Clenching his teeth, he shook his head. “It's possible, but I don't think that's it.”
“I'm with Hector,” Achilles agreed. “If what you're saying is true, the seal would have protected all of us just now. Instead, I got body slammed, and Hector flung sideways.”
“Sorry about that,” Orestes offered, but Achilles waved him away.
“And let's not forget about her speaking another language,” Paris added. “Though it was nice to hear the language my people spoke.”
I wondered if I could switch back and forth. “Am I doing it now?” I asked.
Paris shook his head. “No. English with an American accent.”
“I don't have an accent,” I said, grinning when he smiled at me. He grasped my hand, tugging me from his brother and then spun me to pull against his chest.
“You very much do. But I like it very much too,” he whispered.
I stood there, smiling, until my gaze landed on the shard. It was right where we left it. Silence filled the church as we all recognized that we no longer had the option of destroying it.
“What if we smashed it with a hammer?” Paris asked. His voice made his chest rumble, and it sent delicious goosebumps up my spine. “Or drove over it.”
“I have a feeling it would launch the van into space, and I hate to think about the damage that could be done with a hammer,” I answered. As I spoke, the rightness of my theory settled in my chest. Everything inside me knew the destruction of the seal wasn't a possibility.
“I have to agree.” Hector dragged both hands down his face, rasping his beard. “But I don't know if I'm ready to place pieces together yet. The risk of doing that? It has to be a worst-case scenario action.” He glanced at me, narrowed his eyes, and added, “And don't think I'm letting all this go. We're going to figure out what's going on with you, too. Because it's something.”
Pressing my lips, I nodded. I was a researcher, and the evidence was right in front of me. I just had to put all the pieces together.
“I don't think we should get rid of the seal yet.” I left the comfort of Paris's hold to pick it up. As far as ancient pottery went, it was breathtaking. The historian in me was struck dumb by what it represented—a history that predated every event we thought had occurred. It was easy to forget that this wasn't just an academic revelation, but the representation of a myth and a record of an event that Achilles and Hector had suffered.
I turned the piece in my hands, examining the inside of the seal. It was smooth and iridescent, catching the light like the inside of an oyster shell. “It's really beautiful, isn't it?” I rubbed my thumb along the interior, then on the obsidian outline of Achilles and Hector. “For something that was so ugly.”
From the corner of my eye, Orestes approached me. He held out his hand for the seal. “Do you want to see more?”
The last time I did this, the seal had shown me a memory from another life. I hesitated. It could show me anything, not just Orestes's history.
“Don't,” Paris said. Hands on his hips, he shook his head. “You're not ready.”
I thought he was talking to me, but when he lifted his head, he pinned Orestes with a stare.
It hit me that we'd never really processed what he'd seen and what it had meant. There was more locked up in that vessel than we could guess, and I was starting to wonder if it had an intelligence of its own. It was connected to Hector, Achilles, Pollux, Orestes, and Paris, obviously. But maybe more than just their power existed in the seal.
“You never told us what it showed you.” Orestes frowned. He looked around the church, found a pew that wasn’t damaged, and sat. “Neither one of you did.”
“You touched it again?” Hector asked. “Why didn't you tell me?” He looked between the three of us, and guilt made my stomach clench.
“It wasn't a secret,” I said. “With everything else happening, it slipped down the list of things we were dealing with.”
Hector glared at us, then slowly, understanding dawned and his eyes widened. “It didn't show Paris's memory. It showed yours.” He lifted his hands, linked his fingers behind his head, and blew out a breath. “From now? Or before?”
Kneel.That deep, beautiful voice should have warmed me, but it only made my skin crawl and bile burn the back of my throat. The voice of a god, demanding I give in to him.
Paris didn't answer, and as our eyes met, I saw that he wouldn't. He was keeping my secrets until I was ready to reveal them.
I'd never had the experience of suddenly growing stronger. In books, people would steel their spine or stand up straighter. They'd have some kind of epiphany, and it would change the course of their existence. Because they realized their inherent worth.
I didn't expect it to happen to me. But this, right here, was one of those moments. It was the moment when I learned how to trust. It was the moment I learned someone was loyal to me.
Tome.
“Before,” I answered. I placed the seal carefully on a pew and went to Paris. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I let my head fall to his chest. I tightened my grip, trying to tell him without words what it meant that he was letting things go my speed. “From my other life.”