{"product_id":"read-the-prologue-chapter-1-here","title":"Read the Prologue \u0026 Chapter 1 Here","description":"\u003cdiv class=\"WordSection1\"\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" align=\"center\" style=\"text-align: center; mso-pagination: none; page-break-after: avoid;\"\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cu\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 22.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003ePrologue\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/u\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eSparta doesn’t mourn its dead.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eIt doesn’t cradle its fallen sons nor weep for the daughters cast from cliffs—marked weak, cursed, or too strange. The Earth devours them whole.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eSuch is the law. Such is strength.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eBut sometimes, the Earth does not swallow.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eSometimes, it remembers the ones it was told to forget.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe girl who should have died.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eBut didn’t.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThey didn’t throw her as an infant. Infants don’t scream their father’s name.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eShe was fifteen. Small for her age, but too strong. \u003ci\u003eToo strange.\u003c\/i\u003e Too silent in temples.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe Pythia had spoken, and Sparta had listened.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e“\u003ci\u003eA child of war born of falsehood.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eFlame in her veins and iron in her path,\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eWith a mark upon her skin, red as blood,\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThey shall cast Sparta into ruin—\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eOr raise it from ash with bloodied hands.”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe Pythia never said her name. But when the words fell, all eyes turned to the girl with the mark. As if prophecy didn’t need a name, just a target.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe mark would seal her fate. A godbrand, they called it. Wrought not by man but divine will. \u003cspan style=\"mso-spacerun: yes;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eA spear-shaped stain the color of blood, carved into her shoulder before she ever took a breath.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eProof, they said, that the gods had touched her before she knew life.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eNot blessed. Touched like a battlefield is touched by fire. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-spacerun: yes;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eThe flame that burned within her would be felt in the blood of every Spartan. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThey never said her name, not aloud. But everyone knew. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe girl with the mark. An unquestioned danger to them all.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eAnd maybe—just maybe—they weren’t wrong.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThey bound her hands with leather cord, walked her past the temple of Artemis Orthia, past the place where her mother once danced, and past the old sycamore where boys became men.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eShe didn’t cry. Spartan children aren’t raised to cry.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eHer father walked behind them, silent. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eShe searched his face for anything—regret, doubt, love. But he had become stone. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe wind howled like wolves at the cliff’s edge of Mount Taygetus, where Sparta cast its unfit. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eAnd still, she did not cry.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThey pushed her.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eShe fell.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eBut the mountain did not let her die.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eStone broke around her body like water, and the air thickened to catch her bones. Something ancient stirred beneath the roots and rocks. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eShe fell into shadow, into silence.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eAnd as the darkness closed in around her, the mountain breathed her name back into the dark.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003c\/div\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" align=\"center\" style=\"text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; mso-pagination: none; page-break-after: avoid;\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" align=\"center\" style=\"text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; mso-pagination: none; page-break-after: avoid;\"\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cu\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eChapter One: The Mountain Remembers\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/u\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe dream starts with fire.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eIt eats through the dark like it’s alive. Curling. Clawing. Devouring.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe air chokes and the sky pulses red behind her eyelids like a heartbeat.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eShe’s running. Or falling. Maybe both.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eA spear in her hand. Blood in her mouth. Screaming—someone else’s or hers, it’s hard to tell.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThen come the eyes. Red. Not like blood or fire. Red like war.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThey stare into her, through her, and she knows them even if she’s never seen them before.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eAres.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eHe doesn’t speak. He never has. But the way he looks at her—like she belongs to him—terrifies her more than the fire ever could. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eAnd then—\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eFalling.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eWind screaming past her ears. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe sharp pain of hard, cold, stone.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eSilence.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eHer name breathed like a curse from the dark:\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThera.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI gasp, the sound rips from me like I’d broken the surface of the river mid-drown. Cold air hits my skin. Rough blankets rub my legs.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eMy hand’s already on the blade beneath my pillow. \u003cspan style=\"mso-spacerun: yes;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eInstinct. Muscle memory. Paranoia.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eTake your pick. They all leave bruises.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"tab-stops: 1.85in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e                                 \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eIt’s always that moment, the fall. The wind screaming. The cliff. My father’s silence. The way the mountain opened instead of killing me. I shouldn’t have lived. But I did.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThere’s no one there. Of course not. Just shadows and the creak of old wood. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI sit up slowly, my heart still kicking at my ribs. My knuckles are white around the hilt of my blade. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eIt always leaves me sweaty, wired, ready to fight gods or ghosts, whichever appears first. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI dig my nails into my palm, jaw clenched. Not fear. Never that. Just the burning, stupid anger that still gets to me. That I still see his eyes every time I close mine.\u003ci\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eAres, with those damn eyes. \u003ci\u003eMálaka—\u003c\/i\u003ethe oldest word in my vocabulary, and still the most satisfying.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI sigh, dragging my hand through my hair. “Get a grip,” I mutter. “There’s no fire. No cliff. No war god stalking you from the darkness.”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eShadows stretch across the rough stone walls of the cave. Each one shaped like a memory hovering at the edge of my mind.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eJust another night in this quiet little corner of nowhere. The crickets hum like they haven’t seen war. The moon hangs smug above the pines. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eJust me and the ghosts.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI drop the knife. It clatters too loud in the silence.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eGood.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eLet it remind the shadows who they’re dealing with.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI rub the grit from my eyes and swing my legs over the edge of the cot, bare feet hitting the cold stone. The chill bites, but it’s familiar—\u003ci\u003ereal\u003c\/i\u003e. I focus on that. The bite. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe air smells like cedar smoke and mountain dust. The way the wind slips through the cracks in the shutters, carrying the ghost whistle of owls and something more distant—water? Or wolves?\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe hearth is dead. Again. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI push to my feet as the old floorboards creak. Everything here groans: the wood and my bones. I stretch out my limbs, each joint cracking in protest.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eMaybe that’s why I like it here. It speaks its truth, no matter how ugly.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-spacerun: yes;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eA soft rustle comes from behind the tattered curtain that separates my corner from the rest of the house.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eCyrene, probably.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eShe sleeps like a stone most nights, but she hears things. \u003ci\u003eFeels\u003c\/i\u003e things. Some say that’s what madness is, but I’ve never bought that.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eShe talks to the gods like they still listen.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI move to the hearth, nudging the ashes with an iron rod. Dead. Of course, it is. Nothing ever stays warm up here. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI sigh and grab a log from the stack by the wall—what’s left of it, anyway. We’ll need more before the week’s out.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eNot that I mind the cold. It reminds you you’re still breathing.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eOur little home is built halfway into a mountain, more a cave than a house, but it keeps out the worst of the storms. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eWood-planked floor. Stone walls that sweat in spring. Shelves lined with dried herbs and glass jars that Cyrene swears are for “divine intention”, but mostly just smell like burnt rosemary.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eIt’s quiet up here. Not temple-quiet or death-quiet. Just…\u003ci\u003eremoved\u003c\/i\u003e. Like the gods forgot to look this far up.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eAnd that’s why we stay. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe scent hits me before I see her—sharp, earthy, and familiar.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eShe’s preparing tea now, hunched in her old wool cloak, filling a battered clay kettle. She stirs it with a carved wooden spoon, slow and steady like it’s a ritual. Maybe it is. Maybe that’s why it always tastes like memory.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eA handful of crushed herbs sit in a small wooden bowl beside her. Pale green and silver stems still sticky with resin. \u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003e“Mountain tea?” I ask, though I already know.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eShe hums softly. “The strong kind,” she says without looking up, her hands steady even when the world isn’t. “For dreams that leave teeth marks.”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eI huff a quiet breath and sit down beside her, letting the warmth of the rekindled fire crawl up my spine. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e“It grew wild near the ridgeline,” she says. “The gods still whisper up there.”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e“Mm,” I grunt, noncommittal. I don’t say anything about the gods. Not today.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eShe doesn’t press. She never does.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThat’s Cyrene—still as a mountain stone, sharp as the blade at my hip. She speaks when the world quiets down enough to hear her. She sees things even without her eyes and hears truths people haven’t yet said. It unsettles most. Some call her mad.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThey called me worse.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eBut she’s never once shown fear. Not even when I first woke in her hut, blood in my mouth and vengeance in my bones. She only tilted her head, like she was listening to voices carried on a breeze. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eLike she’d been waiting.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eLike she already knew I’d fall and chose to catch me anyway.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI wrap my fingers tighter around the cup. The warmth seeps into my muscles, but the ache beneath never really fades. The scar below my ribs throbs with memory—faint but there. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eA child’s wound in a woman’s body.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eProof I was marked again long after the gods branded me. Long before I knew what it meant to be broken and breathing at the same time.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eIt’s been thirteen winters since that day on top of Mount Taygetus. The same mountain I now call home.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI was too young to understand the weight of prophecy. But I remember the look in my mother’s eyes when she stared at the mark on my shoulder.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eNot just fear. Recognition.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eLike she’d seen it before. Or dreamed it.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eHer hands trembled when she pulled the cloth away, when she traced the shape like it might burn her. A spear, slanted and sharp.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eAnd whatever she knew—or feared—she didn’t speak it. Not aloud. Just stepped back, eyes wide. As if she’d already lost me.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThey think prophecy is truth. I think it’s just fear wrapped in poetry.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThey said I’d bring ruin or salvation. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eBut Sparta doesn’t gamble. It chooses certainty.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eSo, they chose the cliff. Because killing a child is easier than risking a future they can’t control.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe Ephors signed the judgment, or so I was told. Men who hadn’t looked me in the eyes since I was born, but still decided I was too dangerous to live.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI remember the fall—wind screaming, the world turning sideways, the bone-snap silence at the bottom. Then darkness.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThen her. Cyrene.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eShe found me half-buried in blood and stone, more corpse than child. No one should’ve survived that drop. But I did.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eAnd when I opened my eyes, broken and cold, she was already tending to me—blind eyes fixed on my face like she’d seen me before.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e“You’re not done yet,” she said.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI didn’t believe her. I still don’t. But I stayed. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eAt first, because I couldn’t move. Then because she was the only person around who didn’t think I was dead.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eShe taught me how to listen, and how to read the wind. How to feel the gods without praying to them. And I kept her warm, kept the house together. Kept the shadows from creeping too close when her dreams went dark.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eSometimes, when the fire is low and the tea just starts to boil, she murmurs, “\u003ci\u003eEven the gods fear what they don’t understand.”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eAnd I’ll grunt something in return, pretending I’m not listening. But I am.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI always am.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eThe silence between us is broken only by the soft crackle of the fire. Cyrene lifts her head slightly, her face tilts toward the heat. Her blind eyes never quite meet mine, but somehow, they always feel as if they do.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003e“You dreamt again,” she says. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eNot a question, not really.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI don’t answer. I take a sip of the tea instead. It burns the back of my throat, bitter and bright, like green smoke.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eShe shifts, her wool cloak slipping from one shoulder as she reaches to stoke the fire with the curved end of her spoon.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e“Same dream?” she asks, voice low.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI roll the cup between my hands. “Not exactly.”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eShe hums again—low, knowing. “They’re getting louder. Dreams like that mean the dead are close.”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe words slip under my skin before I can stop them. I stiffen. “They?”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eCyrene doesn’t reply. She leans back, cradling her cup now, steam curling around her face like smoke offerings. For a long moment, the only sound is the pop and sigh of the fire.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThen softly, too softly, she says,\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e“\u003ci\u003eThe mountain remembers you.”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI stop breathing.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eHer face is unreadable, her expression as distant as the gods she speaks to. She doesn’t elaborate. She never does.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eBut I can feel it, under my skin, as if the mountain is breathing with me. Watching. Waiting.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI set the cup down slowly, carefully, like sudden movement might wake something best left sleeping.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e“I was a child,” I murmur, unsure if I’m talking to her or the stones around us. “I didn’t understand what they feared.”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e“You do now,” she says.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI look at her, even though she can’t see it. “Is that why they’re coming?”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eCyrene turns her head slightly like she’s listening to something only she can hear. A crease forms between her brows.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e“They never stopped,” she says. “You just started hearing them again.”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e“Who?” I ask again, even though I think I know.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe ones who still hunt what they don’t understand. The ones who fear what I might become.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eA shiver creeps down my spine, slow and deliberate, like fingers brushing bone. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eOutside, the wind shifts. Not loud, but…different. Like it learned a new way to breathe. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI glance toward the doorway though it’s just shadows and the low whistle of the draft slipping through the stone.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e“They’re closer than before,” Cyrene says, and for the first time in a long while, I think I hear fear in her voice. Not panic. Not dread. Something older. Wiser. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI clench my jaw. “What do they want?”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eCyrene lifts her cup, sips it, and sets it down. “The same thing they always have,” she says. “To be seen. To be heard. To be remembered.”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI swallow hard, the taste of mountain tea gone bitter in my mouth. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e“And you,” she adds softly, “carry all three.”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI don’t want to carry anything. Not their ghosts. Not their prophecies.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eBut it’s too late, isn’t it?\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eCyrene falls silent once again. The air seems \u003ci\u003ealive\u003c\/i\u003e with something like it was present for our conversation.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe moment sinks. Cyrene hums once, and it’s gone.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI rise slowly, collecting the empty cups. My legs ache from sitting too long, but it’s the kind of ache that keeps you grounded. Keeps you from drifting too far into the past.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI glance toward the curtain covering the entrance of our home again. The pale light leaking in has dimmed—storm clouds, maybe.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eBut something tightens in my gut as I look at it. As if something waits on the other side. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eWatching.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI let out a slow breath, forcing the tension from my shoulders. Wind needles the doorway. Enough. I pull the curtain and look out.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe world outside is muffled, the trees swaying with a slow, uneasy rhythm. Clouds have gathered low over the peaks, dragging shadows down into the valley.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI step out anyway.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe cold bites fast, curling around my ankles like water. I cross the narrow ledge that serves as our porch and crouch near the woodpile. The kindling basket’s low—too low—and the traps I set yesterday still need checking.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003c!-- [if !vml]--\u003e\u003cimg width=\"182\" height=\"85\" align=\"left\" alt=\"A black background with a long black arrow\n\nAI-generated content may be incorrect.\"\u003e\u003c!--[endif]--\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI grab the basket and sling it over my shoulder.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eRoutine. Motion. Things that make sense.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eBehind me, Cyrene’s humming fades into silence.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe path down into the trees is worn by years of use—by my boots, and hers before mine. It winds like a scar along the mountain’s side, disappearing into the thicket where the mist gathers.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI move slowly, my eyes scanning out of habit. The traps aren’t far, nestled between rocks and roots, hidden from easy view. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI check the first—empty.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-spacerun: yes;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eThe second—sprung but nothing inside.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eIt’s the third one that makes me stop.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe trap is intact, untouched. But the earth around it…\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eDisturbed.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe dirt’s been brushed over hastily as if someone was trying to hide their tracks. A few leaves laid too deliberately. And a print beside it, just barely visible in the soft mud. It was the indention of a boot.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe blood freezes in my veins and I stiffen. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eSomeone’s been here.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eA chill wraps around my spine, different from the wind. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI straighten slowly, the basket creaking on my shoulder. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe forest holds its breath. So do I.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI take a silent step back. Not afraid, just aware.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eAware that something’s coming. And it’s closer than I thought.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eBut how? No one knows I’m alive. No one could’ve—\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eA flash of memory cuts through my panic: blood, fur, jaws snapping. \u003ci\u003eThe trader.\u003c\/i\u003e Weeks ago, limping, delirious. I’d only meant to scare the wolves off, but he’d looked at me like he’d seen a ghost.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003e“Didn’t think the stories were true,” he’d muttered, half-collapsed by the fire.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003e“What stories?” I remember asking as I dressed the deep cut on his leg.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eHe smiled, half delirious as he stared into the mist like he expected it to swallow him whole. The fire hissed. He leaned closer.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003e“The girl from the mountain,” he spoke as if in a fever dream. \u003cspan style=\"mso-spacerun: yes;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eI didn’t react. Didn’t move. But the echo stuck with me like a bruise.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eNot many people know I exist.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eBack then, I thought it was nothing. A half-baked camp tale from a frightened and hurt man who’d gotten too close to death. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eBut now…\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eSomething like dread curls in my gut.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eI’ve become a story.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eAnd someone’s finally decided to find out if it’s true.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eI turn and bolt, feet pounding the path. Branches whip against my legs, the cold long forgotten. The hut’s only a few bends ahead—if I can get to Cyrene before—\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eMovement. The rustle of leaves.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eI slide to a stop.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eSomeone stands in the path. A man. Lean, cloaked, armed.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eWe lock eyes.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eHe startles—turns on his heel—and runs. No insignia, but I don’t need one. I know who sent him. And I know what happens if he makes it back to Sparta. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eHe can’t.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Biome Light';\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eI’m moving before I think. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eBranches claw at my arms and legs, but I don’t slow. My feet remember the path better than my mind ever could—the curve of the hill, the half-rotten log slick with moss, the crag that gives way if you step too far left. He’s fast, but I’m faster. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eHe doesn’t know this land. I do.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eMist winds through the trees, thick and low, curling around us like it’s listening.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eI see the flash of his cloak ahead, dark against the pale morning light. He leaps over a fallen tree, misjudges the slope on the other side, and stumbles. That’s all I need. I slide into position, bow already in hand, arrow notched.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eExhale. Adjust. Release.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eThe thrum of the string cuts through the air—and a sharp cry follows as he drops to the ground.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eMy legs carry me forward before I’m ready. He’s trying to crawl, dragging himself toward the brush with one arm, and clutching his thigh with the other. My arrow juts from the muscle just above the knee, clean shot. He won’t be walking anywhere.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eI reach him and plant my foot on his back before he can grab the dagger at his side. “Don’t.”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eHe freezes.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eHis breath comes in sharp gasps. “You’re real,” he whispers like it’s a curse, his eyes flicker to my shoulder and widen. “The mark—”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003e“Quiet.” I wrench the dagger from his belt and toss it aside. “You don’t get to speak.”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-indent: 0in;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-tab-count: 1;\"\u003e            \u003c\/span\u003eI bind his wrists with a cord from my satchel, rough and quick.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-spacerun: yes;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eI don’t know what I’m going to do with him, but I need answers. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eHe winces as I drag him deeper into the woods, off the path, and into a dip in the land hidden by brush and boulders. No one will see us here. Not unless they’re already looking.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-spacerun: yes;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e“Why are you here?” I ask. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eHe says nothing. I draw my knife and press the edge lightly against his throat. “Try again.” \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eHe swallows hard and a brief flash of fear crosses his features. “There were…rumors. Whispers. A trader said he saw a girl in the mountains who saved him from wolves. Said she vanished into the mist.” He slowly shakes his head. “They didn’t believe him, not really.” \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e“But you still came.” \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eHe nods slowly. “The rumors were getting out of hand and the Ephors went to the Pythia.” \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eMy chest tightens—\u003ci\u003eMalaka. That damn Oracle\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e“What did she say?” I demand. I begin to add more pressure on the blade, and this time, a small drop of blood beads onto his skin. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eHis eyes widen but he continues. “She said…” his voice shakes. “She said, ‘\u003ci\u003eThe girl who fell will rise, and when she does, Sparta will bleed\u003c\/i\u003e.’” \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThey believe I’m alive. No more whispers. Only a warning. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eThe knife trembles, just slightly, in my hand. I see it then—the two paths laid out before me. If I let him go, he’ll crawl back to Sparta, and they’ll come for me. For Cyrene. My hand tightens around my blade at the thought. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eBut if I kill him… There’s no undoing it. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eNo slipping back into the shadows, pretending I’m a ghost. This would be an act of war. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eBut at the same time…it’ll buy me time to move before they discover their scout is missing.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-spacerun: yes;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eHe sees the shift in me. I watch it dawn in his eyes—the moment he realizes I’m weighing his life like a general counts the dead. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eA crooked, bitter smile twists his mouth. “What’s wrong?” he rasps. “Does it weigh on you, \u003ci\u003edaímōnas\u003c\/i\u003e?”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-spacerun: yes;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eDemon. The word lands like a stone in my gut, not for what it means—but for how familiar it sounds.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-spacerun: yes;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eWhen I don’t answer, something meaner flickers across his face. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e“You think they feared you before?” He sneers. “Wait until they find out you murdered one of their own. They’ll burn these mountains to ash and drag you back in chains.” \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eI don’t flinch.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-spacerun: yes;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eHis voice rises with the color in his cheeks, harsh and furious. “You should’ve stayed dead!”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-spacerun: yes;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eHe spits at me.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eA dangerous calm settles over me as I wipe his disgusting saliva off my face.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"mso-spacerun: yes;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eThe wind goes still, and a crow calls once, distant and sharp, then falls silent. I feel every heartbeat in my body, slow and deliberate. He’s still watching me, waiting to see what kind of monster I’ll be. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eOne swift motion. Clean. Silent. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eHis eyes widen, then go still. My breath hitches. Just once. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Garamond',serif;\"\u003eIt’s done. No sound. No scream. Just silence and red.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"The Alibi Room","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":44748395184221,"sku":null,"price":0.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0702\/9646\/9597\/files\/chess_666841e2-756b-4205-bb53-f2d173cb2ea9.png?v=1784553598","url":"https:\/\/thealibiroombookstore.com\/products\/read-the-prologue-chapter-1-here","provider":"The Alibi Room","version":"1.0","type":"link"}