I whipped my head toward him, hissing and flicking venom from my fangs. Ernie was not my friend, I knew that much. Just his being at Achilles’s side was enough for me to consider him an enemy.

Behind me, the crowd cried out in fear, some of them calling on Achilles to save them from the monster. From me.

Achilles grinned, and the Bull Boys around him raised their weapons, roaring their challenge.

“Boys. Let’s get her.” He pointed his sword at me and I swung my tail forward, slamming it through the first row of Bull Boys as if they were bowling pins. I moved into the open space, swinging my head, biting through flesh and leather armor as if it were nothing. Screams rent the air, pulsing through my blood.

He’d killed Tad.

I’d failed my brother.

“Rope her!”

The first rope settled over my neck, strangling me. A hiss erupted out of me, and I snapped my mouth at the Bull Boys who held the end of the rope. But another woven rope settled over my mouth and clamped it shut. I whipped my tail forward again and tucked my head down into my coils, writhing for all I was worth. Mud and blood flung through the air as my multicolored scales glittered and flexed.

“She’s wounded! Aim for it!”

Wounded? I wasn’t wounded, what were they talking about?

“Alena, you idiot, you cut yourself?” Ernie screamed over the din. Was he on my side or not?

I couldn’t answer him, even if my mouth weren’t clamped shut. More ropes settled over me, pinning me to the ground despite my writhing. I looked for Tad, but he was gone, as were Jensen and the three girls.

Remo had stayed.

And my heart did a funny little thump as I watched him battle with Achilles, the crowd cheering once more. The two men were well matched, but Remo was bigger. Faster.

But Achilles was a hero, and I was beginning to understand that there was no beating a hero. That wasn’t how the world worked.

The monsters didn’t take first place. Not ever.

A sharp pain ripped up through my side, and the Bull Boys bellowed with nothing short of triumph. I twisted my head to see a spear sticking out of my side about ten feet down from my head. The wound I’d given myself to save Dahlia. They pushed the spear in farther and I groaned with pain. Laughing, they twisted the weapon like they were making meringue out of my innards, whipping it around faster and faster.

Ernie fluttered down to me, his face splattered with mud and several of his feathers bent. “Listen, you can still beat him. You have to. Do you understand?”

I tore my eyes from the men to look at Ernie. The Bull Boys tightened the ropes around my neck and I gasped for breath, the world darkening for a split second. Maybe that would be better. At least I wouldn’t feel what they did to me if I was unconscious.

“You can’t kill her, that’s Achilles’s job,” Ernie barked. The stranglehold lessened, as did the pain in my side as they yanked the spear out.

Ernie was back to me, whispering, “Shift down, out of snake form, and take this.” He held out a tiny arrow. “Use it on Achilles and no one has to die.”

Except that Tad already had. I jerked my head to the side, managing to dislodge several of the bulls that held me, and smashed my head into Ernie. I sent him tumbling head over butt into the mud, where he lay on his back, not moving, but I still heard him. “Ahh, I thought I was wrong about you, Lena. I thought you would show them a different kind of monster.”

His words stung, hitting home as no threat of violence could have. The anger left me in a rush, and I let the snake’s desire to protect itself and its territory slide away from me. The mist wrapped around my form once more, and I fell to the mud, the snake gone, along with all my clothes.

The men, and a few women, in the crowd whistled and catcalled, a cacophony of noise I did my best to block out.

This was not a time to be prudish. I ran, clutching my now-mangled arm to my side, slipping through the mud and taking advantage of the Bull Boys’ shock. I dropped to my knees beside Ernie. “I’m sorry. Give me the arrow.” He pressed it into my hands, and I helped him out of the mud. “I thought you were on Hera’s side.”

“It’s complicated,” he muttered. “Go. Before Achilles does more damage.”

I spun in the mud and started toward the platform. Whatever advantage I had was gone; the Bull Boys were back on me. But the mud wasn’t any easier for them to maneuver in than it was for me. They’d reach for me and I’d flinch away, missed by an inch at best.

Like a game of horrible tackle football, we careened toward the platform. I’d catch glimpses of weapons, of Remo’s face, of a set of horns as one of Achilles’s minions charged. Twice I fell to my knees, and both times Bull Boys flew over me as they leapt and missed.

I’d swept around the platform twice before I realized there were no stairs, no easy way to get up to where Achilles stood. Clutching my mangled arm, I spun, put my back to the platform, and faced the Bull Boys.

A screech that resonated along my skin snapped every eye to the sky. The two Stymphalian birds swept in a perfect dive. I raised my good hand and one of them grabbed me, yanking me out of the mud with a squelching pop. “Drop me on the platform!”

She did a single loop while arrows and knives were thrown at us. I was hit twice, but they glanced off. My human skin tore, but the scales underneath protected me.

Thank God for that. Good grief, did I really just thank God I had scales?

Her claws clung to me as we circled, and then she dropped me right behind Remo. He leapt forward and into Achilles. They went down in a tangled heap. Remo was on top, his fist slamming into Achilles over and over, the power of my blood running through his veins. Achilles dodged several of the blows, which sent Remo’s fist straight through the base of the platform. The second time it happened his fist seemed to stick for a split second. It was enough of an advantage for Achilles.