Page 75 of A Tribute of Fire

I started my own hole and something strange was happening. There was a humming in the ground, a vibration I could feel. Was this thehealing she had spoken of? This sensation that seemed to travel up through my fingers and spread throughout all my limbs? Or was it something else?

It was as if there were a pool just beyond my fingertips. A reservoir of power. Or magic. I didn’t know how else to describe it, but it waited for me. Although no matter how deep I dug, it continued to stay frustratingly out of reach.

I placed both of my palms against the black soil and the feeling intensified. Like if I could only figure out how to harness it, direct it, I would be able to do magic myself.

While I was doing this, Io had kept up a monologue, talking about the kind of work she did with plants, that I only half listened to. Something about weeding and fertilizing and making sure that there wasn’t any blight or rot or too many predatory bugs.

Given how caught up I was in trying to figure out what was happening with the dirt, it took me a moment to register that Io had fallen suspiciously quiet. I pulled up my hands and lifted my head and saw that three women had entered the gardens.

Every instinct inside me screamed that they were enemies.

They wore green tunics that were a slightly darker shade than Io’s. I’d figured out the oldest priestesses wore the darkest green and the acolytes the lightest. These three women were a bit older than us and looked like most of the people I’d come across since leaving Locris. Light brown skin, dark brown hair.

I reminded myself that I was new here and didn’t know everything. They might be friends with Io.

The woman in the center bent slightly at the waist and said to Io, “Are you enjoying digging your dung?” The other two girls laughed cruelly.

Not friends.

Io was on her hands and knees and ignored the trio.

“I’m speaking to you,” the leader sneered and kicked at Io, knocking her down.

“Stop!” I said, getting up, my head spinning. I didn’t know what kind of medicines they’d administered to me in the infirmary, but it felt as if they hadn’t cleared my system yet. I was a bit woozy and weak and in no state to fight.

The woman whirled on me. “And who’s going to stop me? You?”

I balled my hands into fists. I hated people who preyed on those weaker than them. Hitting someone might help with this overwhelming rage and sadness I was feeling. Even if I wasn’t at full strength yet, I at least had the benefit of training to assist me.

“Yes, me.”

She smiled with amusement. “You must be the Locrian. Nice haircut.”

Her cohorts laughed again and I tightened my fists.

The woman came over and walked in a wide circle around me. “You’re the first Locrian I’ve ever seen.” When she finished she stopped directly in front of me and said conspiratorially, “It’s amazing you survived. I’ve heard that the captured maidens are cut up into pieces and sold off, to be used in potions.”

A weight settled hard against my chest. That couldn’t be true. I wouldn’t allow it to be. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” she mocked.

“Artemisia,” Io said to the woman tormenting me in an attempt to come to my aid, but the other girls grabbed her, pulling her up and holding her arms behind her back so that she couldn’t move.

Io did not deserve to be treated this way. “Tell them to stop.”

This Artemisia glanced over her shoulder. “No, I don’t think I will.”

“I will make them,” I said, threatening all three. They were nearly as tall as me, but I had fought much taller and stronger people. I wasn’t worried about taking on some flower-loving acolytes.

Artemisia grinned and drew a sword from its sheath. How had I missed that she was carrying a weapon? “Come and stop us, then,” she challenged.

I swore under my breath, furious that I’d left my xiphos back in my room. “I’m unarmed.”

She threw her sword to the ground. “I don’t need a weapon to beat you.” She raised both of her fists in front of her face.

I tried not to smile. Artemisia had no idea what she was going up against. Boxing had been a regular part of my regimen, in large part to help build up my muscles and reflexes. This almost seemed unfair.

And I believed in my own superiority clear up until the moment when her fist connected to my face, sending me whirling back. She went to hit me with her other fist and I was able to throw up my arm, blocking the shot.

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