Our bodies were close to each other by this point. We both refused to lose the argument. Kris came between us, putting her hands on our shoulders in an attempt to calm us down. “Don’t fight, guys. Ave, I know you’re tough. But Vlad is right—it is dangerous. You don’t know who they are or what they want. I just—” My best friend’s voice broke. “I just don’t want to risk losing you.”

I knew that if I were in her shoes and she were in mine, I would want at least a half dozen Court Guards to accompany her everywhere, twenty-four seven, so I understood her concern. For that reason alone, I was willing to swallow my pride—a little, not too much, though. “Fine. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll take the babysitter.” I pointed my finger at Vlad. “Looks like you’ll be my nanny now, General.”

My best friend smiled gratefully and hugged me. I was just hoping this wouldn’t interfere with my mission.

Vlad interrupted our hug. “Do you remember what the tattoo looked like?”

“Why?” Hope started building inside me that this could be a legitimate lead that Vlad had picked up on. “Do you think it could mean something?”

“Yeah. Could you describe it to me?” Vlad pressed.

“It was jet black. The whole thing was round, like some sort of emblem.” I closed my eyes as I tried to recall the details of the image. “It was like one of those fringed helmets worn by the armies in any movie about the Spartans. And the guy had it on his inner wrist.”

“I think I know what you’re referring to.” Vlad fished out his phone and tapped his screen rapidly before showing it to me and Kris. “Just to be sure, did it look more or less like this?”

“Yeah. Except there was gold lining here. Not just yellow, gold.”

Vlad and Kris shared a look before he turned to me. “The Myrmidons.”

“Wait! That creepy woman mentioned the Myrmidons. I swear I’ve read about them somewhere. Was it in Homer’s Illiad? I think they’re Achilles’s soldiers, right?”

Vlad was more than happy to elaborate. “The name comes from the Greek murmedon, derived from the Greek word for ant, myrmex, meaning ‘ant bed’ or ‘ant’s nest,’” Vlad slid his phone back into his pocket. “A long time ago, a princess of Phthiotis called Eurymedousa was seduced by Zeus. He transformed both of them into ants so they could carry on their affair without his wife, Hera, being able to catch them.”

“I’ve never heard that version,” I murmured to myself.