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“She’s a quick one, Prometheus. You’ve raised her well.”
Appearing satisfied, the god turns back to Dad. Gripping Dad’s shoulder, the god steps into a shimmering rainbow of light. Electricity and the metal scent of magic is emitted from the small burst of light. Dad’s eyes fixate on mine. Terror. Pure fear pours into my soul. Both are gone before my eyes. Leaving our packs, the bag of pomegranates, and me.
Leaning forward, my head is pressed into the dirt, my arms tightly wrapped around me.
“What’ll I tell the town?” I sob between stretches of violent shaking.
Not a soul would be able to find them. A search party would be useless. By now, he has been drugged to wherever the god wished him to be.
Spotting Dad’s cloak, I bury my face in the fabric. The smoky smell of Dad hits me.
I should leave it here. But I can’t.
I need this piece of him.
Tucking it in my bag, I contemplate my story.
In my mind, I created a fictitious story about the events of the day. A wolf attack. So quick that we didn’t have a chance to respond. run. Dad shoved me out of the way when the foul beast lunged and told me to run and not look back. No matter the noises that I hear. I did so. Running as fast as I could manage away from the Veil.
Away from the god.
Away from Dad.
Thorns rip at my skin, cutting the clothing on my body. Leaping past brambles, my feet slap against the streams.
Gods, I just hope that he won’t hear me.
Painting, the muggy air clings to my skin. Threatening to smother me.
Tears rolling down my face.
Six Months Later
With a basket filled with dried herbs, I set out for the apothecary.
“Move,” Ari warns. “We are being followed and you need to get somewhere full of people.
As I cross by a stand selling roasted chestnuts, my attention is caught by a shadowy figure in black who seems to be tailing me.
Damn it, she’s right.
Looking out of the corner of my eye, I observe a man cloaked in shadows.
Great, I think sarcastically.
The nasally voice of a maiden catches my attention. “Word from my sister is that the Pythia have yet to find the girl.” The tone of her voice gives me pause. “They still believe it was meant to be Celeste but there’s too much unpredictability to be certain. Apparently, they have a whole list of people who’ll be potentially taken.” The young girl’s face pales when she sees me brushing past. Pointing, she whispers to her friend.
“Shush!” A brown haired girl hushed her companion.
“Did you see her eyes? I bet the god will take her.” Another maiden whispers as I cross their path.
Doubt it. I think snottily to myself. Mocking the maiden’s nasally tone. Even Apollo would surely see right through me. I’m a jinx. The world knows it. I know it.
Mortals like her would probably prefer it was me. Someone who is disposable. A forgettable soul who is dispensable.
As two women pass, I snap my focus back on the man tailing me.
But he was gone.
