Storm of Ash. Michelle Kenney

Pantheonares, and set his prized mythological weapon free.

      And I’d made too many mistakes to expect any reprieve, but Max deserved so much more. Art needed to know what danger I’d carried through Arafel’s door. And Taskforce, special delegation, army … whatever he decided, I was going to be right at the front. Come what may.

      ‘I’m ready.’

      And somewhere deep in the jungle a lone oropendola bird hissed, stilling the forest briefly.

       Chapter 2

      ‘Friends, we gather here today for two important reasons.’ Art’s grave voice echoed through the Ring’s flickering torchlight.

      ‘Firstly, to give thanks that the stars and earth have conspired between them, to bring home a much-loved daughter of Arafel. On behalf of everyone gathered here, I would like to offer our sincerest gratitude to Talia’s companions who, we can all be assured, have played a critical role in her return.

      ‘Commander General Augustus Aquila and Unus of Isca Prolet, you are most welcome.’

      I watched as August and Unus, seated to the right of the Ring platform, nodded in acknowledgement. August’s inclination was brief and tight; while Unus’s great pudgy head fell forward in confused embarrassment, his one misted eye focused on the rock floor.

      My nerves settled briefly. I owed Unus so much. From the moment we met in the strix-ridden passages beneath Pantheon, he’d proven himself a loyal and true friend. He’d saved my life countless times, but more than that, he’d proven real friendship could come from the unlikeliest of places. In truth, Unus gave me hope. He’d also eased into village life easily, proving invaluable in treehouse construction work. And despite a mistrustful start, fuelled by generations of fireside tales, villagers were now starting to treat him with real respect and kindness.

      Much more so than Commander General August Aquila, who remained aloof and harder to know. I dragged my gaze back to his proud Roman face, still over-bright from the raw biting wind of the North Mountains, and so at odds here among my people. He’d insisted on sleeping on a mattress outside my bedroom door for the past week, and barely left my bedside during the long silent days. Yet conversation between us had long since guttered and died, overladen with shadows neither of us could ignore. We were lost. Not only because his presence forced me to face the absences, but also because it meant accepting who we’d become, that the constellation that had aligned over our snowstorm cave had faded.

       Our snowstorm cave.

      I couldn’t think about what we’d done, of how we’d nearly given in, despite everything. Despite everyone. Every time I closed my eyes I was haunted by a memory of us lying together, the flickering flames shadowing our skin as if inking our shame there. How could we have forgotten the others, even for a moment?

      August’s eyes narrowed, reading me, as I dropped my eyes to my feet. The memories were corrosive. He could feel it too – I could tell whenever we made the mistake of catching each other’s gaze.

      And the irony nearly consumed me – I’d spent a year feeling like a ghost girl with Max, and now I’d give anything to go back there. Not because I was happier, but because those feelings were so much easier than this caustic pit of guilt. The knowledge that Max, Eli and Aelia were lying pale and lifeless within the glassy Dead City river. Because of me. While I was still here, beside two Insiders instead of my childhood companions, and expected to explain their absence in a way that made it bearable. What could be more impossible than that?

      ‘Secondly, in accordance with Arafel tradition, when one of our community has been reported missing or compromised, we gather to hear the facts and decide on our collective response.

      ‘Action or inaction, Thomas’s principles stand as firmly today as they did two hundred years ago. An Arafel hunter believes in natural order, respect for his place in the forest, and taking only what he needs to survive. But if the circle is broken, particularly by forces outside of these four walls, it is up to the rest of us to decide whether to meet that betrayal with earth – or fire.’

      I looked up at Art, Thomas’s wisdom echoing around the rock walls. He looked older and more wizened than ever before, and though our return had been celebrated with a whole roasted lamb and two kegs of elderberry wine, I could also see how it changed everything. I’d changed everything.

      Cassius had broken the circle, but I had too. I’d brought Insiders here, to our most precious secret valley home. I’d violated the most sacred of rules, and I didn’t need to look around the room. I already knew fear and suspicion would be etched into every single face, all at my hand. I wished Mum was beside me, that I could bury my face in her familiar scent and comfort. But she was seated at the back, shelling peas as though it were just an ordinary harvest meeting, safe inside her own quiet oblivion.

      So I locked my agitation inside my knotted fingers, because there was still Max, and that meant there was nothing I could do except tell them the stone-cold facts, and hope the people I’d always called my family didn’t end up hating me.

      ‘Talia … Commander General Augustus Aquila … Unus of Isca Prolet, I ask you to relate your journey and experiences with us now, omitting no … difficult details, so that we might arrive at the best course of action for Arafel.

      ‘The Ring platform is yours.’

      My chest tightened, and I climbed the wide stone steps, feeling as though my legs had grown as dense and heavy as the rock surrounding us. I’d never felt more alone in the world, and yet there was nowhere to hide either. I’d been dreading this moment, finally facing Art, Max’s family … and Mum. Although she’d stopped asking after Eli, I was all too aware that didn’t mean the truth had reached through the mist separating her from the rest of Arafel. If anything, I was probably about to push her further away.

      I turned slowly and surveyed the waiting crowd, recalling the last time I’d stood here – appealing for help to rescue the Prolet insurgents. I’d chosen my own path anyway, and could already see the doubt in their eyes.

       Why were they even listening to me? I’d acted rashly, spent innocent lives, and exposed Arafel to danger.

      The air was sombre and suspicious, I closed my eyes and Pan’s pale face loomed out of nowhere. It was the moment before he stepped into the writhing mass of basilisk, a moment filled with both fear and courage. Human attributes blazing in a creature of Pantheon.

      He’d sacrificed his life so Max and I stood a chance of finding and protecting Lake. From Cassius, from the world and from herself. And now Max was gone, which meant the responsibility was mine alone.

       It was time.

      It was nearly an hour later when we finally finished relating our story. Mum had shelled peas consistently throughout, and the cavern was eerily quiet.

      ‘We tried everything.’ My voice sounded brittle in the echoing space. ‘We took them to the Oceanids, hoping they would do what they did for myself and the Commander General … hoping they would bring them back … somehow?’

      My voice was growing thinner, an invisible fist closing around my throat.

       Could they tell I was just about the worst human being alive? That I was the type of girl likely to give in to her darkest desire, even when her best friend was missing and her brother not quite cold in his watery grave?

      ‘They didn’t,’ August finished for me, ‘or more likely, they couldn’t – not in the time we needed them to.’

      His words met with ominous silence, before the uproar began. I was conscious of time slowing, of the mood turning as faces I loved twisted beyond recognition. Until now there had been whispers and conjecture, still laced with hope, but now their worst suspicions had been confirmed there was only pain. And honest-to-God fury.

      ‘These … Oceanids of which