Sparkling Ivy

12

Sirce pulled Atalanta into her arms, body trembling. The girl blinked wearily at the princess. "They got me good, huh?"
Sirce smiled, tears prickling the back of her eyes. "Some huntress you are Atalanta."

Her throat tightened as warmth and wet seeped into her hands. Sirce wet her lips and gently held up her friend, hands pressed where the red was leaking. The metallic scent was heavy in the air, even against the salty breeze that caught in the sails of Drakōn.

Atalanta chuckled softly. "Your Patron did a good job with our ride. I didn't think the gods granted mortals with such vessels anymore."

The princess snorted, gazing at the sails, the stern. All unmanned and yet their journey couldn't have been smoother unless Llyr Waters himself sailed it. For that Alcmene was to be commended.

"My stepfather will be fuming." Sirce chewed thoughtfully on her lip, blue eyes narrowed. Let's hope my escape keeps him at bay. Surely Ixion wouldn't dare to come after me so soon. Not after his embarrassing defeat. No Archon wished to be thwarted, especially by a woman.

A hiss of pain. Sirce startled and pressed her hand harder on Atalanta's abdomen. The huntress grit her teeth, eyes blinking hard. "Sirce, just stop."

The princess snarled. "Shut up."

She could feel blood pouring between her fingers, hear the rushed breaths escaping Atalanta. Sirce seized the other girl's hand and pressed it to the wound. "Hold that. Press hard."

The huntress sighed and obeyed, although there was a panic behind her eyes. A panic Sirce was dancing on the brink of. The princess gazed about desperately at a total loss. She was no healer, no acolyte of Nell Bright. Sirce's nostrils flared as she stared at the huntress helplessly. Do something, Sirce. This is your fault.

Atalanta sat up, eyes watering.

"No. You need to lie down," Sirce barked. The woman ignored her, shuffling backward so her body could slump awkwardly against the rail. The princess scrambled after her, heart pounding. Atalanta snickered softly, head turned toward the sky. "Lying down doesn't change much, Sirce. Just makes me look weak."

"Leaning like this will-will push more blood out!"

Sirce rose to her feet with hands planted firmly on each hip. Atalanta just cackled at her, skin flushed with pained amusement. "You don't know the first thing about healing, you're just embarrassing yourself Your Highness."

"Oh shut it."

For a split second she forgot her friend was bleeding heavily, the revulsion of Your Highness all too fresh.

"I defended you from those brutes in the woods, now I must save this fool? You mortals really despise the laws of nature."

Sirce spun around, wide eyed as she met the steely gaze of Alcmene. The goddess was staring down her nose at Atalanta, lip curled. Her green eyes flashed in the sunlight as Sirce answered, "She is no fool. She saved my life, Alcmene."

Alcmene laughed harshly and stalked to the huntress, kneeling down slowly. Atalanta seemed to recoil as the goddess fixed her gaze on her, one hand in the folds of her peplos. Sirce's Patron sniffed, teeth peeking out menacingly. Her tongue could have cut stone as she leered, "I'm a Patron, not some magical little helper."
"And I am a princess of value to you." Sirce puffed out her chest, hair tossing in the breeze. "Without Atalanta, we must part ways."

A chilly snicker. Alcmene's green glow brightened to a sparkle. The princess could not help but cower as the shadow of the goddess lengthened, a darkness gathered in those keen eyes. Shit.

"You think that is your choice to make?" Alcmene taunted as she stood and tilted her chin up. "You do realise you would be dead without me. I could have left you with those ruffians..."

Sirce swallowed and replied, "You said we needed her."

There was a pause. Alcmene clenched her jaw, eyes unwavering as she stared her down. Sirce sighed, shoulders sagging. Sincerity shone behind her eyes as she breathed, "Atalanta saved my life; I would not have made it onto this ship without her. Please."

The goddess frowned and glanced at where Atalanta was laid, clothes drenched with crimson. Alcmene groaned, tugging on one of her long curls. "This alliance seems one-sided to me."

Sirce scoffed. "You know that's not true. You're the Patron of Women. Is it not your duty to aid her?"

Alcmene wrinkled her nose. "She is a maiden of Auryon. That falls under her jurisdiction."

A wet cough. A tiny gasp.

Sirce ran to Atalanta. The huntress's eyes were heavily lidded, her head almost lolling to the side. Atalanta's complexion was unusually pale, her chest rising weakly. The princess could do nothing but watch as her huntress began to slip.

Alcmene did nothing, just watched on in calculated boredom. Sirce did not have the strength to berate her; at this point the goddess was her last resort. Angering her is not worth it. Not today, anyway.

A shudder of fear rippled down the princess's shoulder blades as Atalanta's hand weakly grasped the back of her neck. Sirce let her ear be guided to Atalanta's lips.

"Don't be angry at her, Sirce."

A lump was forming in her throat. The princess grit her teeth, eyes shining. She could only stiffly nod.

Atalanta's lips moved again. "Don't be."

"Fine." Sirce's voice was haggard and straining with feeling. She felt the huntress smile. She would not disturb Atalanta with the furious fear quelling inside. Instead, she met the impartial gaze of her Patron.

You must help her. Or this is over.

My, my. So cocky. You really believe I couldn't find another like you, Sirce?

Alcmene was smiling as she turned her back. Her footsteps sounded like thunderclaps against the deck. There was something about her nonchalance that made Sirce want to crawl out of her skin. Like Alcmene had played games like this before. She has you stupid girl.

Sirce grunted and flew to her feet. "I call on you as the Patron of Women, Alcmene Guardian. I call on you to defend this woman with whatever means at your disposal. It is sacred law"

The goddess did not turn. Sirce cringed as the silence lingered.

Finally, a reply. Bright, glittering laughter.

Well played, child. Perhaps you are not a lost cause.