach the spring at Therapne before the sun sets on the first day of Hekatombaion. It’s the site of Helen’s tomb, where she was laid to rest beside Menelaus. Once you and your bloodline have been cleansed in the spring, you will be a Warbringer no longer. You will never need fear for your life again.”
“Sure,” said Alia. “Makes perfect sense.”
“Hopefully, your enemies believe you’re dead, but we should be ready for anything once we’re off the island.”
I’m going to be ready to find the nearest police station and get the hell away from you, Queen Loon, Alia thought. But all she said was “Got it.”
Diana stopped abruptly and put a finger to her lips. Alia nodded understanding, then crept up behind her and peered over her shoulder through the leaves.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to see. Maybe a fort or wannabe military encampment, a bunch of rednecks in camo. Instead, she was looking down at a wide road that led into a city cut from golden stone that seemed to glow in the fading light—a fairy-tale city of arches and spires, open porches bursting with cascades of flowers, their domed rooftops and silk awnings held aloft by elegant columns.
Something was happening. Women were hurrying back and forth along the road, a sense of urgency in their movements. Some wore leather trousers and banded tops similar to Diana’s, but others were draped in bright silks. They looked less like survivalists and more like a group of performers getting ready to take the stage.
Diana met Alia’s eyes and made a gesture.
“That some kind of military thing?” Alia whispered.
“Never mind,” said Diana on an annoyed breath. “Just follow me and stay quiet. Try to walk light. For such a little person, you make a lot of noise.”
“I am not little,” Alia protested. And, okay, she wasn’t exactly graceful, but it wasn’t like she’d run into a tree or something.
They continued through the forest, picking their way between the branches. Diana was sure-footed and never stopped to rest, but Alia felt worse with every step. She had no idea how long they’d been walking, but she’d lost her canvas tennis shoes in the wreck, and despite the mossy covering on the forest floor, her feet were protesting every root, bump, and pebble.
At last, Diana came to a halt. This time she got down on her belly and caterpillar-crawled beneath a tree covered in fat green leaves. Alia stood there for a moment. Was she really doing this? She heaved a shrug, then lay down on her stomach and followed. They emerged overlooking a high-walled citadel.
“The walls have cracked,” Diana said, her voice full of a kind of miserable awe. “They’ve stood for nearly three thousand years.”
Now Alia knew the girl was nuts. There was no way this building had been around for that long. It looked brand-new, despite the big crack in one of its sand-colored walls.
As they watched, Alia saw two more women in leather trousers and tops jog beneath an arch. When they reemerged, they had another woman with them. She had only one arm and it was tattooed with what looked like—
“Is that chain mail?”
Diana nodded. “Everilde disguised herself as a knight so that she could fight in the Crusades. The tattoo covers the whole of her torso.”
“Wow. It’s like she never has to leave Ren Faire. What’s written on her shoulder?”
Diana blinked, her inky-black lashes dappled with rain. “Peace. In Arabic. She had it done when Hafsah came to the island. Both of them work in the training rooms, but with the storm and the earthquakes, they probably need as much help as they can get at the Epheseum.” Diana groaned. “My mother is going to kill me.”
“Why?”
“I should be down there, helping. Taking a leadership role.”
Alia almost laughed. Apparently, even cult kids had moms with expectations. “What is this place?”
“The Armory.”
It seemed awfully beautiful for an armory.
When the women were gone, Diana led Alia down the embankment and beneath an arch buried in flowers. Alia reached out and touched a cream-colored rose, its petals tipped with red and heavy with rain. She’d never seen a more perfect blossom, and it was nearly as big as her head.
“Gauntlet roses,” Diana said. “Jericho lilies, nasturtiums. They’re all plants associated with war or victory. My mother really loves a theme.”
“Doesn’t sound weird at all,” murmured Alia.
But when they entered the Armory, her jaw dropped. The room was a vast hexagon topped by an enormous dome. Each wall featured a different weapon: swords, axes, daggers, staffs, as well as things with spikes and prongs and creepy little barbs that Alia had no name for. The walls seemed to be organized chronologically, the oldest- and most rustic-looking weapons at the top, their sleek, modern counterparts closer to the bottom.
“No guns,” she noted.
Diana looked at her like she was daft. “The gun is the coward’s weapon.”
“Hmmm,” Alia said diplomatically. The gun was also the most effective weapon. There was a reason you didn’t see cops walking around with double axes. An anti-gun, horticulture-loving survivalist cult. Maybe they were just hippies who happened to be weapons collectors?
“What is that thing?” Alia asked, pointing to a staff topped by a giant claw.
“A zhua. It’s used for robbing a mounted opponent of her shield.”
“It looks like the world’s deadliest mop.”
Diana considered it. “Perhaps you can use it to scare the floor clean.”
They crossed the vast room, past padded floor mats and dummies clearly intended for sparring. “You guys just leave all of this lying around? Seems dangerous.”
“No weapons are permitted outside the Armory unless they have been sanctioned for exhibitions.”
“What if someone steals something?”
“How? These belong to everyone.”
Alia silently added socialist to her list of cult adjectives. Jason would not approve. But she didn’t want to think about her brother or how worried he must be. Or the fact that she might not see him again if she didn’t find a way off this island.
They walked through another archway and entered a smaller room. The light was dimmer here, filtered through the blue panels of a stained-glass dome above. The chamber was full of glass cases fitted with clever mirrors that made their contents seem to float in the blue-tinted light. It was like standing at the center of a sapphire.
The cases had no labels or plaques, and each had a different costume in it—a breastplate of pounded bronze and a pair of weathered sandals; the segmented steel and leather of what Alia thought might be samurai armor; heavy furs and beaded saddlebags; a pilot’s jumpsuit that looked like it might be from the twenties—Alia wasn’t too clear on the history of military fashion, though Nim would know. But when Alia looked closer, she saw the pilot’s jacket was riddled with bullet holes. She peered at the heavy plated armor in the case beside it. It had a hole in it, as if it had been pierced by a spear.
There was something else: the armor, the way the clothes were cut, the crowns and bracelets and boots. Alia stopped dead. They’d seen twenty or thirty people on the road into the city—and not a single man.
“Hold up,” said Alia. Diana was standing in front of a glass case at the center of the room, larger and brighter than the others, lit by white light piercing the oculus at the top of the dome. “Are there any men on this island?”
Diana shook her head. “No.”
“None?”
“No.”
“Holy shit, are you guys some kind of radical feminist cult?”
Diana frowned. “Not exactly?”
“Are you all lesbians?”
“Of course not.”
“It’s cool if you are. Nim’s gay. Maybe bi. She’s figuring it out.”
“Who’s Nim?”
“My best friend.” My only friend, Alia did not add. Jason didn’t count. And Theo was more “just a friend” than actual friend.
“Some like men, some like women, some like both, some like nothing at all.”
“But why no guys, then?”
“It’s a long story.”
“And how were you born here if there are no guys allowed?”
“That’s a longer story.” Diana turned back to the case and lifted the latch but then hesitated. Tentatively, as if she was afraid the metal might burn, she reached inside the case and took out a slender gold crown, a huge ruby cut like a star at its center.
Alia had seen a lot of big jewels on a lot of Park Avenue socialites, but nothing like that. “Who does that belong to?”
“Me, I guess. My mom had it made when I was born. But I’ve never worn it.”
“Is the ruby real?”
Diana nodded and smiled a little. “Red like the Dog Star. I was named for the huntress, Diana, and born under the constellation of her favor, Orion. The stone was cut from the stone of my mother’s crown.” Diana gestured to the wide tiara that hung suspended in the case, a far larger ruby at its center. “They’re heartstones. They act as a kind of compass.”
She popped the star-shaped ruby from its setting and returned the gold circlet to its base. “I hope no one will notice.”
“A missing ruby the size of a macaroon? Definitely not.”
Diana let her fingers trail over the other items in the case: a wide golden belt set with red jewels and hunks of topaz as big as Alia’s thumbnails; an elegant unstrung bow and an embroidered leather quiver full of arrows; a set of what looked like wide iron bracelets; and a long rope, coiled like a snake.
“We’ll need this,” Diana said, taking the lasso from the case. As Diana fastened it to her hip, it glinted brightly, as if it had been woven from something other than ordinary rope. Diana touched the cuff of one of the iron bracelets. “My mother used to bring me here every week when I was little. She’d tell me the story behind each case, all the women who came here. These are the relics of our greatest heroes. Pieces of the lives they led before they came to the island, and the battles they fought to preserve peace after. She told me all of their stories. All but hers.”
They must be heirlooms, Alia thought.
Then the bracelet Diana was touching moved.
Alia took a step backward and almost crashed into the case behind her. “What the hell?” It was as if the metal had turned molten. It slid from the case and clasped itself around Diana’s wrist. “What. The. Hell,” Alia repeated as the second bracelet slithered around Diana’s other wrist.
Diana looked just as shocked as Alia felt. She held her hands before her like a surgeon about to scrub in and stared at the bracelets, widemouthed in disbelief.
I have a concussion, Alia’s mind babbled. I definitely have a concussion. In fact, maybe I’m in a coma. I got knocked out during the explosion, and now I’m in a hospital in Turkey. I just need to wake up, because Nim is going to pee her pants when I tell her about the magical island of women.
“Maybe it’s a sign,” said Diana.
“Of what?” Alia managed to squeak.
“That my quest is just. That I’m making the right choice.”
“To help me get off the island? Absolutely. The justest.” Alia considered the rope and bracelets. Regardless of what Diana had said about people carrying weapons, if any of this was real, there could be a whole slew of cult ladies running around with battle-axes and death mops right now. “Maybe we should take something else?”
“Like what?”
“You’re the one talking about enemies hunting me. Don’t we need, like, a crossbow or a spear? Something pointy, like that sword.”
“The other artifacts? That would be stealing.”
“What about the bracelets?”
“These are my birthright.”
“Can’t we borrow something from the training rooms, then?”
“We’re not going to the spring to start a fight. We’re going there to prevent one.”
“Yeah, but you know what they say: Sometimes the best defense is a good offense.”
Diana raised a brow. “And sometimes the best defense isn’t showing up with a giant sword.”
“Says the girl who tops out at six feet and can carry me around like a knapsack. No one’s going to mess with you.”
“You’d be surprised. I—”
Another tremor tore through the floor, making the room swim with blue light.
“Move,” Diana said, seizing Alia’s arm and yanking her away from the case as it tipped sideways and smashed against the stone floor, sending splinters of glass flying. “We have to get you off this island.”
Alia tried to keep pace with Diana as they fled back through the Armory. Her head was pounding, and the nausea had returned worse than before. Chunks of rock dislodged themselves from the vast dome, crashing to the training-room mats as Diana and Alia zigzagged toward the entrance.
Diana held Alia back as they approached the arch, but their path must have been clear, because she grabbed Alia’s hand and they ran for the woods. Only when they were up the embankment and hidden by the trees did they pause. Alia felt like her chest was going to explode. She knew she was out of shape. Nim was always trying to make her do yoga, and Jason was basically in a committed relationship with his treadmill, but this was something else. Her head was spinning, the pain pushing against her skull in urgent pulses.
“I need to stop,” she said, bending double. Her vision was blurry. She felt something trickling over her lips, and when she touched her hand to her face, it came away bloody. “What’s happening to me?”
Diana took a cloth from her pack, moistened it with rainwater from the nearest branch, and gently dabbed at Alia’s mouth and nose. At her touch, Alia felt the pain recede slightly, her vision clear. “I told you—we need to get you away from the island.”
“The island is a metaphor,” Alia muttered to herself. “When we get off the island, I’ll wake up.”
“It isn’t a metaphor,” said Diana. “My home is killing you before you can destroy it. We have to keep moving. Do you want me to carry you?”
“No,” Alia said, batting Diana’s hand away. “I’m fine.”
Diana shook her head, but she didn’t argue. Alia trailed behind her, leaning on the trunks of trees when she had to, listening to the rattle of the breath in her lungs, squelching her way through soft patches of earth the rain had turned to mud. She was aware of birds taking shelter between the great green leaves, the rustle of their wings. She heard the screech of monkeys, though she saw no sign of them. This place was so alive, brimming with life, drunk on it.
What’s real and what isn’t? Alia wondered. Maybe the island was real and her perceptions were off. Her brain could have been damaged in the wreck. Her body had definitely been flooded by adrenaline. Or maybe she was lying in a hospital somewhere, being pushed into an MRI machine, and this was all a hallucination. She liked that idea a lot. They’d figure out what was wrong with her misfiring mind and they’d fix it. Science could solve anything given the time and the resources. That was what her parents had taught her and Jason. The world had a beautiful logic to it, hidden patterns that would reveal themselves if you could just learn to see them. What would they think of giant trees and jewelry that acted like a well-trained pet? They’d say there had to be an explanation. They’d find one.
Alia staggered after Diana as the woods sloped down. The trees thinned and gradually gave way to a clearing. She had the jarring sense of slipping from one world into another. They’d just left a forest dense with vegetation, crowded with flowers and brightly colored songbirds. Now she was looking at what could only be described as grasslands, long rolling hills of gently shifting reeds, gray and pale green that resolved to the colors of an overcast sky.
Alia tried to catch her breath, acutely aware that she was panting like a tired dog, while Diana didn’t seem winded at all. “This doesn’t make any sense. This kind of ecology is completely wrong for this climate.”
Diana only smiled. “The island is like that. It gives gifts.” Alia tried not to roll her eyes. “My mother never talks about life before the island,” Diana continued. “But she loves this place. I think it reminds her of the steppe.”
Diana stood for a long time, staring out at the grasses. Alia had no desire to start walking again, but she also had the distinct impression that they were supposed to be in a hurry.
“So…,” Alia began. Diana shook her head, placing a finger to her lips. “If you’re going to shush me—”
“Listen.”
“All I hear is the wind.”
“Here,” Diana said, taking Alia’s hand. She squatted down and tugged Alia with her, placing her palm against the damp earth. “Do you feel it?”
Alia frowned but then—a trembling, different from the earthquakes. It was more like the patter of rain, but that wasn’t quite right, either.
“Close your eyes,” Diana murmured.
Alia gave her a wary glance, then shut her eyes. The world went dark. She could smell the storm in the air, the deep mossy fragrance of the woods behind them, and something else, a warmer smell she couldn’t name. She heard the lonely rustle of the wind moving through the grass, and then, so faint she doubted it at first, the softest whinny. It came again, and the sounds began to coalesce with the gentle drumbeat she felt through the earth: bodies shifting together, a snort of breath, hoofbeats.
Her eyes flew open. She felt herself smiling. “Horses?” Diana grinned and nodded. They rose. “But where are they?”
“Here, in the field, the phantom herd.”
Diana unhooked the golden coil of rope from her hip and began to move through the tall grass. It came up to her thighs, almost all the way up to Alia’s waist, tickling her bare legs in an itchy way that made her think of cobwebs.
“My mother and her sisters were great horsewomen,” Diana said. “They could ride any steed and coax the best from it, land arrows while hanging from a saddle, aim upside down. When Maeve came to the island…” Diana’s voice wavered. “The phantom herd was a gift from the goddess Epona. A thank-you to Hera and Athena for granting Maeve immortality.”
Diana gestured for them to stop, and Alia saw that she had knotted the rope into a loop, forming a lasso. Diana let it swing gently from her hands, building momentum.
Alia could hear those sounds growing closer now, the rumble of hooves that seemed to echo a heartbeat, double it, treble it. The tall grass moved against the wind as if trampled by some unseen force. Alia’s mind refused it. It can’t be. It can’t.
Diana’s eyes were closed. She stood with her face tilted to the wind, listening, the lasso moving in a lazy, looping rhythm. The rope seemed to glow in her hands as she released it. It cut a long, shining path against the gray sky, then dropped around the neck of a huge white horse that hadn’t been there a moment before. It was as if the lasso had caused the horse to appear.
Alia took a step backward, heart slamming in her chest. Diana gave the lasso slack, turning in place as the horse shook its shimmering white mane in frustration, checking its stride. She tugged gently and it slowed, rearing back on its hooves and releasing a high, angry whinny.
“It’s all right, Khione,” she murmured, her voice low and soothing. “It’s just me.”
The horse danced back, tossing its mane, and Diana gave another gentle tug, the muscles of her arms shifting beneath her bronzed skin.
She whistled softly, and the horse’s ears flicked. Grudgingly, it settled, hooves landing on the grass with a sulky thump, and blew out a disgruntled breath. It walked forward as Diana reeled in the lasso. When it was close enough, she crooked an arm over the horse’s neck and patted its flank as it bumped its great head against her.
“She’s Maeve’s favorite,” Diana said, and Alia could hear the sadness and worry in her voice. She waved Alia forward with an encouraging smile. “Go on.”
Alia hesitated, then cautiously reached up to stroke the creature’s velvety nose. A lot of kids at her school rode, but she’d never seen an animal like this, white as alabaster, marble-hewn, a horse that looked as if it had leapt down from some monument at the center of a plaza. Its lashes were the same snowy color as its mane, but its eyes had no whites. They were the deep purple-black of a pansy.
The horse—the invisible horse, Alia’s mind corrected, then rejected—bowed its head, and Alia felt some tiny bit of the terror she’d been carrying since the wreck release. Suddenly, she was blinking back tears. She thought of a glass filled to its brim, the tension at its surface that kept it from spilling over. The horse was warm beneath her hand. She could see the long curl of its lashes. It was real in a way nothing else had been since the cold of the waves. If this creature was possible, then all of it might be real. It was too much.
Alia shut her eyes and pressed her forehead against the rough silk of the horse’s mane. “What did you call her?”
“Khione. It means ‘snow.’ ”
“And she was a gift?”
“Yes. When a rider sits one of the phantom herd and takes hold of its mane, she becomes as invisible as the horse.”
“How can we see her now?”
“The lasso. It always shows the truth.”
Alia took a shuddering breath that was halfway to a sob. “Can you ask the lasso if I’m going to get home?”
“It doesn’t work that way. And, Alia, you can’t go home. Not yet. People tried to kill you.”
“Because of the Foundation.”
“Because of what you are. You’re dangerous to a lot of people. We have to get you to Greece, to the spring at Therapne.” Diana whispered in the horse’s ear and then plucked several strands of Khione’s mane. Khione made a disapproving nicker but remained in place, stomping her huge hooves.
“What are you doing?” Alia asked.
“We need these to get off the island.”
Another tremor struck and the horse reared back, yanking the lasso from Diana’s hands. Diana stepped in front of Alia, arms spread wide, her expression unruffled. Khione took some skittering steps, then seemed to calm. Diana waited a few more moments before picking up the rope. She patted the horse’s flank. “It will be better soon,” she said softly. “Promise.”
Diana slid the lasso over the horse’s head, and Alia watched in wonder as Khione vanished. Magic. She was seeing real magic. The kind of magic in movies. No wands or wizards yet, but maybe if she stayed on the island long enough, a dragon would show up. It all feels so real, Alia thought as she followed Diana through the grasslands. But that was probably how delusions worked.
At some point she realized that the terrain was starting to look familiar. In the distance, she saw the sea. They’d returned to the cliffs.
“I’m not going back to the cave,” she said stubbornly.
“Not the cave,” said Diana. “The cove.”
Alia picked her way cautiously to the edge of the cliff and looked down. There was a small sandy beach carved into the coast, like the top of a question mark.
“Okay, but no way am I getting on your back again.”
“I can hitch up a sling,” said Diana, removing a length of ordinary rope from her pack.
“Not happening. I’m not going over that cliff.”
“I won’t let you get hurt.”
“You know what, Diana? We just met, so maybe you haven’t picked up on this, but I’m not made like you. I appreciate that you saved my life—”
“A couple of times.”
“Okay, a couple of times, but this day has been a lot. I don’t do miles of hiking or any kind of rock climbing that doesn’t involve a safety harness, an indoor wall, and some jacked-up guy on the gym floor shouting stuff like ‘Good hustle!’ I’m trying my best, but I’m about ready to lose it here.”
Diana studied her for a long moment, and Alia was pretty sure that the girl could simply throw her over her shoulder if she wanted to. But Diana nodded and gave a small bow. “Forgive me.”
Apparently, cult kids had really good manners, too.
“No problem,” Alia said, embarrassed by her outburst. At least this meant no more piggybacks. Diana led her along the cliff to the beginning of a steep, narrow path. Alia swallowed and did her best to feign confidence. “Much better.”
“My way would be faster,” Diana offered.
“Slow and steady wins the race.”
“That is almost always untrue.”
“Take it up with Aesop.”
“Aesop never existed. The stories credited to him were the work of two female slaves.”
“That sounds about typical. I’ll ponder it on the way down.”
Alia started along the path, carefully choosing each step, afraid she’d lose her footing and go right over the side.
“It’s going to take you an hour if you do it that way,” said Diana.
“I’ll get there when I get there. I’m not part goat.”
“Could have fooled me.”
At that moment another small tremor struck, and Alia pressed her body to the cliff side.
“You’re sure you want to take the path?” Diana said.
“Positive,” Alia squeaked.
“All right. Wait for me on the sand.”
“You aren’t coming?”
“I’ll go my own way.”
Diana tossed her pack over the side of the cliff to the cove below. Then, as Alia watched in disbelief, she sprinted the length of the cliff top. Alia clapped her hands over her mouth. She can’t mean to—
Diana leapt, silhouetted for a moment against the thunderheads, toes pointed, arms outstretched. She looked like she might sprout wings and simply take flight. Stranger things have happened today. Instead, her body arced downward and vanished over the cliff side.
“Show-off,” Alia muttered, and continued down the path.
As she shuffled along, she alternated between trying to find the next place to put her foot and gazing out to sea to try to locate Diana in the rocking gray waves. The surf was huge, beating at the cove with ceaseless rage. What if Diana had simply been dragged under? What if she’d cracked her gorgeous head open on a rock?
The farther Alia went, the worse her own head ached and the sicker she felt. By the time she reached the bottom of the cliffs, her thighs were shaking and her nerves had frayed to nothing from fear of the fall. There was no sign of Diana, and Alia realized she had no idea what to do if she didn’t return. Climb back to the top? She wasn’t sure she had the strength. Hope one of those hippie weapons collectors found her and was friendlier than Diana had suggested? And what about everything Diana had said about Greece and Alia being dangerous?
“Girl is addled,” said Alia decisively to no one. “That’s what growing up in a cult does to you.” Yeah, and you’re the one talking to yourself on a beach.
Even so, Alia felt the knot of worry in her chest loosen when she looked out to sea and saw Diana cutting through the ocean, her arms slicing through the water at a determined pace. There was something behind her, a massive shape that appeared and disappeared in the spaces between the waves.
When Diana reached the shore, she emerged with water streaming from her dark hair, ropes thrown over her shoulders, feet digging into the sand, every muscle in her body straining as she strode forward. It took Alia a long moment to understand that the ropes were rigging.
Diana had hauled the Thetis from the bottom of the sea.
A bone-deep shiver quaked through Alia. One of the masts was still intact; the other had snapped free close to its base. The prow was completely gone. The explosion had left nothing but a jagged line of wood and fiberglass where the rest of the boat should be. You are being hunted….Because of what you are.
Diana didn’t understand. Alia’s family had been targets for so long, first when people accused them of “playing God” with their research, then because of the rules the Keralis Foundation attached to any grant for aid. There was still speculation that the crash that had killed her parents had been an assassination plot. A thorough investigation had proven that there was nothing more to that terrible night than a slippery road and distracted drivers. But every few years, some newspaper or blog ran a conspiracy piece on the deaths of Nik and Lina Keralis. Alia would get an email from some curious reporter, or she’d walk by a newsstand and see her parents’ wedding photo looking back at her, and the wound would open all over again.
She remembered sitting in the backseat with Jason, his profile lit by streetlamps, her parents in the front, arguing about which bridge to take home. That was the last memory she had of them: her mother drumming on the steering wheel, her father jabbing at the screen of his phone and insisting that if she’d just taken the Triborough, they’d be home by now. Then the strange feeling of the car moving the wrong way, momentum carrying them across three lanes of traffic as they slid into a skid. She remembered the car hitting the divider, the shriek of tearing metal, and then nothing at all. She’d been twelve. Jason had been sixteen. When she’d woken up in the hospital, she still had the smell of burnt rubber in her nose. It took days for it to dissipate and be replaced by the cloying stink of hospital disinfectant. Jason had been there when she woke, a big slash on his cheek that had been stitched closed, his eyes red from crying. Their godfather, Michael Santos, had come, and his son, Theo, who had put his arm around Jason and held Alia’s hand.
Looking at the remains of the Thetis felt the same as waking up in that hospital bed, like grief rushing straight at her. You are being hunted. Was Alia the reason for the wreck? Was she why Jasmine and Ray and the others were lost forever?
Diana had set about disentangling the rigging and was now tearing the hull apart as easily as if she were digging into a lobster dinner.
“What are you doing?” Alia asked, eyeing her nervously. Maybe the cult members mixed steroids in with their chewable vitamins.
“We need a craft to get out past the boundary.”
“What boundary?”
Diana hesitated, then said, “I just meant open sea. The hull is useless, but I think we can salvage part of the deck and the sail and use it as a raft.”
Alia didn’t want to touch the boat. She didn’t want anything to do with it. “A raft? In that surf? Why don’t we wait for the storm to pass?”
“This storm isn’t going to pass. It’s only going to get worse.” Diana peered out at the water. “We could try swimming, but if we got separated—”
“It’s fine,” Alia said, helping Diana brace a piece of the hull against her shoulder and tear it free.
At that moment Diana doubled over in pain.
“What is it?” Alia asked, panicked. Without realizing it, she’d started to think of Diana as invulnerable.
“Maeve,” she said. “The others. We have to hurry. Soon it will be too late.”