Late one afternoon, days before Cassandra's twenty-seventh birthday, loud cheering woke her from a nap. For months, she'd taken to sleeping most of the day away. When she slept, she couldn't dwell on Helenus' death (shortly after scaling Mount Ida, Greeks found and tortured him until he perished), and she couldn't fret over her visions.
Cassandra rose from bed, put on sandals, and left her bedchamber. She searched the palace for a friendly face.
While she heard many voices, she didn't come across anyone until she discovered her mother and Polyxena outside the throne room. They talked quickly and with exaggerated hand movements. Odd enough, Cassandra thought both glowed with a faint purple tint.
She rubbed her face. It had to be a trick of the light. Or she hadn't shaken sleep yet.
Cassandra stepped close to the Queen. "What's going on?"
Polyxena stopped mid-sentence, glared, then hurried off.
Hecuba sighed but turned to Cassandra. A smile replaced her frustrated frown, and Cassandra couldn't help but see her mother's eyes flash with a purple spark.
"Wonderful news! We've won."
Cassandra's mind still lingered on the strangeness of the color she noticed. "Won what?"
The Queen chuckled, a mad sound that twisted Cassandra's stomach. "Why, what else? The war."
Cassandra shook her head. Her mother lied or was mistaken. To date, all her visions passed. Cassandra had no reason to believe the prophecies that hadn't happened yet wouldn't one day. But that couldn't be true if the Greeks had conceded.
"How?"
The purple sheen in her mother's gaze intensified. "The Greeks just gave up."
"Just... gave up?"
"And to congratulate our victory, they gave us a giant horse statue. It's of wood, though, from what I've heard, that doesn't diminish its grandeur."
Cassandra recalled the vision with the horse with eyes all over its body and Trojans dancing around it. She couldn't imagine the Greeks gifting Troy. It had to be a rouse.
But what did the eyes mean? Why would the Greeks make a horse so horrendous?
Unless the eyes weren't on the horse, but a representation of what the horse contained?
What would the Greeks put inside a horse that could lead to Troy's downfall?
The simple answer hit Cassandra.
How could she have not figured it out in all these years?
Yet she couldn't have believed it in the past—she hardly did now. Then, Cassandra wouldn't have seen how the Trojans could fall for an obvious scheme, but now she could.
The realization boiled her blood.
A god had magicked her people.
Hecuba waved her hand to catch Cassandra's attention. "Hello? Are you listening?"
Cassandra spun around and raced out of the palace, toward the horse stables. She passed hordes of celebrating people, all surrounded by the faint purple glow. Cassandra wanted to shake them to see sense but couldn't afford to stop. She had to get to the city, to destroy the wooden horse.
As she saddled a horse, Cassandra remembered the rest of her vision. The Trojans hadn't heeded her warnings. When she'd tried to take matters into her own hands, her people had mocked her. So, the same would happen now.
Cassandra should have learned by now, she couldn't fight fate.
But she couldn't give up. And she clung to a thin shred of hope. Her vision hadn't shown her a god was at work. Maybe if she exposed the god's deed, the spell would break. Even with Apollo's curse, it'd have to work.
Despite the sun god's dislike for Cassandra, he'd sided with the Trojans in this war. He wouldn't want the people he'd championed to perish so easily.
She exhausted her horse, and the beast carried her at a tremendous speed to the city. By the time she reached her destination, the sun had set.
Torches lit the busy streets. People drank, sang, and danced.
Every so often, a triumphant cry would sound.
At first, no one recognized the princess. When they did, most people would attempt a bow and well wishes. Some were too drunk to notice. A few merely gaped at the unattended royal.
Cassandra paid them no mind as she sought the tool of Troy's annihilation.
The crowds thickened the closer she got to the main gate. The revelry startled the horse to the point it froze.
Cassandra dismounted and continued on foot. She elbowed and shoved all who came too near. They either didn't care or yelled in response. Once, someone hit her back, right in the shoulder blade, but it didn't give her pause.
Finally, she reached her destination. Cassandra gasped as she took in the massive wooden horse. It stood almost as tall as the walls surrounding the city.
Whoever had worked on it had put meticulous detail into the mane and hooves. The face looked as realistic as the horse Cassandra had ridden to the city. More than enough troops to topple Troy could fit inside the structure.
Cassandra buried her awe and demanded the head general's whereabouts.
A kind soldier led her to the inner ring of the crowd. He pointed at an open fire where a man danced around it with two women.
The soldier grimaced. "Not how I'd want to be found."
Cassandra waved away the soldier. "Thank you. I'll take it from here."
The soldier bowed and melted into the throng of people.
Cassandra marched over to the fire and gestured to the general, Polites.
In time, he spotted her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his haphazard dance.
Cassandra clawed at his hand. "No. Stop!"
Polites laughed much as the Queen had. "Isn't this grand? It's all over."
"No, it's not. The horse is a trick."
Her brother continued to sway to the beat he heard in his head. "Nothing so wonderful could be a trick."
"It is. And... Dionysus has convinced you otherwise."
Cassandra watched and waited for her words to settle in. She expected the purple glow to fade from Polites' eyes and from around his body.
It never came.
Instead, he belched in her face and skipped faster around the fire.
With a roar, Cassandra left her brother and went to the closest individuals. She told them of the Greeks' deception, of Dionysus' spell.
Like in her vision, no one believed her, and after some time, they taunted her.
After the thirty-fifth person, Cassandra gave up. She took an unoccupied ax and approached the wooden horse. Cassandra did so with stealth, unlike her vision-self had.
The surrounding populace seemed too interested in wine and their good time to spot her actions. If she moved with purpose, she could expose the Greeks' plan and save her home.
She almost stood beside the statue when a shout echoed.
Before Cassandra could close the gap between her and the wooden horse. Polites' was beside her. He ripped the ax from her hands, tossed it to a nearby soldier, and scolded her.
Other people joined him. Then their chiding turned to ridicule.
"They're inside," Cassandra screamed over the jeers and pointed at the wooden horse. "Burn this atrocity before they kill us all."
From behind, someone pushed her.
She stumbled as the crowd surged closer. Hands punched all while the mocking continued. They herded Cassandra away from the wooden hose and forced her back into the city streets.
Cassandra yelled her warnings. They stopped when two men tripped her, and she fell to the street.
Cassandra didn't stay on the ground, for she knew the citizens would crush her if she did. She glared at those around her, and decided, if they wouldn't listen, they could suffer their lot.
But her family needn't bear the same destiny.
She ran to the palace.
Cassandra moved the fastest she ever had. Under different circumstances, she'd have marveled at the feat; might have even wondered if a god aided her. Now, nothing but the thought of saving her family filled her mind.
Quicker than possible, Cassandra reached her destination. She tore through the palace halls.
Every person she passed she latched onto and warned them of the terribleness to come. Cassandra begged them to leave.
All shook her off and scurried away.
Much like in the city, after a few dozen people had scorned her, Cassandra took to screeching her words. She pulled on her hair, and more than once clawed bits of skin out of the person's arm she tried to help.
Cassandra had just finished her third loop around the palace when the King stepped before her. She grabbed the front of his chiton. "We must go. The Greeks, they're going to—"
Priam struck her across the face. He didn't hold back, and the stinging blow dropped her to the ground. He stared down at her with blatant hatred. "I'm through with this. You're a stain on my rule, and tomorrow I'll rid Troy of you."
Cassandra cradled her wounded cheek. "Tomorrow Troy won't exist."
The King's foot twitched, but he didn't kick her. "Enough!
Return to your bedchamber."
Despite the threat her father presented, Cassandra couldn't stop. "The Greeks will slaughter everyone. Act now before all is lost."
"I'll have your tongue removed if you speak one more word."
Cassandra eyed the King. She wondered since he wanted so badly to win this war if he'd have believed her even without Apollo's curse or Dionysus' influence.
Would he ignore her good counsel if it meant for a short while he got what he wanted?
What about everyone else?
Did pride, a trait Apollo couldn't change with his godly powers, cloud their ability to trust her words, too?
Did Dionysus' magic feed off their ignorance?
Anger flushed away her need to rescue her loved ones. Cassandra rose, turned her back on her father and all those she cared about and left the palace. She wandered the area between the palace and city until her feet couldn't carry her anymore.
On their own accord, they dragged her to a small, roofless building Cassandra didn't recognize as a temple of Athena until she collapsed beside the human-sized statue. She contemplated crawling to another location but didn't have the energy.
Cassandra curled into a ball and watched the stars fill the night.
Merriment still came from the city.
Her fury faded, and she prayed one last time to the gods. With all her heart, she hoped she'd be proven wrong. No matter what her father had in mind for her, Cassandra didn't want her home ruined.
Long after the moon had risen, silence fell over Troy. Cassandra speculated if it meant the gods had heard her and had chosen to comply.
Tentative optimism mounted.
Then came the first scream of thousands.