*
The guards found nothing. Such did not surprise her, given the darkness of the night, devoid even of the moon.
"It was probably a wolf, separated from its pack," said Menos, in an attempt to calm Callithoe.
"It was not a wolf," she replied testily. "It was too big. No wolf makes sounds like that."
Menos looked at Metaneira and Celeus with barely veiled exasperation. "Perhaps. We have done all that we can for the night. We will search for it at first light."
"Of course," said the king.
He went to Callithoe, and laid his heavy, ringed hand on the crown of her head, like he used to when she was a child. "Sleep, daughter. The gods have blessed us with your safe return tonight."
The excitement of the evening had ebbed at last, and indeed Callithoe's eyes burned with fatigue. Iambe, weak still from her latest bout with illness, had retired to their chambers a while ago. Callithoe followed her, thinking that her exhaustion would result in a long, deep sleep.
She could not have been more mistaken. She lay awake, tormented by the echoes of the beast's screams, replaying the wild flight toward home, and before that, the desperate scrambles of the poor for food. At last, she discarded her stubborn attempts to sleep and rose. Iambe slept on, making that soft snoring noise that she always denied when Callithoe teased her about it in the light of day.
Pausing outside her door, she heard a murmur, followed by the fretful protest of a child, cut short. Demophon. She padded down the cool stone hallway in her bare feet. How odd that he would be awake so late, when all the palace lay sleeping. Perhaps his nightmares had returned.
Wind blew in a low, fitful moan, causing the shutters to snap against the window frame. Standing shock still and listening, she at length decided that it lacked the strength to become another awful dust storm. The fearful twisting of her gut abated.
Another murmur came. Doso's voice, from the hearth room.
Callithoe saw the yellow glow of the hearth before she entered the room. How strange that Doso had built a fire so high. The heat of the summer days kept them from building the fire during the night.
She stepped into the room.
Doso stood before the hearth, illuminated by the tall bright flames. Her peplos was unbelted and her hair a frizzy tree canopy with strands knotted and pointed outward like branches. She held a large animal or weighted sack from her thin wrist – something that Callithoe could not identify – over the flames. Doso shifted at Callithoe's appearance, as did the angle of her strange burden. Callithoe beheld human eyes, glassy and dazed.
Demophon!
Directly over the flames he dangled from his heel. He hung slack and light, as if he weighed no more than a dried husk of wheat or a handful of feathers.
"Stop!" Callithoe heard herself shriek.
She rushed at the bizarre sight, hands outstretched like claws. Crazed with fear for her brother, she snatched at Doso's peplos with one hand and used it as leverage to grab at Demophon with the other.
A great blow struck her in the midsection. She flew backward like a bird in a sudden updraft. Striking her head against a marble support column, she crumpled to the floor. Her ears rang and pain blazed across the back of her head. She forced her senses back in order.
"Demophon!" she called.
Callithoe got to her knees. The world pitched and heaved around her like the deck of a storm-ravaged ship.
Doso's face twisted with loathing. "I'm saving him, stupid girl! The elemental fire will make him immortal."
Mother Rhea, no!
Callithoe struggled to stand, but her eyes refused to stay focused. Behind her, she heard the cries of her sisters and mother erupting in dismay.
"Guards! Attend us at once!" Celeus shouted. He had appeared from somewhere, sword in hand.
He lunged at Doso, exclaiming, "Back, foul creature!"
Motion, beside her. A harsh laugh from Doso and Celeus's sword flew through the room like a twig carried by a mighty wind. The king collided with the hearth grate and stumbled, his leg bent in an awkward, unnatural angle.
The wooden shutter banged open. Wind howled through the open window and whirled into a tornado. It doused the yellow flames with a great whoosh. Sand and grit pelted them with stinging needles. A great cloud of ash from the hearth billowed outward, momentarily obscuring Doso.
"Mother Rhea," cried Metaneira. "Have mercy on us!"
When the smoke cleared, Doso stood facing them with an expression of cold disdain. "Take him, then! You puling ingrates are not worthy of such an honor."
She swung Demophon like a stone in a sling. He tumbled across the stone floor limply, arms and legs sprawling. Metaneira leapt for him. Gathering him up, she cradled him in her arms with a choked cry. He stirred, whining with confusion.
A terrible animal shriek rent the air. Weak flames had revived enough to illuminate the room. A form blurred past them as big as a man but four-legged and hip-height. Callithoe glimpsed thick paws and tan, lanky shoulders. A mountain lion! The very same creature, she knew with sudden inspiration, that she had encountered hours earlier.
The lion leapt, two front paws hitting Doso in the chest and bringing her down to the tiles. It screamed in conquest, white teeth gleaming. The two rolled about in a desperate struggle for dominance. Doso used her fragile human nails like claws, grunting and shrieking like an animal herself.
Arms closed around Callithoe's shoulders and pulled her back. Her father the king, tugging her away. Dragging and sweating, they headed for Iambe and her other sisters. Metaneira pulled Demophon with her as she shrank away to the far wall.
Thunder cracked, close and startlingly loud.
Doso grabbed at a fire poker with a scrabbling hand. Twisting, she swung at the lion. A huge paw swiped the iron aside easily. Darting down, teeth bared, it went for Doso's throat. Simultaneously, the lion used its front legs like arms, wrapping them around her body. Planting its hind legs, it dragged her backward, jaws locked on the back of her throat.
Doso flailed helplessly. "No! He let Hades kill my sweet Persephone. I will never return to him!"
The mountain lion rumbled deep and loud. As if in answer.
"Help me, King Celeus!" Doso implored.
"Oh!" Metaneira cried, hands at her mouth. She held Demophon to her breast.
The lion tugged Doso toward the open window. A flash of lightning exploded at the same instant that a tremendous boom of thunder sounded. The palace shook with reverberations.
The brilliant white lightning illuminated the lion's eyes. The afterimage of those eyes seared into Callithoe's mind as the brightness blinded her. Eyes that were green and intelligent. Like the eyes of a human.
A terrible shriek came from Doso. It sounded like death, like the very voice of pain. By the time Callithoe's eyes cleared the room was empty.
Metaneira stood clutching Demophon still. "We are saved! Thanks be to Mother Rhea!"
Callithoe gave a half-hysterical giggle. Her head throbbed and she felt dizzy and dazed with sudden relief. "Do not forget Zeus. The Loud Thunderer speaks even yet."
Callithoe clung to her sisters, all of them breathing hard, sniffling, and dabbing at tears.
Demophon came back to himself, querulous, seeming not to know what had happened to him, and not any worse for it.
By the time they nailed the shutter back together, rain had begun to pour from the heavens.