Authors: Michelle Paver
“W
hy?” demanded Hylas, pressing the scrap of flint to Telamon’s throat. “Just tell me why!”
“Why what?” gasped Telamon.
“Why did you lie to me?”
“I didn’t—I saved you!”
“You’re a Crow and you never told me!”
“I
saved
you! I stole my father’s chariot; he took the skin off my back! If you don’t believe me, take a look!”
Without relaxing his grip, Hylas yanked Telamon onto his belly. His shoulders were crisscrossed with weals.
In a flash Telamon twisted around and jabbed an elbow in Hylas’ ribs, then clamped his legs around Hylas’ head and flipped him over. Hylas landed with a winding thud and rolled sideways to dodge the attack.
It didn’t come.
“I’m not here to fight,” panted Telamon as he got to his feet.
“So you say,” snarled Hylas. “How do I know this isn’t a trick?”
“Because it’s
me
!” roared Telamon.
Hylas wiped the sweat from his face.
Telamon looked just the same. Same tunic, same warrior braids with the little lumps of clay at the ends to stop them coming loose. How could they be enemies?
“I’m glad you’re alive,” said Telamon ruefully, rubbing his neck. “We found the remains of that boat you stole, and we saw a shark. It was horrible.”
“Who’s ‘we’?” said Hylas between his teeth. “Your uncle and his men?”
Telamon blinked. “How do you know he’s my uncle?”
Hylas brushed that aside. “What about Scram? Did you bury him, or was that another lie?”
“Of course I buried him!”
“And Issi? Did you even bother to look for her?”
“Yes, but—”
“And that plan to go around the coast to the other side of the mountains? It was a trick so I’d be washed out to Sea and never come back!”
“No, Hylas, it wasn’t. The day after you went off in the chariot, I started over the pass.” Telamon flushed. “My father sent some men. They fetched me back to Lapithos.”
“Why should I believe you? You’re a Crow and you never told me!”
“Don’t keep calling them Crows!” shouted Telamon. “All I knew was that I had kin in Mycenae, I’d never even
met
them till a few days ago! But there wasn’t time to explain it to you; I had to get you out of there before they caught you!”
“There was plenty of time, we’ve known each other four years!”
“And when did you ever show the slightest interest in my life at Lapithos?” Telamon shot back. “You’re just like the villagers, you don’t want to know about the outside world!”
“So it’s my fault,” sneered Hylas. “And everything you did was to help me.”
“Why’s that so hard to believe?” Suddenly Telamon slumped on a fallen tree. “This feels like being torn in two,” he muttered. “Just by being here, I dishonor myself and betray my kin.”
“So I should feel sorry for you?” Hylas said coldly.
Telamon gave him a strange look. “You don’t know what it’s like. Until a few days ago, all I knew was that I had kin in Mycenae. Father had kept us separate from them; he said it was best.” He clenched his fists. “Not all members of the House of Koronos are bad, Hylas. My father isn’t bad, and neither am I.”
“Your father stood by while they hunted Outsiders.”
“He hated that. But there was nothing he could do. You don’t know Kratos.”
“So why did Kratos hunt Outsiders?”
Telamon kneaded his forehead. “There’d been omens in Mycenae. They said the House of Koronos was under threat from some danger in Lykonia; they didn’t say what. Then a precious heirloom of our clan was stolen. Koronos—my grandfather—he sent two of his sons here, to this island, to
make a great sacrifice and seek the gods’ help in getting it back. He sent Kratos to Lykonia. Kratos and Father consulted the Oracle. She spoke so strangely; she said,
If an Outsider wields the blade, the House of Koronos burns.
” His face worked. “Kratos was convinced it meant an Outsider had stolen the—the heirloom.”
“So he started hunting us down and killing us.”
“When I last saw you, I knew
nothing
of this!” Telamon said fiercely. “But after you’d gone off in the chariot, Father gave me a beating for helping you—yes, Hylas, he’d found out about us—and afterward, he told me. About why he’d kept us separate all these years, and about the Oracle, and what had been stolen. By then Kratos was after you alone, because—because there were no other Outsiders left in Lykonia.”
“Except Issi,” said Hylas.
“To Kratos she didn’t count because she’s a girl.” Again he kneaded his forehead. “When Father’s men caught up with me and took me back to Lapithos, Kratos was there. He’d had word from the coast. An Outsider boy had stolen a boat and escaped into a Sea mist. I knew it was you. I begged Father to let me go in Kratos’ ship to look for you. I said I needed to—to prove my loyalty, and make up for having helped you.”
Hylas waited for him to go on.
“Father let me. He hadn’t told Kratos that you and I were friends; and he believed me when I said I was trying to make amends. Do you realize what that means? It
means I lied to him yet again. And it means that if Kratos finds out I’m trying to help you, he’ll kill me!”
Hylas had no answer to that. He wanted to believe Telamon, but he couldn’t risk it. “How can I trust you,” he said, “when you kept so much from me? You never told me about your kin, or the dagger, or—” He cut himself short.
Silence between them. Damselflies darted among the thistles. From high overhead came the shrill cries of swifts.
Telamon had gone very still. “I never said it was a dagger. How come you know it’s a dagger?”
Hylas did not reply. He watched the realization dawn in his friend’s face.
“And I
swore
it wasn’t you,” said Telamon. “I told Father you couldn’t have taken it. You didn’t even know it existed.”
“I didn’t steal it,” said Hylas.
“But you do know about it. And you—have got it?”
“Yes.”
Telamon backed away from him, shaking his head. “All this time—I was
defending
you…”
“I told you, I didn’t steal it.”
Telamon wasn’t listening. “Where is it?” he demanded.
Hylas snorted. “Do you think I’d risk bringing it with me?”
Telamon opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. “How do I know you’re not lying? How do I know it’s really the one?”
Hylas hesitated. But he’d said too much already; there was no point denying it. “It’s got a crossed circle on the hilt,” he said. “A chariot wheel to crush your enemies.”
“Someone could have told you that. I need more proof.”
Hylas thought for a moment. “At dawn when the Sun hits it, the edge turns red, like it’s just drawn blood. And when you hold it, you feel stronger than you’ve ever felt before.”
Telamon’s jaw dropped. “All this time—it
was
you.”
“I didn’t steal it, Telamon. That’s the truth. I didn’t even know what it was until yesterday.”
Telamon snatched up a stick and paced the clearing, slashing at thistles. When he turned to Hylas he looked older, and very much the son of a Chieftain. “Bring it to me,” he said curtly.
“What?”
“Give it to me. I’ll say I found it. Then they won’t be after you anymore.”
“But once the Crows get it, they can’t be beaten. Why would I let that happen?”
“Not all Crows—as you call them—are bad. Maybe Father and I can find some way to restore the honor of our House…”
Again Hylas snorted.
“All right, if that doesn’t convince you, how about this? Giving me the dagger is your only way out.”
“No. I won’t do it.”
“Don’t you know how powerful they are?” Telamon
burst out. “Oh, it’s all right for you, you’ve never
seen
Kratos when he’s angry! And he has brothers, and—there’s Koronos himself!”
Hylas looked at him. “You’re scared of them,” he said. “Scared of your own kin.”
“Well, of course I am!” shouted Telamon. “And so is my father—
my father,
Chieftain of Lykonia! So would you be if you had any idea what they can do! Hylas, this is your only chance! I’ll tell them I saw your body floating near the coast, but that I couldn’t reach it. I’ll say I found the dagger in the shallows. I’ll help you escape. You’ll be safe!”
“What about Issi?”
Silence. Telamon ran his thumb over his bottom lip. “I—I know where she is.”
Hylas went still. “Tell me.”
“Hylas—”
“
Tell me!
Have they got her? Is she all right?”
He advanced on Telamon, who took a step back. “They haven’t got her and she’s all right, but…” He paused. “I’ll only tell you where she is if you give me the dagger.”
Hylas stared at him as if he’d never seen him before. “You would do that? You’d bargain with my sister’s life?”
“I’m not! I’m saying that I won’t tell you till I’ve got the dagger. Can’t you see, Hylas, if they don’t get it back, they’ll never stop hunting you? But if I tell you where she is now, you’ll never give it up!”
Hylas wanted to rage and shout. But Telamon was right. “Dawn,” he spat. “Head north. You’ll come to a
shipwreck on the rocks. Meet me there at dawn. I’ll bring the knife.”
Telamon gave him a searching look. “Do you mean this?”
“What do you think?”
He chewed his lip. “It’ll be hard to get away. Kratos—”
“I don’t care. If you’re not there by dawn, you’ll never see me or the dagger again.”
“B
ut it’s a trap!” Pirra said in a hoarse whisper.
“If it was a trap, he’d have sprung it by now. Besides, he wouldn’t do a thing like that.”
“Oh, no? I’ve met boys like him in the House of the Goddess. They talk about honor, but that’s just words.”
“You don’t know Telamon.”
“And you do?”
Hylas didn’t reply.
It was the middle of the night, and their camp was dark as pitch. Angrily, Pirra groped her way to the spring, where she washed off the soot of the burned valley, and finger-combed her hair. She was furious with Hylas, and annoyed with herself for being so shaken when she’d woken and found him gone.
The cold water stung her cheek, but made her feel better; so when Hylas came for a wash, she made room for him. He’d clearly never combed his hair in his life, so she showed him how to tease out the knots; but most were so bad that he simply cut them off.
With a twinge of unease, she watched him tie back what
was left with a twist of grass. Warriors purify themselves before battle. He was expecting a fight.
And he was keen to get moving. He said he wanted to reach the wreck before Telamon, in case he didn’t come alone.
“Ah, so you do think it might be a trap,” said Pirra.
He didn’t answer.
They kept to the wooded slopes: Pirra bumping into trees, Hylas moving as silently as a shadow. At length he halted at a clump of boulders that leaned together as if sharing a secret.
“Why’d you stop?” panted Pirra.
For answer, he asked if he could cut a strip from the bottom of her tunic. She asked why, and he muttered that she’d see. Once he had the scrap of linen, he found a stick the same size as the dagger, and wrapped it up. Then he handed Pirra the real dagger, keeping the bundled-up stick for himself.
“This is a good place to hide,” he told her. “Stay out of sight till I get back.”
She blinked. “But—I’m coming with you.”
“No. You can’t help me this time. And I need you to look after the dagger.”
She made to reply, but he talked her down. “If I don’t come back, stay hidden till you’re sure they’ve left the island. And whatever happens,
don’t
let them get the dagger.”
Already he was heading off into the trees. She ran after
him. “Don’t be stupid, Hylas, I’m coming with you! Hylas?”
But he’d vanished into the dark. She knew it would be hopeless to try to find him.
It was uncomfortable, huddling behind the boulders and waiting for dawn. Strange birds clattered about in the trees, and some huge creature came snuffling so close that she caught its peppery smell. Clutching the dagger, she growled at it to go
away
—and to her astonishment it did, crashing down the slope. She wondered if she’d just met her first boar…