0451472004 Read Online Free PDF Page A

and screamed.
    Bile rose in my throat as the breeze tossed the scent of burning flesh and cedar into the wine-dark heavens. The heat of the fire pushed me back and Eurydice’s screams and her son’s cries fell silent, replaced by the greedy crackle of flames and Arrhidaeus’ renewed howls.
    Olympias stood before the conflagration, wearing an expression of ecstasy as shadow-flames danced on her face and her golden snake bracelets seemed to writhe up her arms. I choked and clamped my eyes closed, wishing I could unsee the image seared into my mind.
    And I knew then that my father was right, that Olympias was worse than any viper.
    “No,” Arrhidaeus shouted. “No, no, no!”
    “Remove Arrhidaeus to his rooms,” Olympias commanded. I opened my eyes as guards stepped from the shadows and pulled Arrhidaeus back from the makeshift pyra even as he reached out as if to rescue the bodies from the flames. I ducked my head and turned to follow, my lungs screaming as I tried not to breathe, but Olympias’ voice stopped me cold. “You shall stay by my side, Thessalonike.” I cringed, my every muscle trembling as if Poseidon shook the ground beneath my feet. “One day you may be queen of Thessaly or Illyria or even Sparta, and this”—she gestured toward the pyra —“is a lesson all queens must learn.”
    I had no choice but to obey, yet I set my gaze beyond the fire with its hisses and smell of Hades’ brimstone and desolation, trying desperately to ignore the blackened silhouettes—one tall and one so very tiny—in the middle of the flames. I’d harbored no love for Eurydice, but surely she hadn’t deserved to die. And her tiny son . . .
    “Eurydice was a traitor,” Olympias said, as if reading my thoughts. “And traitors must die terrible deaths. Remember that, if ever you are tempted toward leniency for your enemies.”
    “But Eurydice only wanted what you wanted,” I choked out, shocked at my own daring and stupidity. “To put her son on the throne.”
    “Perhaps,” Olympias said. “And for that, I gave her the mercy of dousing the wood with olive oil.”
    I was saved from having to speak, or perhaps from having my tongue chopped out, as Alexander barreled into the courtyard behind me, the disbelief on his face warped first by shock and then by rage. His wild eyes scanned the fire and he recoiled; then he drew his sword and pointed its tip at Olympias’ throat. “You’ve overstepped yourself, Mother!”
    “You are supposed to be at your father’s tomb,” Olympias said. She tilted her chin back as if daring him to slit her pale throat. “This was to be done and the ashes swept away before you returned.”
    “I forbade this!” he yelled, motioning at the pyra . “Eurydice and her son were as harmless as Arrhidaeus!”
    My mouth went dry and it became impossible to swallow around what might have been shards of glass embedded in my throat. Arrhidaeus shared my father’s blood, but he was simple and illegitimate, surely no threat to Olympias or Alexander.
    “You’re too soft, son of mine.” She spoke calmly, her voice almost drowned out by the crackling flames. “Eurydice was an ambitious bitch, and would have used her son to garner support against you and steal your father’s throne. This is my gift to you, Alexander. It is my name that shall be blackened with their deaths, not yours.”
    Alexander seemed to hesitate, then growled deep in his throat and lowered his sword so fast that it clanged against the tiles. “If you dare touch Arrhidaeus, I swear I’ll build your pyra with my own hands.”
    Olympias gave an elegant shrug, her copper hair still catching the light of the dying fire. “His mind and his bastard birth preclude his being a competitor for your throne. Keep him alive if you will.” I sagged with relief, but her next words stopped my heart. “My brother, Alexander of Molossia, has turned tail and run back to Epirus, but what shall you do with Amyntas? As Cynnane’s