Page 84 of A Tribute of Fire

“There’s a neighborhood in Troas with a large Sasanian population,” Io said.

I took a sip of my wine. It was diluted, but it was still sweet and delicious. I felt warm inside, which I’d initially blamed on my drink. I realized that it had nothing to do with the alcohol, but the company I was keeping.

Demaratus had told me once that dogs who were fed together formed bonds and became attached to one another, which was why I’d always had breakfast and lunch with my regiment.

The same thing had already started to happen here.

Despite my resolution to keep these women at arm’s length, to play along with whatever the priestesses demanded, to do as they wanted so that I could get my hands on the eye of the goddess, I found myself not wanting to shut out my adelphia.

They would understand what you’re doing,a voice whispered inside me, and this time it sounded like my mother.They might even help you.

It could be true. They had all suffered the loss of loved ones, had been put into impossible situations where racing for the temple had been their only option, and they believed in the goddess and the old stories. I realized that I had more in common with them than almost everyone else from my former life.

As the evening progressed, I discovered that my adelphia were funny and kind and warm and welcoming. I felt included. Like I was already part of their sisterhood, despite the fact that I’d only just met them. Being with them felt like coming home.

That concerned me.

I couldn’t afford to get too close to them. Maybe they’d help me, or maybe they’d actively try to stop me if they knew what I was after.

Our dinner continued and we exchanged more stories about our lives. I was careful to steer away from any possibly identifying information and thankfully no one seemed to notice that my answers were a bit vague.

Their personalities became clearer as the evening went on. Ahyana was playful and mischievous with an irrepressible and generous spirit. Her raven clearly adored her. Zalira was protective and fierce, with a gentle and kind heart. Despite her toughness on the outside, it was obvious that she was soft as a down pillow inside.

Suri was a bit harder to get to know because she didn’t talk, but she smiled and nodded or shook her head throughout the meal. I sensed strength and that she was a steadying, calming influence. It was obviousthe other women cared a great deal about her, and I found myself wanting to know more.

I’d never been able to resist a mystery.

Io had been so completely herself from the first moment I met her that it felt like there wasn’t anything new to discover about her. She was talkative and happy, positive and determined to do what was right. She was dedicated in her service to the goddess and to her sisters, attentive and tuned in to everyone’s needs.

I shouldn’t have been feeling this way. I needed to keep my defensive walls intact. These women were supposed to be my enemies. They were Ilionian in whole or in part. They had grown up here—this was their land, their customs, their people, their goddess.

But somehow they didn’t feel like enemies and were quickly becoming new friends.

There was a lot of laughter and teasing around the table. I’d forgotten what that was like. My brother’s death had cast a permanent pall over our family and now with Quynh—

I realized that a couple of hours had passed and I hadn’t thought of Quynh once in that entire time.

At first I felt guilty, until I reminded myself that I had been down this path before and knew that this was the way of grief—that it would come and go in waves, surprising with its overwhelming intensity in a moment where you thought yourself past it, imagined you’d become accustomed to the constant pain. Walking along the shore as the water harmlessly lapped at your feet until a wave came along that knocked you over and dragged you back into the ocean, drowning you in sorrow.

But even when you made it back to shore, that grief would continue to flow and ebb and there would be moments where you felt like your old self again.

Like tonight.

“Are you all right?” Io asked. I nodded but a silence descended over the table.

As if they knew I wasn’t telling the truth.

Zalira exchanged a glance with Ahyana and then asked, “How did you survive the race?”

What could I share with them? How I’d cheated and bribed an official to make certain that I’d be selected? That I’d trained and prepared for the event? I had to keep my true background quiet.

“There was someone in my life who used to be a great warrior. He helped to train me in case I was chosen,” I finally said. There were Ilionian men I’d only injured who would be able to tell the tale of the Locrian maiden who had fought back. I couldn’t keep that part a secret.

And although I’d never had a problem lying to people before, the words felt heavy on my tongue, like they were burning on the way out.

I didn’t want to lie to them. I felt a compulsion to confess everything.

“Did you have to fight?” Ahyana asked.

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