Warrior Rising (Goddess Summoning #6)(83)

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kat said.

“Where’s Achilles?”

That took her aback. “He should be around here with you, or at least with his men. I got up before he did this morning, but I thought he’d be with the Myrmidons.”

Odysseus stared at her for a long minute, before finally saying, “It’s true. You had nothing to do with it. You don’t know what Patroklos did.”

“Odysseus! Enough of this—what happened!”

The famous warrior faced her, locking her in his intelligent gaze. “This morning Patroklos donned the armor of Achilles. He had to have had a goddess’s touch, because the boy was Achilles. We followed him onto the battlefield—we all followed him.”

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

"No!” Kat gasped. What the hell was he thinking? He wasn’t supposed to fight without Achilles.

“He got tired of waiting.”

“And so he put on Achilles’ armor and pretended to be him?”

“It was more than that. Patroklos was Achilles. He looked like him—moved like him—fought like him. He sounded like him. Even after he was cut down, I believed he was Achilles.”

Kat’s body felt numb and tingly at the same time. “And Patroklos managed it all on his own? They’re cousins, but they don’t look that much alike. We’ve been goddess-dupped.”

“Athena lied to me.”

The depth of betrayal in his voice shocked Kat. “My guess is that there was more than one goddess in on this scheme.” And then another, more terrible thought slammed into her. “Odysseus, who cut down Patroklos?”

She knew the answer before he spoke it.

“It was your brother, Hector.”

Kat’s knees went to water and she sat straight down on the dune. “Oh, god.”

“Hector is still alive, Princess,” Odysseus said kindly.

“How could this have happened…” she said, putting her face in her hands.

“Ajax. It was as if he was possessed. He bellowed a challenge to Hector saying that Achilles had finally come for him, and then he cleared a path between the two warriors. Hector killed him just before he and Patroklos began to battle.”

“This doesn’t make any sense. Achilles wasn’t going to fight Hector—he wasn’t going to fight anyone.”

“He’s going to fight Hector now,” Odysseus said grimly.

“What?”

“If Patroklos dies, Achilles will exact vengeance for his death.”

Kat stared at Odysseus, almost uncomprehending, and then a terrible shiver skittered through her body. “Patroklos can’t die. Find the reed and get it back to Jacky.”

“Jacky?”

Kat shook her head, as if trying to clear it. “Melia—I meant Melia. Get the reed to her.” She stood up, forcing her legs to work. “I’m going to find Achilles.”

Odysseus touched her arm. “Be careful, Princess. Achilles is not the berserker, and the berserker is not human. He will kill you—never doubt that fact.”

Kat nodded tightly and started to turn away, but his words stopped her.

“I know you and Melia are not what you seem, but unless you are immortal do not think you can defeat the berserker.”

She met his gaze for another moment before sprinting off. Her mind was totally focused on one thing—Achilles. She knew where he was. The weird way he’d slept through Jacky’s wake-up call made sense now.

Kat burst through the tent flap. The inside was cool and dimly lit—and Achilles hadn’t moved since she’d left with Jacky. She hesitated, looking down at his sleeping face. He was so peaceful, utterly relaxed and sprawled across the bed. His golden hair had fallen over part of his face, obscuring his scars and making him look so young that for a second she couldn’t breathe. She knew everything would change after she woke him, and she didn’t want to shatter things—she didn’t want to shatter him. Kat smoothed the hair away from his face and he didn’t stir. She kissed his cheek and his lips tilted briefly up. Then she shook his shoulder.

“Achilles, you have to wake up.”

She had to shake him hard before he rolled over groggily and blinked up at her.

He smiled. “Katrina, I was dreaming of you.”

The sweet look on his face made her stomach hurt. She braced herself and kept her voice calm and steady. “You have to come with me. There’s been an accident and Patroklos has been hurt.”

She watched him shake off the last of whatever had kept him asleep all morning.

“How bad is it?” he asked as he pulled on his clothes and started for the door.

“Achilles.” She caught his arm and he paused to look down at her. “It’s bad. You need to ready yourself. Patroklos is going to need you, and not the berserker. There is no battle here to fight,” she said slowly and distinctly.

“Yes, yes, I understand,” he said a little impatiently. “Where is he?”

“In his tent. Remember,” she added in a low voice as she hurried outside with him, “Jacky is a nurse—a very talented healer. So it’s going to look bad, but…”

Her voice faltered and she was unable to speak the lie. She couldn’t tell Achilles that Jacky could save Patroklos. Then she realized that she needn’t have been worried about what she said or didn’t say to him. Achilles hadn’t heard her. He was striding to Patroklos’s tent and she had to jog to keep up with him. When he saw the blood-spattered Myrmidons standing in full armor around the tent, silent and grim faced, Kat felt the shock that went through his body as if it were her own. He paused before he ducked inside the tent, bowing his head and taking several long, deep breaths. She touched his arm and his gaze met hers.