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“What the hell is that?” Kalistratos asks.
“Something that shouldn’t be here,” I say to him. I pick up the CD player and examine it. There’s nothing inside it; no disc or batteries or anything, and there are no headphones. Then under the flickering torchlight, I notice a smudge of ink on the bottom, near the label. What is that? Is that Sharpie? Someone’s name? It’s dark, the ink is smeared and faded.
Kalistratos grabs my arm. “Time to fly.”
The tall doors at the front of the storehouse creak and the growling voices of the guards grow louder. In a panic, I drop the player back into the chest and slam the lid. Kalistratos pulls me into the shadows behind a shelf packed full of paper scrolls and clamps his hand across my mouth. He’s holding me against his chest, and I can feel his warm breath on my ear. My heart pounds hard.
The two guards prowl into the storehouse.
“Hear something?” one asks.
“Must be the rats,” the other replies.
The first guard drops onto all fours and sniffs at the floor. “Big rats,” he says.
Kalistratos carefully removes his hand from my mouth and points at the window. I nod. We move slowly, skirting along the wall behind the treasure. The guards are now looking at the chest with the CD player in it. One of them splits off and goes across the room to the opposite side.
“How easy would it be to pinch a few drachmae?” he says.
“Why drachmae when you can have yourself a new sword?” replies the other, picking up a gold-encrusted scabbard.
I take a cautious step over a helmet with giant bullhorns. We’re getting closer to the window. How the hell we’re going to get up there without being spotted, I have no clue. The only thing keeping me from freaking the fuck out is Kalistratos. I keep looking back to make sure he’s there behind me. His bronze eyes are narrowed and focused and his face is as calm as can be. He nods reassuringly at me.
It's odd how someone I barely even know can make me feel so comforted, but any port in a storm, I guess. And he was the one who pulled me into this situation. I should be mad at his thieving ass, not comforted by it. His ass, though. The tunic he’s wearing comes down to the thigh, and that means quite a view?—
With a loud squeak, a huge rat scurries out from the helmet’s faceplate and zooms right over my open-toed sandals.
I’m not afraid of rats. I think they’re pretty damn cute, actually. But turns out watching cuddly rats on my phone is a lot different than having one the size of a cat crawl across your foot. The gasp comes out of my mouth without a chance for me to stop it. Kalistratos freezes and we both drop behind the cover of a large vase. Amphorae? Those big jars with the black paintings on them. The wolf guards snort and snarl—they’ve heard us, and now they’re hauling the chests aside and tearing the place apart. Kalistratos grasps the hilt of one of the knives on his belt and a sliver of blade gleams like an opening eye.
“Use your powers,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “Can’t. I spent the rest of it rescuing you.”
You’ve gotta be kidding me. His powers have a refractory period?
“That’s fucking inconvenient.”
“There is a way to regenerate them quickly, but now probably isn’t the time…”
“How is now not the time?” I hiss under my breath.
“Aha!” one of the guards shouts as he flips a bronze shield. It tumbles across the floor and whirls around noisily like a coin at the end of its spin. An entire herd of those huge rats goes sprinting in all directions.
“Snacks!” the other guard barks, and they both draw their swords and chase the rats out of the storehouse.
Kalistratos and I look at each other and sprint for the window. My climbing skills are a lot better when impending doom is a factor. I’m up and over. I drop down the other side and tuck into a roll across the paved stone ground. Kalistratos is right behind me. He helps me reach the tree branch, and soon we’re sprinting up the hill away from the treasury storehouse. I’m laughing. None of it is funny, but I can’t stop. Kalistratos is laughing too. I feel giddy in a way I haven’t since I was a kid. I feelalive.
Kalistratos places a silver coin at the edge of the table as the serving boy sets down a platter of grilled chicken, bread, olives, sliced eggs topped with goat cheese, two small bowls of lentil soup, and two cups of wine. He takes the coin, rummages through a waist pouch, and places change on the table.
My stomach growls audibly, and any thoughts of politeness fly out the window. I tear into the chicken. It’s plump and moist, and a bit of juice dribbles down the side of my chin. I actually let out a moan.
Kalistratos bows his head for a moment, muttering something to himself, then digs in.
“What was that?” I ask. “A prayer?”
“Just a little reminder to the Great Phoenix that his clan is still here,” he says. “And hopefully, he’ll continue to support me in my quest.”
“Tell me more,” I say, tearing off a bite of bread as I stuff olives into my mouth.
