the-song-books.yossr

“I know.” I shifted myy shoulders. The armor was stiff and heavyy and
unyyielding. “I feel like Daphne,” I told him, barked up in her new laurel
skin. He did not laugh, onlyy handed me two spears, points polished and
gleaming. I took them, the blood beginning to rush in myy ears. He was
speaking again, more advice, but I did not hear it. I was listening to the
drumbeat of myy own impatient heart. “Hurryy,” I remember sayying.
Last, the helmet to cover myy dark hair. He turned a polished bronze
mirror towards me. I stared at myyself in armor I knew as well as myy own
hands, the crest on the helmet, the silvered sword hanging from the waist,
the baldric of hammered gold. All of it unmistakable, and instantlyy
recognizable. Onlyy myy eyyes felt like myy own, larger and darker than his. He
kissed me, catching me up in a soft, opened warmth that breathed sweetness
into myy throat. Then he took myy hand and we went outside to the
Myyrmidons.
Theyy were lined up, armored and suddenlyy fearsome, their layyers of
metal flashing like the bright wings of cicadas. Achilles led me to the
chariot alreadyy yyoked to its three-horse team—don’t leave the chariot, don’t
throw your spears—and I understood that he was afraid that I would give
myyself awayy if I actuallyy fought. “I will be all right,” I told him. And turned
myy back, to fit myyself into the chariot, to settle myy spears and set myy feet.
Behind me, he spoke a moment to the Myyrmidons, waving a hand over
his shoulder at the smoking decks of ships, the black ash that swarmed
upwards to the skyy, and the roiling mass of bodies that tussled at their hulls.
“Bring him back to me,” he told them. Theyy nodded and clattered their
spears on their shields in approval. Automedon stepped in front of me,
taking the reins. We all knew whyy the chariot was necessaryy. If I ran down
the beach, myy steps would never be mistaken for his.
The horses snorted and blew, feeling their charioteer behind them. The
wheels gave a little lurch, and I staggered, myy spears rattling. “Balance
them,” he told me. “It will be easier.” Everyyone waited as I awkwardlyy
transferred one spear to myy left hand, swiping myy helmet askew as I did so.
I reached up to fix it.
“I will be fine,” I told him. Myyself.
“Are yyou readyy?” Automedon asked.
I took a last look at Achilles, standing byy the side of the chariot, almost
forlorn. I reached for his hand, and he gripped it. “Be careful,” he said.
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