"I am here," Aria says. "I give myself to you. Guide me and I will do whatever you ask." The light swells, blindingly bright. At the same time the air seems to compress around her. Dense and warm, it seems to hold her. It feels like an embrace.

Aria is bent over now, her forehead resting on the forest floor, her arms reaching out to the circle of light. She has committed herself, made her offer. The answer is not long in coming.

She is standing in a beautiful room. There are tapestries hanging on the walls; the furniture is finely carved, the wood dark. There are tables, scrolls, carpets, silver lamps on silver stands. The floor is a cunning pattern made from countless tiny stones-black and creamy white, russet, green. The shutters are open, but there is no breeze. It's hot in the room, hot and damp.

She is standing in front of a man, her hands behind her back. He is sitting at a desk, looking up at her: a burly man, broad of shoulder and brown of face, and richly dressed, like someone important.

Aria is afraid of him.

"You may sit," the man says, so she does. And in the process, she notices the fine tunic she's wearing, the strong, slender legs, the beautiful long-fingered hands. None of them belong to her. It's as though she has become another person altogether-a different person in a place she's never been; and somehow she knows that the man with the hard eyes is her father.

"I have good reports from all your masters," he says. "That's as it should be, of course. Much is expected of you. You cannot afford to fall behind."

She has heard this before many times and it's always the same: good work, now do better. Her spirit shrivels a little. The way he looks at her makes her cringe.

"I won't, Father," she says. . . .

34.

THEY ARE SITTING ON the camp bed when Suliman comes in. They have leaned in close as they talk, their heads almost touching; Alexos is holding Teo's hand. At the sight of them, the physician seems to melt: soft folds form around his eyes, which somehow grow darker and brighter at the same time.

"Please excuse the interruption, my lord," he says.

Alexos sits up a little straighter. "Is there something the matter?"

"Not at all. I have only come to say that Teo's sister is waiting outside."

There follows a weighty pause. Then, tentatively, "What does she want?"

"To speak with you, Alexos. Alone."

They exchange a long and meaningful look. All of this makes Teo nervous. His eyes dart from one to the other, trying to make sense of it.

"All right," Alexos says, but he doesn't move.

"Shall I help you dress?" Suliman seems to be stifling a grin.

Alexos looks down at his bare chest, his underclothes, his uncovered legs. "Oh. Yes. That would be good."

"Is she angry?" Teo asks.

"No, my prince." Suliman fetches the king's tunic, now ruined with damp and dirt, and helps him pull it over his head. "I believe it would be more accurate to say that your sister is terrified."

"Ah," Alexos says. "Well, that makes two of us, then."

"Would you prefer to stay seated as you are? You will have the advantage of height if you are standing." Suliman is actually chuckling now. Alexos points to the cane and Suliman brings it. Then he rises and positions himself in the middle of the tent. He can feel all the color draining out of his face.

"I hope she's nice to you," Teo says, looking up at him.

"I hope so too, little man. Give me your hand for luck." Teo does. "Will you come again soon? Please say yes."

"Of course I will."

She slips in quietly and stands by the entrance. It seems to Alexos that she has brought her own light-it's that astonishing white-gold hair; the perfect, radiant skin: pink, like the blush on a peach. A shiver runs through him and all he can do is watch her: the subtle hint of emotion playing over her face; the way she looks down at her feet, dirty and covered with scratches, then up again; the strand of hair that falls across her eyes; how she brushes it away.

Is she waiting for him to say something? Is he supposed to begin? Yes, probably. But what can he say?

"Thank you for coming here," he tries. "Though of course I understand it is not something you would . . . that is to say, that you might . . . I mean . . ."

He gives it up.

She is studying her fingernails, as nervous and tongue-tied as he is. And she's so small! He hadn't noticed that before. Now he positively looms over her, not at all what he'd intended. He wishes he hadn't chosen to stand, but now it's too late.

He really needs to say something. This silence is dreadful. Frantically, he works it out in his mind, numbering and arranging the things that need to be said. Finally they fall into place. He has it now. He can do this.

"May I tell you something?" he begins.

She looks up with interest.

"When we spoke those two times, while I was still a prisoner and you came to me in disguise, I told you I had dreamed about this island, but I thought it was the death-world. Do you remember?"

She nods, so serious.

"I have had those dreams many times. I was twelve years old when they began. You were even younger; Teo was only four. I watched you grow up. And in a strange sort of way, I shared your childhood-your lessons, your games, your adventures. I saw you tame a fox."

Still she doesn't speak.

"But those weren't common dreams; that's what I'm trying to say. Athene sent them to me, first in the temple on the day she called me out of childhood and into her service, then again as I lay dying from despair over the terrible thing I had done. It was only because I saw Teo here, in what I believed to be a blessed afterlife, with a loving death-father and death-sister to comfort and care for him-" His voice breaks. He swallows, clears his throat. "That's the only reason I was able to go on living, to finish the task the G.o.ddess had set for me. Those dreams were my one great consolation."

His neck is flushed; beads of sweat have formed on his brow and cheeks. Trying not to be too obvious, he wipes the sweat away.

"The point is, I feel that I know you, that I've known you all my life. And there has to be a reason for that. The G.o.ddess could have shown me happy visions of Teo if all she'd wanted was to keep me together so I could finish my task. But you were in every dream; I saw you even before Teo came to the island. So I think there is a reason you and I are here, exactly as we are now. Whatever we say to each other, there is purpose in it. I'm sorry if that disturbs you."

"Maybe we should sit," she says, pointing to the cot, then taking a stool and settling herself upon it. There's something so natural about the way she moves, graceful yet boyish. She doesn't watch herself being watched, as the court ladies of Arcos do.

"All right," he says. "But you will have to excuse me if this is a little indelicate." He stands by the camp bed, raises the hem of his tunic, and releases the catch so the brace can bend at the knee. Then, supporting himself with the cane, he sits down with all the grace he can manage.

"I believe what you just told me," Aria says, "because I have seen you as well."

"You have?"

"Just today; not before. But the G.o.ddess made up for the delay, I a.s.sure you." Her brows shoot up, green eyes wide. "She gave it to me all at once."

"And that's why you are here?"

"Yes. I wasn't willing to come before. In fact-well, it doesn't matter."

"How can I make it easier for you?"

She isn't expecting that. "I don't know."

"Then let me try?"

She nods.

"I know how you feel. I really do. You love Teo very much. And ever since he came here, you've wondered about his past-how he came to be alone at sea in that little boat. You couldn't imagine that anyone would intentionally harm a child. The thought would be repellent to anyone, but more so for you, since you've had no personal experience with evil. Until Pyratos came, no one was ever cruel to you. Teo is an angel, your father is wise and kind, everything a father ought to be-"

"Not like yours."

That stops him. "You're right. My father was not at all like Claudio. But my point is that for you to confront evil for the first time-and not just evil of a general sort, but a very particular, personal crime, committed against someone you love . . ." He throws wide his arms as if to express the enormity of the disconnect. "I can only imagine the horror you must have felt when you discovered that I was that person. And yet, when Athene told you to come here, as I a.s.sume she did, you obeyed. I believe that's more than enough to complete her circle of absolution and satisfy the G.o.ds."

This feels incomplete to Alexos. The conclusion is only implied. But what is he supposed to say, you're done now; you can go?

Aria rocks on her stool, staring off into the middle distance, her chin in her hands. "No," she says. "Listen."

Of course he will listen!

"When the G.o.ddess showed me your life today, I wasn't watching you as I am now, from the outside. I was in your skin. I was you. I saw what you saw and felt what you felt."

"How terribly unpleasant."

"It was, yes-and to such a degree that after a while it seemed intentional. Oh, I'm afraid I'll get this wrong."

"Please try."

"All right. The G.o.ddess chose me, and she chose Teo, too-did you know that?"

"Yes. He told me."

"But you were different. She chose you especially."

He waits.

"The whole time I was living your life, except when I was running and when I was with Teo, I was wretched. No matter how hard I tried, it was never good enough. And no one but Teo really loved me-" She looks up then, as if she's had a new thought. "Except for Suliman, and Peles, and Leander."

He flushes and looks down. She notices.

"Can I ask you something? I don't mean to intrude-"

"That's all right. Go ahead."

"I know Suliman loves you still. But what about the others-Peles and Leander? Have they abandoned you now that they know what you did?"

Alexos plays with the folds of his tunic, frowning. "Peles is under the impression that I saved his life, which I suppose I did, and he is firmly convinced that I have a n.o.ble heart. So he refuses to believe I could do anything vile, though he heard me admit it myself. He thinks there must be some missing piece that would explain it all. If anything, he is kinder to me now."

"That is amazing."

"Yes. Peles is an amazing man. Saving him may have been my greatest achievement."

"And Leander?"

"Ah. Well, that's a different case. We have been friends since childhood. He knew Teo, or at least knew of him. He saw him once."

"At the race."

She has seen his life. "Yes, at the race. And after I was sick and Teo disappeared, Leander comforted me. Everyone did. Poor Alexos, on top of all he has suffered, now he has lost his beloved brother. So you can imagine how repulsive Leander finds me now. He can't even look me in the eyes."

"Yes, I understand him. I felt the same."

Alexos blinks. Did she mean to use the past tense?

"I have released him from any obligation to attend me. But it's hard for him because we are here on this small island. He can't go back to his father's house or ride down to the borderlands. So we just avoid each other. That's the best we can do."

"Did you love him-Leander?"

Alexos doesn't have to think. "Oh, yes."

"And he loved you?"

"I believe he did. He was uncommonly attentive and kind. He antic.i.p.ated my needs, eased my way, made me laugh. But it's hard to know with Leander. He's all sunshine and no shadow. I wonder sometimes if a person can truly love if he has no sorrow in him at all."

"Oh, I hope that's not true," she says. "For, like Leander, my life has been easy. Maybe that's why we reacted in the same way. He will feel differently, though, after I have spoken to him. For Peles was right, Alexos. What a clever fellow he is!"

"I'm afraid I don't follow you."

"I'm sorry. Let me go back and tell it all in order; then it will be clear. Do you remember where we were?"

"The suffering was excessive and no one loved me."

"Yes. Well it was excessive, just one thing after another. Dear G.o.ds, that dreadful race, and the illness, and then you were disinherited-incredible!"

"I'm sorry you had to go through it."

"Those weren't just things that happened, you know. They were carefully arranged. Athene wanted-no, that's wrong-she needed you to suffer. Would you like to know why?"

His hand goes to his mouth, then to his chest. "Yes," he finally says, a little too heartily.

"Teo and I were chosen, as you know, and what Athene needed from us was forgiveness. But you were a different sort of champion. Zeus demanded a sacrifice-and you were it, Alexos.

"So the G.o.ddess made your life a misery. She drove you beyond your limits, then robbed you of your few consolations. You were strong and fast, you found peace in running, so she damaged your legs. You had purpose in your life as heir to the throne, so she took that, too. And finally, there was Teo."