Page 32 of A Tribute of Fire

Which I intended to be long.

I reached for Quynh’s hand and took one last look at our family. Father and Kallisto had their arms around our mother.

“Let’s go,” I said. We began to walk away and our mother screamed and it took all of my willpower not to go back to her.

There was nothing I could do for her now.

I would have to wait until I could return with Quynh to ease her soul.

We headed down toward the docks and the scent of sea salt and brine rose up to meet us. There was no trade happening today, no fishbeing brought in. Out of respect, the Locrians stayed away from the docks and the sea. Life stopped for this moment to honor us.

But Demaratus was no Locrian. He stood at the pathway that led down to the docks, waiting.

“Go on,” Andronicus said to me. “I would like to speak with Quynh alone.”

Nodding, I walked over to where my mentor stood. It never ceased to amaze me how he could black out from drinking and be completely fresh and focused the next day.

I wondered if there was a lesson in that.

“What happened to your jaw?” he demanded, turning my head to see the bruise more clearly. My jaw ached from where I’d been hit, but I’d been shutting the pain out.

“Lykaon of Ilion. My sister’s betrothed. He was beating a maid and I tried to stop him. He is still at the palace. I don’t know how long he’s staying, or if he’ll return to visit while I’m gone, but I need you to keep an eye on him. To warn the guards to do the same. I don’t want him to ever be alone with Kallisto.”

“Do you want me to remove his head from his neck?”

More than anything, and I knew that if it was my final request Demaratus would see it done, even if it cost him his own life. “I don’t want any wars started while I’m gone, so no. When we return to Locris, I will do it myself.”

He nodded, his gaze turning toward Andronicus and Quynh. Andronicus was soothing her while she cried. “I heard your sister was selected.”

“Yes. How do I keep her alive?”

Demaratus gave me that piercing, withering look of his. The one that said I already knew the answer. “You don’t. There is no way for you to succeed and keep her from dying. Sometimes sacrifices must be made. Even of our loved ones.”

“You lost your hand to protect your best friend!” Surely he would understand.

But he did not. “It is too late for you to make that same choice. You can no longer protect her. You might still be able to protect the rest of your family and your nation, but your sister is already lost to you.”

“I don’t accept that.”

“Whether or not you accept it, it is still a fact. I’m sorry for your loss, but there is nothing that can be done. She will weigh you down.”

I wanted to tear my hair out by the roots in frustration. This was not the answer that I wanted. I needed Demaratus to fix this. To have some special Daemonian method or trick that would help me. He was supposed to be the expert, the master strategist.

“Weren’t you the one who told me the greatest pleasure in life is doing something everyone says is impossible?” I asked. “I want to live by my choice, not by chance.”

He didn’t address my question or my statement and only replied, “You’ll have to leave her behind.”

“I won’t,” I said with a shake of my head.

“Then you’ll both die and all of this will have been for nothing.”

His words hung in the air between us. I knew he meant them and some tiny part of me suspected that he was right. “This wasn’t quite the inspirational speech I thought you would share.”

He considered this information and then said, “I can give you the same one my last commander gave me when we were faced with an undefeatable foe. ‘Breakfast here, dinner in the underworld.’”

For the first time since the selection, I actually had the desire to smile. “That is terrible.”

He nodded, as if agreeing with me. “I have something for you.”

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