The Princess of Sparta: Heroes of the Trojan War by Aria Cunningham Read Free Book Online Page B

what you will, Blessed Daughter. I am here. ”
    Helen’s eyes shot wide. It was no earthly voice. No living creature could produce such an awesome mixture of melody and vibration. Tryphosa, the mortal, had vanished. The person sitting before Helen was a rigid shell, the mouth for the Goddess who spoke through her lips.
    Helen leaned forward, drawn towards that force like a cub to her dame. Ask , she had offered. Helen’s mind swirled with the many faces of her suitors. But her curiosity, as always, got the best of her. “Is it true-” she hesitated, hating the question but desperately needing its answer, “Is it true that men are ignorant of love, real love?” She didn’t want to believe Nestra, but her sister had been married three years. She had seen much of the world. Helen’s knowledge of men was nonexistent. What little she’d seen had done nothing to convince her Nestra was wrong.
    “ There are some, both male and female, who are ignorant of my love. ” The Goddess intoned. “ But I am not so fickle to deny them that bliss. They choose the cold solitude of a shuttered heart. ”
    “But why would anyone choose that?” Helen frowned. A world with no compassion, no care, no love...? That gaping chasm opened itself before her. It made her want to cry. What God would be cruel enough to let their people suffer so?
    The coals sparked and the priestess lowered her white gaze on Helen, making Helen shiver despite the sweltering heat.
    “ The love that you receive is equal to the love you give. ” Her white-lidded eyes bore into her. “ And for those rare souls who give with no thought of receipt, on those I bestow my special favor. ” The Goddess’ voice rose in volume, cresting in ecstasy. “ Only they are worthy of the eternal love; the force that breaks bonds of brotherhood, that transcends the vagaries of pride and ego, a binding of souls that endures across the Ages. ”
    “ ...soul mates. ” Helen whispered. Was it possible? She had thought such tales were fabrications by the bards who sang for their suppers. The original Man was neither male nor female, the legend went, but a perfect balance of both parts, a creature so whole and happy that the Gods looked down from Olympus with envy. And so Zeus, in his jealousy, struck Man down with a bolt of lightning, severing its soul in two. And thus mankind was doomed to roam the earth, searching in vain for their other half.
    Helen’s heart skipped a beat. Why was the Goddess telling her this? “Am I...? Are you...?” her feeble tongue choked on the words.
    The brazier blazed to life, flames leaping five feet into the air. Tryphosa rose to her feet, her perfect features aglow with a burning power.
    “ You, Helen of Sparta, will have the greatest love that ever was, is, or is yet to be. Your love will rock the foundations of this earth. ”
    Helen didn’t breathe. She didn’t even dare move. A clamoring bell of alarm rung loudly in her mind. Her father was choosing her husband on the morrow and none of her suitors invoked the feelings the Goddess described. “How will I know?”
    “ It is a power undeniable, a force stronger than the turning of the tide. You cannot mistake it, for the visage of your other half will be as familiar to you as your own. You will know.”
    Tryphosa lurched forward, her arms flopping at her side as though someone cut the cord that made them function.
    “But how!”Helen leapt to her feet, desperation lending her strength.
    “ Follow your heart. ” The Goddess’ heavy words drifted away as though sucked back into the priestess’ quivering throat. “ It never lies. ”
    An enormous gust of wind rushed through the temple, lifting Helen off her knees. It seemed a living entity, this wind, a ghostly touch of some unseen power. It wove around the priestess, her limp and lifeless body held tight in its embrace. Tryphosa’s arms spread wide and back and her head tipped up towards the heavens. In a rushing vortex, the gust