I let my arms fall to my sides. No. I can run faster and aim truer than any of them, but I know I cannot fight like they do. Meleager has already thrown himself back into the action, his sword cutting closer and closer to the boar, but its massive legs and impossibly sharp tusks prove to be strong barriers.
Tydeus still lies forgotten in a red heap in the dirt. The other men crowd around the boar in a semicircle, but they can’t hold their position for more than a few seconds. None of them get close enough to land a strike. And I’m too far away to hurt the beast.
“Atalanta!” Meleager shouts, his voice strained, far from the steadiness of just a minute ago. I watch as beside him, Hippomenes tosses his head back to glare at me. That’s enough to make me straighten. I respect Meleager. He’s earned it. But Hippomenes? I won’t let that bastard see me scared.
I draw my bow again, sprinting down into the clearing beside the rest of them. Loose dirt gets caught in between the straps of my deteriorating sandals, but I push forward, squinting sunlight out of my eyes until I find my footing right in between Hippomenes and Meleager. They’re both a head taller than me, but I square my shoulders as best I can. I look up and try not to vomit. The boar’s stench nearly brings tears to my eyes.
“What—” My voice is too small. I let another arrow fly, and this time, the boar staggers backward. “What’s the plan here?”
Hippomenes laughs sharply, and Meleager tightens his grip on his sword, his eyes rapidly scanning the carnage before him.
“We need to get someone behind it,” Meleager mutters. “I can distract it from the front, but—”
“But there aren’t enough of us!” I have to shout to be heard over the boar’s enraged squealing as it shoves its way closer to us. We’re all forced to take a collective step backward, our weapons thrust between us and the boar, as if their steel alone can save us. I hear Laertes curse as he trips over Tydeus’s body. I swallow back a wave of nausea.
The boar scrapes its right hoof through the thick, root-choked dirt. It lowers its head, and its black eyes glint menacingly in the bright sun. Hippomenes takes a breath, but I cut him off.
“Split up!” I scream, diving to my right and praying the rest of them hear me. I crash into Hippomenes’s chest, and he stumbles after me as the beast charges through us. The rest of the men are on the other side of it . . . hopefully. Its body is far too large to see over or around, and Hippomenes and I sprint toward its backside as it swivels around.
But it’s not swiveling toward us.
“No,” I growl, scrambling back toward the boar’s front. I notch another bow and ignore Hippomenes’s confused shouting as I plow by him, desperate to get the boar’s attention on me and not—
“Meleager!” I scream, because he’s helping Laertes to his feet. His tunic is ripped to shreds, leaving his muscled back exposed. It’s all I see. And then I see the tusks. I run closer, the sound of my own breath becoming deafening. His sweat-slicked skin and the beast’s unforgiving tusks are too close to reconcile.
I launch another arrow I hadn’t realized I’d loaded. The shaft only hits the boar’s front right leg, but that’s okay—that’s all I need. Now the monster stares me down, angry, loud huffs of breath close enough to blow strands of hair across my face.
My mind screams for me to grab the next arrow, but my hands aren’t cooperating. The boar’s momentary surprise is the only thing saving me, I’m certain. A snarl resonates deep within its throat, and then my feet suddenly remember how to move. The beast is enormous, but maybe its size will slow it down. Maybe.
And I am nothing if I am not fast.
With the speed that earned me my spot in this hunt, I sprint to my right, shoving past Hippomenes. I don’t really mind if the boar skewers him. The familiar feeling of motion brings something back to life inside of me, and I load another arrow as I run, each breath and heartbeat chasing the next one, hearing the boar move faster than I’d like behind me.
I heave a huge breath and yank myself to a stop, turning around and aiming as quickly as my muscles can move. The boar lets loose a shrill scream, loud enough to make me falter.
My ears ring slightly, and I reel backward until my back collides with the knotty trunk of an olive tree. I clutch my hands tight to my bow as the monster collapses, clouds of loose dirt and dust swirling through the sunlight that fights its way through the forest’s choking shadow.
I’ve run farther than I realized. I can hear the men’s shouts and screams, but they sound tinny and distant. My eyes stay locked on the boar, though its cries have grown almost pitiful. I exhale, a small glow of pride expanding in my chest.
I slew the Calydonian boar.
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