My Tattered Bonds (Page 14)

He strode quickly away from us down the hill without looking back. His shoulders were as broad as a doorway and he walked with purpose. My mother looked to me.

“Well, that’s that, then,” she smiled. “Let’s go, sweetling.”

The hill was steeper than it looked and it took quite a lot of work to remain balanced as we climbed down through the thick grasses. I was once again thankful for my boots. The weeds and grass were scratchy and thick. Ortrera and her warriors had boots similar to mine, so they were protected as well, but I could see red welt forming on my mother’s legs. To her credit, she didn’t complain.

Cadmus reached over and caught my fingers and we held hands as we picked through the bristly wildflowers. There were so many blooming that it really should smell good here, but instead, there was an underlying sulfurous smell that I couldn’t quite pinpoint. I had no idea where it was coming from.

From the front, my mother and father stopped in their tracks.

“Look!” my mother exclaimed pointing. I followed her finger.

Nestled in a valley, between voluptuous green hills, a sparkling blue river gently flowed. The water was clear and clean and rushed fluidly over river rocks. At this point, we had been hiking for awhile and to be honest, I was parched. The bubble of the water was tantalizing and I found myself pulled to it as we rushed the remainder of the distance and stood at the edge.

“I’m afraid,” my mother murmured as she stared into the clear depths.

“Me, too,” I agreed.

My father plunged into the water without hesitation in typical Ares style. He splashed a large hand toward us, splattering us with large drops. It was frigid.

“Come on in,” he cajoled. “The water’s fine.”

“How can you not be nervous?” Aphrodite demanded. “It could take your memories.”

“It could,” he acknowledged with a shrug. “But it won’t.”

As we all watched in trepidation, he dipped his hand in the water and drew it up to his mouth, taking a long drink. The clear liquid streamed from his chin as he drank even more. After a moment, he stopped abruptly, dropping his hand back down to his side as his gaze became glassy and vacant.

Staring at my mother intently, his whispered, “Who are you?”

She gasped. “Ares?”

“Ares?” he repeated. “Is that my name?”

My heart almost stopped beating as I stared at my mother. She returned my horrified gaze and we seemed frozen in time as we contemplated what to do.

And then my father threw his head back and started laughing.

He was kidding and I wanted to kill him.

“That is not funny!” I screeched at him as Aphrodite plunged into the river to pummel his chest with her delicate fists.

“Not funny at all!” Aphrodite agreed. “Are you truly unaffected?”

“Truly,” he nodded. “I’m perfectly fine. Better, in fact. I feel… almost joyful.”

I raised my eyebrows doubtfully. “Joyful? My father, the god of war, feels joyful?”

“Yep!” he replied, flipping onto his back and floating in the river. “Joyful. I don’t know how else to describe it. I remember who I am perfectly, but I feel as though I don’t have a care in the world.”

“But you do,” Ortrera reminded him. “We have much to care about. We don’t have time to be joyful.”

“You women!” he tossed over his shoulder as he swam down the stream. “Always nay-saying. You might as well try it for yourselves. You will have to anyway.”

We looked at each other in hesitation. Cadmus spoke up. “I’ll go first, wife.”

“It doesn’t really matter,” I answered. “Thank you, but we’re all going to have to do it. We might as well do it together.”

We nervously entered the water and drew our hands to our mouths to drink.

The water was icy cold and delicious. As it trickled down my throat, I felt a strange sense of calm come over me, just as my father had mentioned. I remembered exactly who I was and who everyone else was, but I felt oddly carefree.

But even still, I remembered our mission here. I knew I had to save my daughter. Yet somehow, my sense of urgency was diminished. Even though my head knew that was not true, it was what my body felt. I would have to somehow overcome it.

“We cannot trust our own feelings now,” I pointed out as I turned to Cadmus. He was already nodding. “I feel as though our purpose is no longer important, even though I know that to be untrue. Do you feel the same?”

He nodded again. “I feel incredible peace. But my memories are intact.”

“Me too,” Aphrodite interjected as she knelt to drink more.

I turned to ask the Amazons, but froze.

Ortrera was crouched in a combat position, her fierce face wary as she circled us. Her warriors were at attention behind her, although they looked confused by her behavior.

“Ortrera?” I asked hesitantly. I took a step toward her but she snarled so I quickly stepped back. Cadmus subtly moved to my side.

“Ortrera, do you know who I am?” I tried to keep my voice soothing and calm, but since it looked like she was about to attack me at any moment, it proved difficult. “I’m your sister. Your half-sister, actually. Do you remember?”

“Do I seem like I remember?” she snapped as she shifted her weight back and forth to each foot cautiously. “I do not remember you.”

“Do you remember you?” I asked carefully. “Do you know who you are?”

She looked around warily and then her shoulders slumped. “No.”

Her usually staid warriors suddenly looked uneasy, but they didn’t falter in their defensive formation. It was admirable, really. They were prepared to defend her- to fight for her- even though she didn’t remember who any of them were.

Ares had stopped swimming and was wading back toward us, a serious gleam in his dark eyes.

“Ortrera,” he began. “You are my daughter. Surely you remember that.”

She snorted. “Why would I remember that? I don’t even remember who I am.”

“You’re our queen,” one of her warriors said haltingly. “Do you remember that?”

Ortrera studied the woman who had spoken and then the rest of the strong warriors, her gaze passing over each one of them before she finally sighed.

“No,” she admitted. She backed up a few steps, still on her guard. “And why should I trust any of you?”