14

According to Cassandra, funerals are held a full day after the person dies and start as soon as it’s dark. Paris will be carried to the cemetery in a horse-drawn wagon, followed by mourners—men first, then women and children. The cemetery is outside Troy, about a quarter mile farther than the sacred grove. There, his body will be lifted onto a pyre, and a fire will be lit. His ashes will be placed in an urn and buried. Then the mourners will go back to Troy, men first again. The sky will still be dark.

Our chance will come on the return. Cassandra will whisper to Helen that she wants to talk to her privately. Curiosity will probably succeed with Helen, and she’ll go. If not, Eurus will be nearby to force her with his wind. The other women won’t care that she leaves.

I ask Cassandra about evil Helenus.

Her cheeks swell in a long exhale. “I’m sure he’ll be at Deiphobus’s side, since he has to walk with the men. He’ll probably be plotting to ruin our brother’s chances at Helen. If he happens to look at her immediate future, he’ll see what we’re doing. If he concentrates only on Deiphobus, we’ll be safe from him. He’s our greatest threat.”

Eurus says he can blow Helenus far away, but Cassandra holds up a hand. “Don’t! He’ll cry out and make an uproar. We’ll be discovered.”

Zelke says, “We can kill him to stop his noise.”

I hear Cassandra’s intake of breath. Everyone waits for me to speak.

I toss back my head. “Troy is still our ally. We can’t kill one of its princes.”

The night of the funeral is lit by a three-quarter moon. We wait far enough from the cemetery so that the Trojans won’t hear our voices when we speak to Helen. Cassandra is with the mourners. Eurus hovers in the air above us, hidden by a low cloud in an otherwise cloudless sky. Cassandra has asked him to interfere only if she or the band is in danger.

While we stand silently, I worry what Pen’s opinion would be. I imagine her in Cybele’s camp between battles, watching me and disapproving. If she were alive, we’d be far from Troy by now. No matter how sad she’d feel for my friend, she wouldn’t endanger us to save strangers from a bunch of selfish, felt-headed gods.

Wrong! I hear Pen’s voice in my imagination or coming from Cybele’s homeland. Cassandra saved your life. We’d help her, Rinny-Rin.

Several minutes pass before I can stop crying. Thank you, Cybele, for my mother.

Then I start weeping again because I wonder if Hector is watching us from the Trojans’ Hades. He’d be happy that we’re helping his sister. Even more, he’d want us to succeed so Nax can live to grow up. I wish I could tell him how glad I am to be Cassandra’s friend. I wish I had told him.

The wind brings us Trojan voices singing to the music of their lyre and flute. Eurus must be blowing the sound to us because the distance is too great even for my sharp ears. The song is slow, and each note lingers. I weep again. The Trojans are good for something.

The singing and the instruments end too soon.

We wait. Cicadas hum. The air is dry.

I’m the first to hear footsteps. I paste on a smile and hope the moon isn’t bright enough to show how false it is.

Cassandra and Helen are holding hands. Both are panting. They have no endurance. Cassandra’s face is tight, but Helen’s is serene, open. She’s beautiful even in a torn peplos and without her jewels.

When they let each other go, I take both Helen’s hands in mine. “Welcome.” Time to pretend. “We’re glad you’ve come.”

“Cassandra said you want to talk to me.”

The band leans in to hear Helen’s whispery voice.

She squeezes my hand. “We’ve both lost people we love.”

I should have said that!

Her grip loosens, and I let her hands go.

“I told Pen how you could almost be a horse and about your jumping on one hand. She said you’re stronger than we are, at least in some ways.” Helen would be likely to recognize the lie if I suggested she was stronger in everything. “Pen said we could learn from you, Satch— Helen.”

Someone cheeps with suppressed laughter.

Helen seems not to notice. “I doubt I could ever be as strong as you are.”

This, I’m sure, is meant as a compliment, but I don’t like it, and I doubt the others do, either. We’re not fond of real or fake helplessness.

I keep going. “We’re a small band, even though this isn’t all of us.” I widen my smile. “When someone dies, we find a new member, a woman who can make us even better.”

“Me?” This comes out as a breathy squeal. “Become an Amazon?”

“Yes.”

Lannip echoes, “Yes.”

“You prefer me to her?” She touches Cassandra’s shoulder.

Through lips that barely move, Cassandra says, “I won’t leave my parents.”

Helen doesn’t let it go, though. “If she’d join you, would you take her over me?”

If she comes with us, we’ll deliver her to a village as quickly as we can. Her need to be most loved would spread poison through the band.

“Both of you would be best of all.”

Helen goes to each in the band and asks, “Would you be glad to have me?”

Cassandra and I exchange desperate glances. Every second increases the likelihood that Helenus will notice Helen’s absence.

They all tell her yes. It’s partly true. We’ll be glad to save Cassandra, and if that means taking Helen, we’re willing.

Finally, she returns to me. “I’ve longed for the companionship of women.” Her expression is solemn. “I’ll go with you and teach you what I know. Thank you for wanting me!”

“Wonderful!” My smile becomes real. I wonder if Cassandra sees her city saved, but her face is neutral. I reach out for Helen’s hand again. “The horses are at our camp. We’ll leave as soon as we get there.”

She slips her hand out of mine. “Without my jewels? Don’t you want my jewels? People would have frowned if I wore them to Paris’s funeral.”

We love jewels, but not now.

Lannip chimes in. “We take spoils on our raids. You’ll have jewels to choose from. In the band, we share.”

She smiles widely. “I love you all! But I can’t leave them. Paris and my other husband, Menelaus, gave them to me.”

Everyone tries, but she can’t be persuaded, not even when I tell her she can’t join the band if she doesn’t come now. Our conversation has convinced me that we mustn’t take her by force, or we’ll be ruined. I wonder if the jewels are just an excuse. She may really be afraid to stop being a village woman.

Helen goes back to the mourners. Cassandra comes with us to camp. I’m sure she thinks that she’s again failed to save Troy, but we should have rehearsed more, been more persuasive, made Helen want to come with us. I’m the one who failed.