Page 43 of Unlikely Omega

So I restart, move through the familiar positions—greet the sky, arms extended over my head. Touch the horizon, sliding one leg forward, lowering my center of balance. Reach for the birds, arms moving in a circle.

Kiss the earth.

Crouching, I place both my palms on the ground and prepare to take the moon salutation position, wondering why for the first time in my life I feel like a fool as I dance for my gods—the gods that didn’t claim me, the gods I never really believed in, the gods I hoped would save me, would speak to me but never deigned.

A jolt goes through me.

I groan.

Horses. The pounding of horses’ hooves, dozens, maybe more, travels up my arms. I can’t tell which direction they’re coming from, only that they are close.

Too close.

Ariadne. I shoot to my feet, turn around and make for my horse. Fuck, she’s in danger and it’s all my damn fault.

I got to find her, now.

The wind cuts through me like a knife as I lead my horse upslope and then onto even ground. The cold isn’t doing me any favors. My ribs are fucking killing me. It’s distracting.

I don’t need any distractions. Finding her will be hard enough.

At least it’s not raining, though the whistling and moaning of the wind take away my most precious natural sense, that of hearing.

Hearing her.

“Ariadne!” I roar, but the wind also takes away my voice, unwinds and unfolds it until it’s a thin thread flying off and disappearing in the sky. “Where are you?”

I keep the reins loose, allowing the horse to pick his or her way. It’s not as if I can see where I’m going. We climb up and down, hillocks and rises in the land, and my hair whips about me until I twist it up in a topknot, exasperated.

But most exasperating is the fact that she’s gone, and I’m the one who pushed her away, and now I can’t fucking find her. I’d say I deserve this—but she doesn’t. She hasn’t done anything wrong and now I can’t find her to warn her about the riders coming this way.

I call out her name from time to time, but I’m starting to lose hope—or maybe regain it, because perhaps she managed to get far enough not to be in danger of this oncoming cavalry.

And that’s when I hear her scream.

My fucking heart stops in my chest. For a long moment, I can’t draw any air, can’t formulate a single thought, the reins digging into my palms.

Just… fuck.

And then I dig my heels into the horse’s flanks.

“Find her,” I hiss and hope the horse knows what I mean, but it doesn’t matter. I know which way her scream came from, so I pull on the reins and turn the right way.

The way to her.

14

ARIADNE

They come out of nowhere, five sleek horses and their armored riders, surrounding me like water, closing the circle, turning inward to face me, spears at the ready.

Their helmets are black with silver designs, their breastplates too, their spears decorated with red and black ribbons. The empire’s colors.

Military men.

My horse jumps back, shakes her head, bucks a little. She’s frightened. “What do you want?” I call out. “I’m on Temple business. Leave me alone.”

They don’t speak. Don’t reply. One of them grabs and yanks on the reigns of the two horses I’ve been pulling along away from me. The leather burns my palm and the inside of my fingers as it slips away.

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