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“Nearly there,” Riot encouraged, hauling himself into the boat while Wild held onto the other side, keeping the vessel steady. “Come here, Gracie.”
“Bullet first,” she insisted through chattering teeth.
Before Bullet could object, Riot leaned over, hooking his arms under Bullet’s armpits and yanking him out of the water. Riot carefully deposited Bullet in the boat before reaching for Grace, lifting her even more gently.
“Get the blankets out,” I instructed Bullet, tossing the sack I was holding into his lap.
“You next,” Riot ordered, grabbing my hand and pulling me up with a grunt of exertion. Grace, already bundled in a blanket with Bullet, handed me and Riot one to share, while Wild climbed into the boat with a slightly aggravating amount of ease even though he’d been standing in the water the longest.
“We have the coordinates,” Riot said, rattling off a bunch of numbers that meant nothing to me. “But since none of us know shit about sailing, I guess we’re going to have to try read the names of the boats in the dark and hope for the—”
The rowboat lurched suddenly, making each of us grab onto it for purchase as it started weaving through the water with no help from us.
“Nifty,” Bullet said with forced cheer. “Built-in GPS.”
“Yes, nifty,” I deadpanned, heart pounding out of my chest. We dried off with the blankets as best we could, teeth chattering loudly, before pulling our clothes back on. Even that felt like a monumental effort. My limbs just weren’t cooperating.
We swerved closer to the shoreline where an enormous bonfire was growing out of control. Someone threw a punch, but their opponent dodged it, knocking them into the water where they quickly emerged, shouting furiously. None of it was in English, but I felt like I got the gist without understanding the words. Wild’s breathing was labored, his teeth gritted together as he forced his eyes away from the violence on the shore.
Everyone wanted to get the fuck out of Athens where Gaia had unleashed her scorpions, and without an organized evacuation, they’d fight their way out to protect their loved ones. I doubted these people agreed with Mr. President’s statement that the goddesses didn’t exist. They’d experienced Gaia’s magic firsthand.
“What are we going to do?” Grace asked, her quiet voice difficult to hear over the crashing of the waves and the yelling and fighting of the people. “It wasn’t meant to be this way. Not just the darkness and everything, but thefighting. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“It was probably always going to be this way,” Bullet sighed, his face so pallid he was almost glowing in the darkness. “Change is hard—you told them that yourself in your speech. It doesn’t come easily, and it doesn’t happen overnight.”
Grace’s guilt brushed faintly at my psyche, a slightly unnerving but welcome sensation.
“Don’t feel bad,” I said firmly, huddling up to Riot in the hopes we’d both avoid hypothermia. “You didn’t ask for this. You couldn’t have controlled what two ancient, powerful goddesses decided to do. You can’t control the violent responses either. Fear makes people do irrational things.”
“Exactly,” Bullet agreed. “And once we’re somewhere a little less volatile, we can pray and I’ll try to visit Nyx in the dreamscape. I don’t love the idea of risking a goddess’ wrath when we’re in the middle of the ocean; drowning is not how I want to go.”
It was a weak attempt at a joke that may have landed better if Bullet didn’t appear to be actively dying right in front of our eyes.
The rowboat slowed as we approached a white sailboat that looked to be about thirty feet long. A light moved back and forth, and as we got closer I realized it was a daimon holding a torch in one hand and a gun in the other.
Great.
Riot, Wild, and I all tensed, shifting to hide Grace and Bullet from view.
“Please don’t shoot us,” Grace called out before any of us could speak, her voice far softer and more non-confrontational than any of us daimons could have managed.
“You’re Arsène, right?” Riot added. “Vasileios sent us to you.”
“You are her. The agathos,” Arsène replied, his accented voice carrying over the waves. It was a different accent from the mostly Greek ones I’d heard recently. French, perhaps? The rowboat brought us up to the very side of his vessel, and he peered over the railing at us. It was hard to see him from where we were, but he looked to be older, with chin-length hair that occasionally glinted silver in the torchlight, and deep wrinkles around his face, although he appeared bulky and strong. I had no idea what kind of daimon he was. “You are Grace.”
“I am. And I’m wanted by the authorities, so if you don’t feel comfortable helping us, I completely understand.”
“What did you say that for?!” Riot hissed.
Arsène set the gun down, holding up his empty hand. “You should board before anyone sees you, Grace the Agathos.”
The mysterious rowboat disappeared into the sea the moment we boarded, Arsène fussing with sails and muttering under his breath when we told him we needed to get to Ephesus.
The minute Arsène had the sails unfurled, the wind picked up, and he looked at us with narrowed eyes. “You have powerful friends.”
“The wind gods are descendents of Gaia,” Bullet replied, sounding confused in a way that was deeply unsettling. Bullet was supposed to know all the god stuff. “I’d like to think that this is a good sign, but I’m not confident.”
“Well, they are taking us in the right direction,” Arsène acknowledged gruffly, scratching his thick, gray beard. “But a good wind means everyone is moving too,” he added, gesturing at the other ships in the harbor.
