Page 3 of The Brothers Bane

I silently contemplate this information as I fall into step with her, and we head toward the rear of the barn past the fighting ring.

The air back here is dense, tinged with the scent of sweat and leather. Shafts of moonlight spill from small windows high in the walls above, casting a checkerboard pattern across the well-worn floor.

My gaze skims the fighting ring at its center. The worn ropes are evidence of countless skirmishes, while the canvas mat reflects the toils of the combatants in its scuffs and stains. An earthy smell of raw linen mixes with a faint, metallic hint of blood—old battles lingering like ghosts as these women fought out their demons. Were they running too?

The area around the ring reminds me of Chrysaor’s room, with its array of armor and weapons displayed like honored relics of war. Punching bags hang from sturdy beams, their surfaces a patchwork of repairs. Kettlebells and dumbbells lay scattered on racks, dulled and chipped from use. Gloves, some new with pristine leather and others aged with cracked seams, wait silently for their next training session.

I can almost hear the echoes of grunts and shouts that must fill this place in daylight, resonating within these walls as the Amazons train and spar with the women they protect. The atmosphere holds a palpable energy—a testament to strength and determination of those who seek refuge here—yet in this moment, it lies dormant, holding its breath as we pass through.

Or maybe I’m the one holding my breath, uncertainty gripping me about this new place I’ve been tossed into, leaving me feeling again like I have no control over the trajectory of my life and wondering whether I ever really did—or ever would.

Despite the sense of being pulled along a track, I feel untethered, at the mercy of whichever direction the winds of Fate might blow. The only thing that allows me to feel grounded is my link to the mates I’ve bonded, which I hesitate to reach for now, lest I risk Vesh finding me and hauling me back to the prison.

Which didn’t even feel like a prison until Chrysaor told me I couldn’t leave. Am I doomed to never recognize when I’m trapped until it’s too late?

“Where are we going?” I ask, following my statuesque guide through a rough-hewn wooden door in the rear of the barn.

“We have a policy of never turning away women in need. You’ll get a bunk for the night and a meal. Supper is over, but the kitchen is open. Are you hungry?”

“Do you have a library?” I blurt.

She turns back to look at me and cocks her head. “Yeah. Do you want something to read?”

“For research,” I say, suddenly feeling stupid for asking. “On… whatever I can learn about, um, Amazons.”

She lets out a small snort and stabs her thumb at her chest. “You want to research Amazons? Why not just ask an Amazon?”

My face heats and I mumble, “Yeah, that would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

She gives me a wry smile. “There’s always the internet too, though if you have access to the source, it seems silly not to use it. What do you want to know?”

I suddenly draw a blank, grasping at anything to make conversation. “What’s your name?” I finally ask.

“Melanippe. Everyone calls me Mel. I’m Antiope’s second, and her sister, in case you didn’t think you were important enough for the general’s attention.”

“That hadn’t occurred to me. I’m nobody.”

She snorts again and stops beneath a pool of light from one of many strands of bulbs that are strung overhead between the buildings. She’s darker in complexion than Antiope, with jet-black hair arranged in tight coils against her scalp. The stripe of a faint scar runs down the side of her face, ending just below her jaw and causing a deep crease to form when she frowns.

“You make the earth move when you’re upset, Nemea. Even if you weren’t also sought by Chaos—and potentially the Titans too—power like that makes you someone. Alcides did the right thing bringing you to us. We can teach you to command that power in a constructive way. Ordestructive, if that’s what’s warranted.”

“Anything’s got to be more constructive than how they were doing it. Not that I can complain.”

“Let me guess—they were using sex as a training tool. Yet you still left. If they forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do, we can make them pay.”

“No, I was willing. I’d have stayed if Vesh hadn’t tricked me into being there in the first place. He told me I was free to leave, except he left out the part thatnobodythere is really free to leave. Except Alcides, I guess.”

She studies me for a moment, as if assessing whether I’m being honest about not being forced. After a moment she shrugs. “Yeah, his sentence was self-imposed. Come on, let’s find you some food before I show you to your bunk for the night.”

She starts up a path on a slight incline that leads to a large building overlooking the valley. A motion-activated spotlight blasts to life when we reach the steps, so bright it startles me. The bulb instantly shatters.

“Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“I hate that fucking light. Don’t worry about it.”

“You seem to know a lot about Alcides. What else can you tell me?” I ask, continuing through the shadows until we reach a door sporting a glass window lit from within. The atmosphere when we step inside reminds me of the downstairs cafe at the school where Rachel and I sat up, eating cereal and poring over books about Greek myths. This place has a distinctly more Mediterranean feel, though, with whitewashed plaster walls and worn stone floors. But it smells sweetly of coffee and baked things, which makes my stomach rumble.

Mel doesn’t miss a beat, heading straight to the back through a set of swinging doors. Through a pass-through, I watch as she opens a fridge to haul out an assortment of chilled meats and cheeses, as well as several jars of olives and pickles. She piles everything on a large cutting board, popping an olive into her mouth as she heads to the nearest table and motions for me to sit.

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