“I need you to tell your crazy warriors you’re going to live-not to skewer you like Sunday’s chicken.” I rubbed harder, partially to get the ink off faster, partially to get out my frustration.

“Sunday’s chicken?” she mumbled, and half her mouth, the half I’d freed, lifted in a smile.

I loved her right then. As much as I’d loved her before the whole ugly blowup. And my anger fled. So, she’d chosen Alcippe and the tribe over me. It didn’t matter. I’d never had a friend like Zery, someone who understood me and accepted me as well.

I needed to accept her too. She’d made her choice. It was part of who she was. She wouldn’t be Zery if she hadn’t.

Her mouth clean of ink, I knee-walked to her feet, rubbed the heel of my hand over my eyes as I did. Then, while she barked out orders like the queen she was, I scrubbed away the killer’s marks and planned how I’d scrub him or her away too.

I tried to stay with Zery after that, but the Amazons moved in, and the looks they shot me were far from thankful or trusting. I could have stayed anyway, had enough rage simmering inside me to challenge the lot of them, but Zery was tired. I could see it in the dark circles that had formed under her eyes and the way her lower lip seemed to pull downward when she spoke.

She was using every ounce of her reserves to reassure her troops she was the titanium-clad superwoman they’d always known. She didn’t need me mucking everything up by acting all concerned and caring-or by letting my pent-up aggression run free. So, I finished my job, clamped my mouth shut, and pointed my body toward my shop.

Tonight I’d go back to bed, stare at the ceiling, and think about how I was going to find the bastard who was doing all this. I already knew what I’d do to him when I did.

The next morning my resolve was just as strong, but the strain of balancing my Amazon espionage with regular life was taking its toll too. My soul was ablaze, but my body and mind were tired. Two pieces of pumpkin pie helped perk up the body, and knowing Harmony would be starting art class that afternoon eased some tension in my overtaxed brain.

I’d sorted out the details of Harmony’s enrollment last night before all the excitement. I had talked with Makis on the phone after discovering he had no Web site or email address, was apparently as much of a Luddite as my grandmother. Harmony was a little distressed that Rachel’s parents hadn’t yet agreed for her to attend too-they valued things like time for homework on school nights. But in ever-confident teenage fashion, my daughter and her friend had worked out a plan to wear them down.

As long as Harmony was accounted for, I didn’t care. Rachel’s parents could worry about battling their own determined teen. May Artemis bless them all.

With Harmony off to school and my belly full of starch and sugar, I headed to the gym. I needed to hear Zery’s version of her attack. I hoped the warriors were giving her some distance today.

The day was colder-one of the freaky pleasures of living in southern Wisconsin. Day-to-day temperature ranges of thirty degrees were not unheard of. I wrapped a ratty hoodie around my body and bulldozed my way through the wind.

Zery was in the gym, pummeling a weight bag with her staff. When I entered, the temperature in the room dropped another thirty degrees, at least. And I had thought it was an outdoors thing.

Shrugging off the warriors’ icy stares, I pulled back my hood and strutted across the battered wood floor.

“I could never decide if you were the bravest person I know or the dumbest.” Zery spun and whacked the bag with her foot.

I waited for it to slow its erratic jumping, then grabbed hold. “Cliché,” I said, trying to look nonchalant, like seeing her there so healthy and strong didn’t affect me, didn’t make me want to pull her in for a hug.

She stopped, her chest moving up and down from her exertion. “Don’t you mean touché?”

“Nope.” I grinned at her, my way of apologizing for the horrible things I’d thought of her in the past.

She grunted. But the corner of her lip edged up a little.

She dropped the staff and slammed a fist into the bag. I held on.

“So, you going to tell me what happened?” I asked.

“I could ask you the same thing. I’ve heard some pretty crazy allegations already. And I haven’t seen Pisto yet. She went on a run, but I hear she’s pissed.”

“Pisto pissed? I can’t imagine.”

Zery slammed the bag with another kick, knocking me back a few steps. I tightened my grip and grounded my stance.

“You’re a smart-ass too. I’d forgotten that.” Another kick, then a laugh. She shook her head. “I take that back. I hadn’t. How could I?”

“Someone had to keep your big old ‘I am queen’ head in line.”

She took a step back and folded her arms over her chest. The laughter left her face. “But then you left, and I had to fend for myself.”

“Yeah. Bad times.” I patted the bag, pretended to take extra time slowing it to a complete stop.

She heaved out a breath and stared at me like she could see inside me. Which wasn’t far-fetched. There had been a time I’d thought Zery knew what I was thinking before I did. “Okay, Mel. Let’s talk. I’ll tell you what happened to me, but you have to give something too. I need to know what you’re hiding-all of it.”

I curled my fingers against the bag and scratched the surface of the ancient leather.

Tell Zery what I am hiding. I wished I could-I did. But if I told her I’d known about the girls for weeks, had hauled both of them off without coming to the tribe…She was queen. I’d gotten angry at her before for being who and what she was. I wouldn’t again, but just like I wouldn’t blame a bull for goring me, I wouldn’t stand in front of it with a red cape either. Not unless I had a pretty fancy dance worked out, which I didn’t, not yet.

I stared at my hand. Tiny flecks of red were embedded under my short-cropped nails.

I met her gaze. “I’ll tell you what I did last night.”

“That’s not what I asked for.”

I shrugged. “It’s all I’ve got.”

She dropped to a squat, picked up her staff, and swung it toward my feet, all in one graceful motion. Without thinking, I somersaulted forward in a tiny leap that propelled my body over the staff and back on my feet.

Also on her feet, Zery placed the end of her staff on the floor. “It’s not all you’ve got-not by a long shot, but it’s all you’ll give me. Fair enough-for now.”

Chapter Fourteen

We went to the cafeteria to talk. It was the closest thing we had to neutral ground. And since it was almost nine by this point, the place was empty. I made myself at home, grabbing us coffee and cream.

“You thinking of adding hearth-keeping to your list of skills?” Zery took a sip of her coffee, black, of course.

In the process of adding cream to mine, I smiled. “I might. Just to annoy Mother, if for no other reason.”

She tilted her head. “When are you going to stop competing with your family?” The question was light, but it hit home. Still, I decided to keep my answer equally light in tone.

“Have you met my family? I have no hope of ever beating them. I might as well get some fun out of annoying them.”

“You don’t fool me.”

I looked at her, surprised and a little frightened, but she kept talking.

“Believing you were in your family’s shadow is the only thing that ever stopped you. You could have been queen. Maybe should have.”

I laughed, spewing coffee across the tabletop. That was a good one. I looked up, thinking to share the joke with Zery, but her expression was set. She was serious.

“Yeah, so what happened yesterday…” I prompted.

She flicked her gaze from her coffee to me and back. For a second I thought she was going to push the whole “living in the shadow of your family” thing, but she didn’t.