Alexis of Troy (Book I)

ξ′ - Eptah

SEVEN

Dusky air coiled around us with shadowy fingers. The sky was now blanketed in royal blues and purples, the stars flickering on one by one. We'd been walking for hours with the unbearable sun shining down on us. Now that the sun had dipped below the horizon, the moon's cold light took over, casting ever shifting ink around us. Everything was so quiet, still, unsettling. I wasn't used to that sort of silence. There was no noise pollution, no light pollution. Occasionally, there was a howl in the distance, a wolf I was certain was following us. An owl called out from its well-hidden perch. My skin crawled with tiny legs of unease. At night, predators prowled. We were a long way from Dyrope's territory, and without the safety of her borders, we were vulnerable prey. Every little thing scared me, and the shadows kept teasing me out of the corner of my eye. Was it a bandit? A pirate? A wolf? An angry god?

Maybe it was a mistake to leave Dryope's home. Maybe I made a lot of mistakes in the past few days, though there was nothing more to do than to carry on.

I'd never really been afraid of the dark, but out in the wilderness, that changed. Even if Paris walked next to me, he wasn't strong like the Greek heroes. Hell, I'd feel a lot safer if I was in the company of Achilles. War hungry and powerful Achilles. I was willing to bet even the wolves shied away from him.

Not that I said any of this to Paris. If he seemed unsettled by being out here after dark, he did a good job hiding it, though I couldn't help notice the way his shoulders tensed as the shadows cloaked him. He'd produced a small dagger which he clutched tight in his hand. A small reassurance given the dangers that came out at night.

"We should consider making camp," Paris said, in a subdued voice.

"How much further?" I whispered. I didn't want the shadows to know I was nervous.

"Far enough that we won't make it tonight. We should reserve our strength and start out again at first light."

He glanced over his shoulder, and as alert as he was, he still managed to flash me a reassuring smile. Paris might not be a hero like Achilles, but he'd still built up strength from farming. I had no idea what I was getting into in this world, and after Athena hung me high and dry, I needed someone who knew the place to help me navigate.

"Cool," I muttered, wrapping my arms around my torso. "A night out in the wild. Easy."

Truthfully, a break would be nice. Paris had helped me change the bandages on my feet earlier, but the leather of the sandals were chafing and rubbing the exposed parts of skin.

"It's the same as sleeping at Dryope's," Paris assured me. It might have worked, if he didn't sound nervous.

"At least it's not raining." I squinted, trying to find a decent place to rest. "How about near those trees? They should provide us shelter and keep us hidden."

"Good idea. A fire will keep away predators."

We settled for a trio of trees that created a little nest for us to huddle. As Paris built a fire, I sank to the ground in relief. There was a spark and then a triumphant ignition as the fire lit up, warmth licking my cheeks.

"Oh, sweet, blessed heat," I sighed and reached for my feet. They pulsed with a constant ache. I probably should change the bandages or at least let them air out while we rested.

Overhead, a raven cawed. It blended perfectly against the black backdrop, though in the silence, I heard the ruffle of its feathers and the tapping of its beak against the tree it hid.

Paris took my feet. He eased the sandals off and inspected them with gentle precision. I watched him silently, the way his brow furrowed, the flames giving a golden hue to his dark hair. I hated being forced into the role as damsel in distress, but I couldn't ignore the flutter of wings in my stomach. He looked at me with genuine tenderness, as if I were a helpless lamb. There was such a sweetness to him, something that was overlooked in Homer's descriptions. How could anyone warp the prince into someone cowardly and selfish?