The heat of her leather saddle burned her thighs as Emma shifted again atop Jemakh. Thirst clawed at her throat when she tried, and failed, to swallow. She gripped the pommel hard in front of her as Jemakh dipped to the side, the sand giving way under his hooves on the left side of the dune. She could feel her strength ebbing. Only one day without water and her body was already starting to shut down. Her mind had slowly become thick and cloudy throughout the day as if it was slowly filling with cotton. Even the rest break in the shade of her tent had not helped.

After she had left Regina's tent the night before, and had wacked a few sparring partners into the dust, Emma had sent for the three soldiers stupid enough to give away their water. Emma had ordered ten lashings to be given to each of them, and three more to the two who had abandoned their watch. However, in her heart, she didn't blame them. Regina could be so damn convincing when she wanted to be. That's why she had decided to give them a soldier's worth of water for two days to share between the three of them. What she hadn't told them, was that there was no soldier who carried enough water to spare, so she had given them hers. Only an hour into the day and she had known it was a bad idea, but what could she do? Leave them out in the desert to die? If anyone could pull through this, it would be her. It was the only way to minimize the damage Regina's selfish actions had caused.

Is if reading her exact thoughts, Graham pulled up beside her. "You should have left them to die." He held out his water skin and Emma took a small sip before handing it back.

"The scout report?" Her voice was rough and dry.

"No change. The canyon is clear."

"Tomorrow before we enter, I will take a scouting party through one more time. See it with my own eyes." He laid a hand on her arm.

"Darya, no, please. You are already pushing yourself too hard. Let me lead it." Emma shook her head.

"No Graham, I need you here with her Majesty. You know just as well as I do that as weak as I am, I'm still stronger. If we are attacked in that canyon there will be no chance but to fight our way out." She shrugged his hand off.

"Just don't overexert yourself." He rode off tersely, annoyed by her stubbornness. Emma pulled her shemagh tighter around her face before closing her eyes in concentration. Deepening her breathing, she reached out with her mind till she was connected to the strong flow of magic that flowed just beneath her skin. Under her dark clothing, her tattoos started to shine a faint bright blue, almost teal color, as she drew on her magic to strengthen herself. Her head cleared, and she didn't have to grip the saddle so hard. Fortification and strengthening magic were by far the magic Emma was best at; so good in fact, that she could project it to other objects besides herself. Yet it took its toll, just like any other magic. She just hoped she could keep up.

._.

The night that followed was so blessedly cool that Emma sacrificed a little of her food ration into the campfire in Ahura Mazda's name. They were a day's ride from the canyon, whether that was a good thing or a bad thing she didn't know. In the morning she would take a few men and scout the canyon in the day, waiting until nightfall to take Regina through. She could tell some of the men were unnerved by her obsession with safety but from what Darius had told her she wasn't going to take any chances. After rubbing her horse down Emma curled up into her blankets under the stars for the night, foregoing her tent for the small evening breezes. She had laid down outside of the range of the fire in shadow, tucked close under the thick darkness of a looming dune that gave a good view of Regina's tent and a good portion of the camp. Satisfied, she closed her eyes and let her mind drift under.

"Be still my little princess, we are almost there." A deep and soothing voice whispered in her ear, warm breath tickling her ear. Wrapped in a tight blanket with her father's arm around her, she squirmed impatiently as a covered wagon swayed back and forth. She did not like it here, the high mountain air did not smell like home.

"Was this a good idea, love? Visiting the oracle so late at night?" A female voice spoke quietly to the man holding her.

"You know the precariousness of the situation. You have never been on good terms with the Greeks. The oracle cannot let it get out that she called Emma before her, she's going to great lengths to make sure that no one suspects. Especially that nosy Cora woman. We both know the peace summit she called between us was just a ruse to get Emma to Delphi."

"What does she want with her? How could she have had a vision of her when she isn't even of her people?"

"To the gods, all humans are one people." Her father replied. The wagon stopped. "We are here." Emma glimpsed a huge stone temple amidst the jagged backs of dark mountains before being quickly ushered into the torch-lit building. The surrounding streets were dead and empty this late at night. They wove through many great hallways until they were brought to the back of the temple, where an old woman was hunched over a small flame burning in an ornate hearth. The smell of oleander was heavy in the air. Dim braziers hung from the ceilings and swayed in the small breeze that snuck in through the broad incense vents near the ceiling.

"Bring the child forward." Her parents gently maneuvered the confused Emma forward to stand before the old crone. The old woman was dressed in drab, unmarked brown robes. Her head was full of long grey hair, and her face was as wrinkled as a crumbling stone wall. "Emma, child. I'm so glad to meet you." Emma looked at the woman with large eyes. Slowly, she brought one gnarled hand to Emma's cheek, brushing it with the side of one finger. Immediately with a jolt, Emma found herself staring into the face of a beautiful woman. Like her, the woman had golden hair and green eyes, but those orbs danced with both light and deep shadow. She was dressed in simple dark war leathers, and a hilt of a sword protruded from her back. Although dressed for war, there was also an aura of femininity that radiated from her soft and graceful movements. They stood in the same room as before, but her parents nor the oracle were anywhere in sight.

"Hello Emma, my daughter." She smiled slightly. Her voice was soft but strong and commanding. Emma couldn't help but smile back. "We must be quick; Apollo will not like me stealing his oracle."

"Are you Aphrodite?" Emma asked in wonder at the goddess before her. The woman chuckled.

"No Emma, I am your kinsman. I grew up wrestling with my brothers in the palestra just as you have, though I appreciate your comment."

"Then who are you?" Emma insisted. The woman shook her head.

"All in good time, youngling. I have come here to tell you something. Please sit." The woman motioned to the sill that wrapped around the small flame. When Emma struggled to climb up, the woman hoisted her onto it with strong arms, sitting beside her. The warrior woman ran her hand through the flames burning in the brazier, seaming unaffected by them. "I am…was…a demi-god. Half human, half god, and was born to the Spartan throne—like you. I died a long time ago—and went to Hades, but my god-part, which can never die, gets passed down through descendants of mine. Someone has pulled my soul from Hades and re-attached it to the god-part living inside of my descendant—inside of you."

"Why?" Emma asked. "Don't they know its bad luck to awake the dead?" The woman chuckled and ruffled Emma's hair.

"I guess not, little one. You and I will be going on a little trip soon."

"To Egypt?" Emma asked hopefully, excited at the possibility of seeing the fabled city. She liked this woman, sad as she seemed. "I want to go there!" The woman smiled sadly.

"Do you know what this is?" She motioned to the flame she had run her hand through. Emma shook her head no.

"It's the eternal flame of Greece, child, the purest flame of all. It will burn for you until you return..." The woman paused and cocked her head, as if listening to something far off. "It's time for you to go back, Emma." Emma reached out and grabbed the woman's hand, the lady's eyes widening in surprise.

"When will I see you again?" Emma asked, entranced by this stranger in her dream. The lady softly smiled.

"Silly child. I will be with you always…" White feathers brushed softly against Emma's face, in a gentle goodbye as the vision faded from her eyes. Brought back to the present, Emma opened her eyes to see the oracle sprawled on the ground before her, panting. Both her parents were crouched in front of her, worry in their eyes. Emma's body was trembling.

"What did you do?" Her father spat accusingly at the oracle.

"That was not Apollo." The oracle looked at Emma with new and widened eyes. "Whomever that powerful spirit was, they risked much by taking my body for those few moments. I had had a vision that told me to call that girl here, but only now I know it wasn't by Apollo's will."

"What is going on?" Emma's mother cradled Emma to her breast while her father helped the oracle to her feet.

"Your child is hosting a very powerful spirit of the past within her body. She is of a god-line, yes?" Her father nodded.

"Zeus, from my side." The oracles eyes widened and became alarmed as she took in the reddening sky.

"You must leave now; your daughter is in danger!" Her father's head whipped left and right but saw nothing.

"What do you mean?" The oracle pointed at the now orange sky.

"That is no light of dawn, Prince of the Spartans. Take your family and leave!" Her father gathered Emma into his arms and ran for the carriage, not taking a second look. They had barely made it to the temple steps before a ball of fire crash landed, throwing them back. From the smoke, a figure stepped from the flames, dressed in dark red robes and a hood, dark glyphs stitched into the material. A high-pitched giggle emanated from the figure. From where she lay, Emma watched her father struggle to his feet and draw his sword. Her mother was knocked out cold, hand splayed toward Emma like she was reaching for her.

"Who are you?" Her father roared.

"No one of importance." The fire-monster giggled yet again, sending a chill up her body. It was not a friendly giggle. "I've come for the girl." Suddenly Emma was there with it, sharp claw-like hands digging into her collar and holding her there.

"Daddy!"

"No!" Her father charged; sword held high. The sorcerer only chuckled and whispered "Manavastra". They quickly lifted into the air and sped away, faster than Emma could sob out a goodbye.

Emma woke with a silent scream, chest heaving and body slick and shiny. Sand stuck to her arms and chest from when she had thrashed from the nightmare. The dream was already fading from her mind, but one thing remained: the vision of deep emerald green eyes surrounded by pure white swan feathers. She shook her head and tossed off her blanket, rubbing her eyes with fatigue. It's from lack of water, she thought. The wind had died down and the desert was quiet and eerie. Intrigued, Emma scanned the area. She had never seen the desert so quiet.

She felt it in her bones, something was wrong.

Cold stars twinkled above her head as a hint of red lit the horizon, it was only an hour or so till it would be time to start breaking down camp. Standing, she rolled her sleeping mat up and left it as she crept from her sleeping place, swinging her sword onto her back. She loosened it in its scabbard as she silently made her way into camp. She passed the sleeping mounds of her soldiers and smoldering fire pits, barely making a footprint in the sand. She made her way through the entire camp and back again, flitting from tent to tent like a shadow, without incident. Nothing seemed out of place or strange, but she couldn't shake the feeling of danger. As she rounded back towards Regina's tent, a strange shadow on the dune directly above their camp caught her eye. It was a small tornado, a sand devil, swirling in the twilight shadows.

As Emma squinted at it, a faint impression, almost invisible through the swirling screen of sand shifted. Suddenly the outline became clear, a horse and rider. And then she caught movement, a descending trail of moving sand, disappearing under the edge of Regina's tent. Emma broke into a run, no longer concerned with stealth, leaping over the beds of her men and fires alike. Sprinting towards the tent, dread clutched close to her chest. Sweeping the tent flap to the side, the scene before her confirmed her worst fear. A cream-colored pit viper reared over the sleeping form of Regina with fangs bared, dripping poison. Letting out a strangled cry Emma slid across the sand on her knees, swinging a single horizontal cut with a twirl of her wrist, wicking the head off the viper like she was dowsing a candle.

Disturbed, Regina shot up in bed, eyes wide in the candlelight. "Persian! What is—" She screamed and held a hand to her mouth in surprise as the decapitated snake head fell snapping to her bed blanket. Two more mounds in the sand slithered into Emma's peripheral vision on her right and left. Already inside the swing of her sword, Emma dropped it to grab the knife at her hip as another snake sprang and snapped from the sand. Whipping her arm out, Emma turned her back to Regina and sliced the reptile in half, already turning to kill the other, only to see its fangs a foot from Regina's neck, mid-spring. Emma did the only thing she could think of, she pushed her right arm into the path of its mouth, grunting in pain as its fangs buried themselves into the flesh of her arm. With a deft movement, Emma chopped its head from its body as it stuck there, then pried the remains from her arm.

"Swan…" Regina spoke, voice trembling and brown eyes wide. Emma saw clear liquid oozing from the deep bite on her forearm-it burned her skin as it dripped off her arm.

"Stay here." Emma rose but a strong grip on her arm lurched her back down. Fearful brown eyes bored into hers—fear for her. "Stay." Emma said again, gently prying Regina's fingers off her. Then she was gone, out the tent, and running toward the already disappearing sand devil. Her whistle pierced the camp like a gong, men who hadn't already awoken from Regina's screams stirred at the sound. Pounding hooves woke the rest. Jemakh, mane and tail streaming, pulled alongside her, running smoothly. Mid-stride Emma leapt into his saddle and bent herself over his neck for speed.