Page 36 of A Tribute of Fire

“I was wondering how long it would take those ships to burn.”

“You shouldn’t joke about such things. Sailors are a superstitious bunch, and fire is one of our worst fears. ‘Fire, women, and sea, evils three.’”

That made absolutely no sense as sailors spent all their time at sea, but I wasn’t interested in engaging with him. I wanted him to leave me alone.

So that I wouldn’t remember what it had felt like to have his muscled arms crushing me to him.

His hot mouth ravaging mine.

“Go away, Ilionian.”

“My name is Jason,” he reminded me.

“Ilionian suits you better.”

“Except most of the men on this boat are Ilionian, which might get confusing.”

Not all the men were Ilionian? That was interesting information. Had they hired mercenaries to help with the rowing? Men who worked for money could be bought. Their allegiances switched.

As I looked over the rowers on the top deck, I realized that there was no way to tell where each person had come from. Locris and Ilion had descended from the same group of ancestors.

Jason’s gaze was on me, and my skin seemed to burn in response. “You never did tell me who hit you.”

He reached out his hand, as if he intended to touch the bruise on my jaw. I stepped away from him and his arm dropped.

“Because you aren’t owed an explanation.” We rowed past the blockade, to the open ocean.

He stayed quiet for a few beats before saying, “I had heard that Locrian men were barbarians.”

And while I knew he was goading me into answering, I still took the bait. I whirled to face him, reminding myself not to reach for my sword. “We aren’t the ones who butcher women.”

“A crime was committed—and it must be repaid.”

“It has been repaid two thousandfold with innocent blood,” I fired back. “That should be enough to satisfy your bloodthirsty, vengeful nation.”

“Ilion is not the one who requires it. The goddess does.”

It was infuriating how calm he was, how rational. I wanted to strike him. “And who speaks for the goddess?”

His eyebrows lifted slightly. “That is bordering on blasphemy.”

“Better to be blasphemous than to stand by while innocents die.”

“By decree of the goddess, Ilionian citizens are not allowed to assist any Locrian maiden.”

I hadn’t heard that before, but Jason had no reason to lie to me. “It wasn’t a Locrian who hit me. It was one of your countrymen. Lykaon.”

Anger flashed in his eyes—he clamped his teeth together, his cheeks flexing in response.

And I wasn’t sure what he was mad about, nor did I care. “There. Now your curiosity has been satisfied. Don’t you have work to do?”

“Not everyone agrees with what’s happening to you. If I were captain of this ship, I would return you to Locris.”

Again, I believed him and I hated that I did. And I hated even more that his words had the effect of softening the edges of my anger toward him.

I glanced over my shoulder at the trierarch, who was still giving orders to a small group of men assembled around him. “I could kill the captain and then you’d succeed him.”

Jason grinned at me, like this amused him. “We have three hundred men on board who wouldn’t allow that to happen. He is beloved and I am not ambitious. But none of us can disobey the goddess. This is what she demands.”

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