Page 28 of The Stars

“Killed?” He frowned.

“In the… future.” She shook her head. “We have to change it.”

He moved them over until they were sitting on one of the stone seats. “I’ve spoken with Prometheus.”

“Prometheus… the Titan?” she asked.

Dante nodded. “He warned me not to wake Pandora. He said that no good would come of it. I have no idea where Pandora is or even how to wake her. So I don’t think that will be a problem.” He sighed.

Amy’s blood ran cold. She turned towards him until their eyes locked.

“Dante, I am Pandora.”

Chapter Ten

Dante met her gaze. The shock and truth of what she was telling him hit him square in the chest.

“You… you’re Pandora?” He frowned.

She closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m… tired,” she said suddenly. “How long have you been here?” she asked after her eyes ran over his clothing.

“Days.” He shook his head. “A week.” He didn’t know really. He’d lost track of time.

“For me, it’s been about eight hours since we stood in that field and I watched you disappear. I haven’t slept since. Do you think this”—she motioned between them—“can wait?”

He nodded, then quickly stood up and helped her stand. He kept his gaze on her as they made their way down the stone steps of the theater, her weight heavy against him. She was weak, barely holding herself together after whatever hell she had just gone through, but the stubbornness in her eyes told him she wouldn’t give up. He admired that, even if it terrified him to see her so drained. They needed time—time to rest, time to think.

As they descended the steps, a figure emerged at the edge of the theater—the silver-haired town leader. His eyes were sharp and calculating, but there was a reverence in the way he looked at Dante and Amy, like he’d been waiting there for them.

“She is the one the gods have sent for you,” the man said softly, his voice calm but filled with certainty. When Dante nodded, the man motioned. “Come with me. You must need rest.”

Amy’s breaths were coming in short, ragged gasps. She nodded slightly, and they followed the man down a narrow path into the village. A small boy appeared, and Amy quickly mentioned that this was Theo, the boy who had found her and showed her the way to him. The boy nodded to him in greeting and then walked quietly behind them.

As they walked down the streets of the village, people were going about their daily tasks, and they stopped and watched them pass by. They parted for them, creating a clear path for them to walk. The whispers followed them like they were something otherworldly. He’d seen this kind of reverence before, felt it in the way people looked at him, thinking he was something more than human. It felt like a burden.

The town’s leader led them to a large, elegant house set apart from the others. The building stood beneath the shade of towering olive trees, its white walls gleaming in the late afternoon sun. Dante could smell the faint scent of freshly baked bread and herbs as they neared the entrance. He glanced at Amy and she looked as if she could barely keep her eyes open at this point.

“You will be safe here,” the man said, opening the door and ushering them inside.

The cool air hit Dante’s skin as they stepped over the threshold, the peaceful quiet of the house a stark contrast to the buzzing energy outside. Inside, the home was simple yet beautiful, the stone walls adorned with delicate tapestries. The floors were covered with large colorful handwoven rugs.

“I’ll show you to your rooms,” the man said, leading them further into the house.

Amy was taken into a private room, and Dante paused for a moment as he watched her make her way inside. She needed rest. Badly. He could see the strain in her movements, the way her shoulders slumped, and it gnawed at him. But he also knew that this was Amy—she couldn’t be broken easily. He remembered how strong and outspoken she’d been in school. How she’d stood up to bullies and fought for the weaker kids in grade school. It was one of the first things he’d liked about her.

A woman appeared, a soft-spoken servant, and she gently guided Amy towards a large stone tub. The door closed behind them, leaving Dante standing alone in the hallway.

He replayed Prometheus’s warning. And now, Amy was here with him. She was Pandora. Pandora.

He ran a hand through his hair. They needed to figure out what to do next, and how to stop what she said was coming, thousands of years from now.

Prometheus had warned him not to wake Pandora, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that things were already in motion, far beyond his control. If Amy was Pandora, then why did he have to wake her? How? What did that mean? Was there something more to do to transform her into Pandora?

The scent of food drifted from down the hall, pulling him from his thoughts. Dante followed it into a large room where a table was set with platters of food—bread, meats, fruits, cheeses—all fresh and waiting. He realized how hungry he was, how long it had been since he’d eaten. He dropped into a chair, grabbed a piece of bread, and tore into it.

He ate in silence for a while, trying to shake off the weariness that clung to him, but his mind was restless. Just as he was about to reach for more food, the door opened, and Amy stepped in.

She was dressed in a pale blue gown, and her long damp hair was neatly braided back. She looked cleaner, more composed, but there was still a tiredness in her eyes, the kind that went deeper than just physical exhaustion. Dante stood as she entered, feeling an odd sense of relief just seeing her upright and moving.