Amazon Queen

relay power, that Medusa reminded her what could happen if you acted with passion instead of logic.

I hadn't bothered to reply. All of my tattoos had a purpose. And I didn't consider personal reminders a purpose. Besides, logic was fine, if you had time for it. In battle you frequently didn't. Gut instinct had saved my hide more than once.

The sun shone through the trees onto Thea's short dark curls. Her eyes closed, she murmured something over the bowl, then dipped her fingers into whatever was contained inside it.

Her fingers glistening, she looked down. I realized then the baby was on the ground, wrapped in her blanket and snoozing.

I hesitated, unsure whether to make my presence known or not. It was obvious Thea was in the middle of some ceremony, and despite my annoyance that she had whisked the child off without consulting me first, I didn't feel right about interrupting her.

Something rustled in the woods. The priestess froze, only her eyes moving as she scanned the trees. Knowing she would spot me soon, I stepped forward.

'Zery.' She glanced at the child, then set the bowl onto the ground and wiped her hands on her shorts. She took a step back, her foot hitting something white.

I tilted my head. I couldn't make out what the object was, but the way Thea was standing gave me the distinct impression she had no desire to show it to me. Which of course meant I had to see it.

I strode forward. 'You left before we could talk.'

She flipped both of her hands palm up. 'The child needed to be accepted by the goddess.'

'Accepted?' I'd never heard the term.

'Presented as a gift. Children are the most precious gifts, you know.'

It sounded like the kind of worn sentiment you'd find on a two-for-a-dollar greeting card.

'I've never heard of a child being 'accepted' before.'

She shrugged and glanced at the baby. 'Perhaps your former high priestess preferred doing the ceremony in solitude. Many of us do.'

A barb for interrupting her. With a frown, I took another step into her space, then kneeled, placed my staff on the ground, and scooped up the infant. She opened her eyes, curious and blue, and stared up at me. I had the strange urge to pat her on the chest or run my finger down her face. I grimaced. I'd never held a baby before; as a warrior, I'd never had the need or desire.

Seeing my discomfort, Thea held out her arms. 'I can take her.' I moved to shift the burden of the child's weight to the priestess's arms, but as I did, my eyes locked onto the white object lying behind her: a knife, made of bone.

I pulled back. 'What's that?'

She stiffened, then followed my gaze. 'Oh, the knife.' She bent to retrieve it. 'Have you never seen one of these either?'

A knife made of bone and carved in the shape of a small spear lay across her two hands.

She smiled. 'It's a ceremonial knife. Carved over a thousand years ago. About as dangerous as a wooden spoon, as a weapon anyway, but full of magic. I use it to stir the oil.'

I could see now the tip glistened. She picked up the bowl and held it out. An inch of oil covered its bottom.

So, I had interrupted something. Still, she shouldn't have wandered off with the baby we had just gone through so much effort to reclaim, not without telling me where she was going and why.

'Are you done?' I asked.

She tapped one finger against the rim of the bowl. 'For now. The magic is gone; I'll have to recall it another day.'

A prick to make me feel guilty, but it didn't draw blood. 'Or perhaps after she is returned to her mother, she can be 'accepted' then,' I parried back, but I wasn't done. I had another question for our new priestess. 'What did you use on the son-the dart? It wasn't part of our plan.'

Thea's jaw tightened. 'Do you have a problem with the outcome? We did get the child.' With her thumb she twirled a ring around her finger. It was gold with a black enamel spider clinging to its band.

Despite myself I shuddered. Last fall the Amazons had been attacked by a son. I'd been staked out in a yard, a spider's web of magic stretched over me, keeping my warriors from me, holding me down helpless. I had never feared anything, still didn't, but spiders. . I couldn't help but associate them with that nightmare, lying there vulnerable and exposed. . I pulled my gaze from the ring as I realized Thea was watching me.

'Perhaps,' she replied. 'Here.' She held out the knife. 'You're a queen. Someone should have shared this part of our history with you before.'

I glanced at the weapon, reluctant to take it but still eager to pass off the child. Finally I slipped the baby into Thea's arms and took hold of the knife.

The handle was smooth and warm and seemed to pulse with life inside my grip.

'Do you feel it?' she whispered.

Running my thumb down the blade, I nodded. She was right; it was dull. I felt nothing. .

A shriek, loud and harsh, startled me from my thoughts. I stepped back, my attention dashing around the clearing. Another shriek, this one closer and overhead.

A bird, bigger than any I'd ever seen or dreamed existed, soared toward us. Its wings, probably eleven feet tip to tip, blocked the sun. Its head was featherless and red, its beak hooked.

I froze, my brain not moving fast enough to process what was happening, to form a defense or an attack.

Thea cursed and my instincts snapped into place. I threw the knife, but the blade wasn't crafted for tossing. It fell with a thud to the ground.

I bent to pick up my staff and swung it overhead, like a child batting at a pinata.

The circling bird barely seemed to notice. His focus wasn't on me; it was on Thea and the child she held.

The child. .

'A son,' I yelled. The bird was a shape-shifted son, probably one of the two whom we'd tricked in Beloit. How they had found us this quickly I didn't know, but I had no doubt the monstrous bird wasn't natural. . at least not for northern Illinois.

Something blasted from the dirt beside me. My staff, caught in the explosions, flew from my hand.

I coughed and rubbed dirt from my suddenly streaming eyes. Rocks flew from the ground and shot into the air like missiles. Thea stood in the center of the minefield, her arms held out and her lips moving. She was trying to down the bird with rocks previously buried beneath the soil.

But she had set down the child.

'Thea!' I yelled, trying to warn her to get to the baby, to take her and run. I could fight the son, but if we lost the child. .

The priestess didn't hear me. She seemed lost in her fight. Her hands formed claws and dug down in the air, like she was digging in the dirt; then with a quick twist she flung her hands back up overhead and a new batch of rocks flew into the sky.

Realizing it was up to me to grab the child, I fell forward into a somersault and rolled, landing in a crouch next to the infant. Relief washed over me. I reached for her, ready to grab her and run, but she had been moved, bumped aside by a growling, snarling animal.

The thing stood next to the now screaming child, almost over her. Its body was stocky like a bear but smaller, maybe forty pounds. His teeth, attached to snapping jaws, were sharp and jagged, obviously built to tear flesh from bone. A wolverine.

I knew he was the shorter son as soon as I saw him, but his expression left no doubt. He stared me down with a hatred so intense, it felt personal. Animals don't emit emotions like that, but humans do. . and sons do.

I'd wronged him, and he meant to make me pay.

A mix of a growl and snort escaped his jaws.

The knife was close, had fallen less than a foot from where I kneeled. I leaned out, willing my hand to close