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Back The Arrow of Apollo
Chapters (52)
  1. Cover
  2. Title
  3. About the Author
  4. Dedication
  5. By the Same Author
  6. Author’s Note
  7. Map
  8. Domus Libris
  9. House of the Wolf
  10. The House of the Wolf
  11. One
  12. Two
  13. Three
  14. Four
  15. Five
  16. Six
  17. Seven
  18. Eight
  19. Nine
  20. Ten
  21. Eleven
  22. Twelve
  23. Thirteen
  24. Fourteen
  25. Fifteen
  26. Sixteen
  27. Seventeen
  28. Eighteen
  29. Nineteen
  30. Twenty
  31. Twenty-One
  32. Twenty-Two
  33. Twenty-Three
  34. Twenty-Four
  35. Twenty-Five
  36. Twenty-Six
  37. Twenty-Seven
  38. Twenty-Eight
  39. Twenty-Nine
  40. Thirty
  41. Thirty-One
  42. Thirty-Two
  43. Thirty-Three
  44. Thirty-Four
  45. Thirty-Five
  46. Thirty-Six
  47. Thirty-Seven
  48. Thirty-Eight
  49. Timeline of the Trojan Cycle
  50. Further Reading
  51. Acknowledgements
  52. Supporters

Hero continued, walking forwards with a little shimmering movement. ‘Things come to me, as they did to my mother. From the shadows, from the light.’ She shook her long, dark hair, and it fell in shining waves over her brown shoulders. ‘I can’t always make sense of them. Fragments, dreams. But sometimes I hear things about you.’

‘What do you mean?’ Tisamenos stepped back from her, warily.

‘Long white teeth. Three beasts.’ Hero yawned then, and gulped down an olive. ‘And something else. Something I do not understand. Something made from stone that yet lives.’

She closed her hands together. When she opened them, nestled in the hollow of her palms was a swallow, a little dark thing, all feather and energy.

‘What is this?’ Tisamenos craned forwards. ‘Street magic?’

The swallow tilted its head to the side, hopped around, then took wing and swooped away. Hero shivered her hips like a dancer, and, laughing, skipped off to the women’s quarters. ‘They’ll say don’t listen to me,’ she called over her shoulder. Her voice echoed. ‘Listen to me …’

The swallow was flying round the hall in circles.

Tisamenos watched its graceful arcs for a long time, until the noise of the guests from the dining hall rose into a confused tumult.

It was time for him to return to his chamber, to his nurse, his soft linen and a warm drink. To his astonishment, the swallow swooped down and perched lightly on his shoulder. The feeling of the little claws was ticklish. A voice appeared in his ear, clear and strange.

Tisamenos couldn’t believe it. The voice was coming from the swallow itself. He looked around, but there was only a white-robed courtier kissing one of the maids.

‘Did you say something?’ Tisamenos felt foolish.

‘Listen to me,’ said the swallow. ‘Find the swallows tomorrow. You will learn something about your mother.’

‘What will I learn?’

‘Who killed her,’ answered the swallow; and then it was gone, and though Tisamenos ran after it, he could not find it anywhere.

Three

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The Vision of Apollo

LAVINIUM, ITALIA: HOUSE OF THE WOLF

‘See, I told you I could do it!’ A chunk of wood fell with a satisfying thud, and Elissa looked proudly at the thick length of oak timber she’d sawn through. It had taken her a good part of an hour, and now twilight was approaching, but she was pleased with it. ‘And it’s only a tiny bit jagged!’ It would become a part of the city. She called it home, after all. Now there would be something she’d made inside it, and maybe that would make her feel that it really was home. Her black, silky hair had come loose from its hairband, and she pushed it back underneath.