They’d galloped up the sandy path towards the palace. Archers loosed their arrows from the walls, but Alena swept her arm, summoning the South Wind’s Gift. A slicing gust scattered the arrows harmlessly.
“Why are they attacking?” she snapped, reining in her horse just short of the gates. “We’re not enemies!”
“If you’d only given it a day,“ Phoebe repeated, exasperatingly calm, “we’d have been welcomed with open arms.”
Alena highly doubted that. “My sister might not have a day.”
Phoebe tilted her head, appraising her in that annoying way of hers. “Are you making haste for your sister—or to stop a wedding?”
The words lit a fresh spark of anger. “Leukos’ parents made a vow before the gods. Even if we stopped the wedding today, it would only be delayed. My sister might be sufferingright now. One day can make all the difference!” Her throat tightened. “If you’d arrived a day later when we met, I could have given the Achaeans a proper goodbye. If we’d left the Maiden’s sanctuary a day sooner, maybe we’d have reached Dodona in time to save San!”
She hadn’t meant to say her name aloud. Thankfully, Kaixo’s horse was a few paces behind still and the boy was too enchanted by a weather-worn statue of the Huntress, bow drawn mid-strike and encircled by her nymphs, to notice.
Phoebe’s mouth snapped shut For once, she looked at a loss. “You’re right. I apologise. We shouldn’t wait.” She gestured to the gates. “They’re sealed shut at the start of the wedding celebrations. Once the priests summon the Twelve to bless the marriage, the gates are locked?—”
“In good faith, as a sign of respect and hospitality,” Alena cut in. “I know, I read about it in?—”
“Huntress save me,” Phoebe groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “If you say ‘I read about it in a scroll’ one more time, I’ll throw you over the palace walls myself.”
Kaixo snorted, and despite the pressure bearing down, Alena couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at her mouth.
Phoebe levelled her with a look. “What’s your plan?”
Alena eyed the gate. “I’ll use the South Wind’s Gift. If I could whip up a gale strong enough to move that boulder the other day, I can blast these gates. You stay here with Kaixo and the horses. I’ll get them open.”
“Fine,” Phoebe muttered with a long-suffering sigh. “But at leasttryto show them your Omega Mark. One of those buffoons might be educated enough to recognise it.”
Another volley of arrows rained down.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Alena gritted out. “Keep Kaixo safe.”
She strode towards the gates, heat rising with every step. The air thickened—hot, sticky, crackling with pressure. Wind coiled at her feet, an impatient beast growing with each heartbeat until it whipped into a whirlwind, scattering the next wave of arrows like dust.
She raised her left hand high, the golden Omega Mark flashing in the sunlight.
But the guards didn’t flinch. Didn’t even pause.
Her patience snapped.
Magic surged up from her gut, a flood breaking loose. With a sharp sweep of her arm, she unleashed a storm.
The blast hit the gates with a thunderouscrack, shaking the stone walls and throwing up a thick cloud of dust. The doors burst open, and for a moment she just stood there, breathing hard, a fierce bloom of satisfaction curling in her chest.
The plan had worked perfectly.
Now, with the gates wide open and the three wolves padding close at her heels, Alena stepped forward and called for her sister.
No one answered.
The courtyard stretched ahead, eerily silent. Sandstone walls rose around her, two marble fountains bubbled softly, and a grand staircase climbed in clean symmetry.
At its centre stood the woman who could only be the queen—draped in a flowing saffron veil, a golden crown gleaming atop her dark coiled hair. Her court clustered around her in stunned disarray, a blur of silks and jewels, all eyes fixed on Alena. Shock etched every face. And beneath it… perhaps awe.
Alena barely registered them.
Because closer—partially obscured by drifting dust, standing amid the splintered remains of the gates—was Leukos.
Her heart stuttered.
