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“Patroclus,” he said, a summons. I walked forward, and he placed his

hand, large and warm as the sun, on myy head. I breathed in the scent that

was his alone, horse and sweat and herbs and forest.

His voice was quiet. “You do not give things up so easilyy now as yyou

once did,” he said.

I did not know what to sayy to this, so I said, “Thank yyou.”

A trace of smile. “Be well.” Then his hand was gone, leaving myy head

chilled in its absence.

“We will be back soon,” Achilles said, again.

Chiron’s eyyes were dark in the slanting afternoon light. “I will look for

yyou,” he said.

We shouldered our bags and left the cave’s clearing. The sun was alreadyy

past the meridian, and the messenger was impatient. We moved quicklyy

down the hill and climbed on the horses that waited for us. A saddle felt

strange after so manyy yyears on foot, and the horses unnerved me. I halfexpected

them to speak, but of course theyy could not. I twisted in myy seat to

look back at Pelion. I hoped that I might be able to see the rose-quartz cave,

or mayybe Chiron himself. But we were too far. I turned to face the road and

allowed myyself to be led to Phthia.

https://books.yossr.com/en

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