Diana longed to ask why, but she knew any question to the Oracle would come at a price.
“You are one of them now,” said the Oracle. “Battle-tested. Even if they do not know it, you do.”
Battle-born at last. They would never know what she’d done, the quest she’d completed. There would be no songs sung about it, no stories of glory shared. It didn’t matter. She knew who she was and the ordeal she’d faced. She was an Amazon. The knowledge burned like a secret flame inside her, a light no one could extinguish, no matter what names they called her. Diana knew that she deserved her place here—and she knew there was more than just this life on this island.
“Thank you,” Diana whispered.
“You took the chance as we hoped you would,” said the Oracle. “We did nothing.”
But that wasn’t quite true. “When I came to ask about Alia, you told me I wasn’t a true Amazon.”
“Did we?”
Well, not exactly, but the meaning had been clear. “You told me I would fail.”
“We couldn’t know you would succeed.”
Realization struck Diana with the force of an unexpected wave. “You wanted me to go. That’s why you said those things.”
“Better to choose a quest feeling you have something to prove than take it on as a burden. We needed a champion, and you needed a chance to learn what you are capable of.”
“But I almost failed!” Diana said, her mind reeling. “The world was almost plunged into an age of warfare! What if I’d lost?”
“But you didn’t.”
“What if I’d chosen to come back to Themyscira when you offered me the chance, instead of facing Jason?”
“Then we would have known you aren’t the hero we hoped for.”
“But—”
The air rumbled with distant thunder. Diana ground her teeth in frustration. Maybe the Oracle was right. Maybe she’d needed to choose the path for herself. Maybe she’d fought harder because she’d known she had no one else to believe in her. Then she remembered Nim at the gala, saying, Oh man, do you have one of those tough-love families? I just don’t buy into that.
“Nim had it right,” she muttered.
“Oh, very well,” said the Oracle. “Draw closer, Daughter, and never say we are not generous in our gifts.”
The waters of the moat shimmered, and in them, Diana saw a great swath of green set like an emerald into the gray spires of a city. The park, Diana realized. The one she’d seen from the windows of Alia’s bedroom. The image shifted, and she saw a stone terrace marked by arches, a circular fountain with a winged woman at its center. Two figures sat at the edge, their faces turned to the sun.
“Alia,” she whispered. Alia was holding Theo’s hand. They looked older somehow, and Diana wondered what time she was peering into, how long it had been since the fight at the spring, if all those memories had faded for them.
Another figure appeared—Nim zooming by on roller skates, a pink bandage on one of her dimpled knees. She turned in circles before them, her flowered skirt flaring. She was saying something, but Diana couldn’t make out the words.
Another girl whizzed by on skates. She was tall and blond with a pretty—if somewhat weaselly—face. She snagged Nim’s hand, and they spun away, laughing.
Theo and Alia rose, ready for whatever adventure Nim had suggested, and as Theo lifted Alia’s hand to plant a kiss on her knuckles, Diana saw something on her wrist—a red tattoo in the shape of a star. The heartstone. Promise me you’ll come back someday.
Diana reached toward the water, and the image faded.
Was it a promise she could keep? It seemed impossible, but she’d thought so much was impossible, and again and again she’d proven herself wrong.
“I miss them,” she said. Her voice sounded small beneath the stars of the Oracle’s sky. “They’re worth fighting for.”
“Princess,” said the Oracle. For a moment, she took a new shape, one Diana had never seen before—a soldier standing with sword and shield in hand. She wore an armored breastplate, a lasso at her hip. Her blue eyes flashed, her black hair lifted by a distant wind. There was something familiar in her features. “You will have the chance to fight for them again.”
The soldier vanished, replaced once more by the crone. “Go home, Diana,” said the Oracle. “Maeve will be waiting for you.” Grateful tears pricked Diana’s eyes—her friend was well. The Oracle nodded at Diana’s bracelets. “Just make sure to stop at the Armory first.”
Diana smiled. She thanked the Oracle and hurried through the tunnel, her steps hastening, her heart full of joy. She did not know what the future held, only that the world—full of danger, and challenge, and wonder—was waiting to be discovered.
She ran to meet it.
Don’t try to land a Learjet on the Great Lawn. That’s actually a crash, not a landing, and you won’t be able to take off again. The waterfall that Diana and her friends visit does not exist but is inspired by the Polylimnio and Platania falls, where you can find a hermit’s cave and a small church built into the rock. The Nemeseia was usually celebrated on 19 Hekatombaion. Also, while there has been some debate over the site of Platanistas (the shrine dedicated to Helen of the Plane Trees), it was originally believed to be located not far from the Menealaion, near the Eurotas, as described in these pages. More recent theories locate it north of the site of ancient Sparta, closer to the Magoula River. In our skies, the Dog Star shines blue, not red. The star known as the Horn or Azimech is more commonly known as Spica. As for the location of Themyscira, I recommend consulting a trusted Amazon.
It has been an honor and a joy to write a chapter in Diana’s story, but I couldn’t have done it alone. Luckily, I know a lot of heroes; I owe them all a huge debt of thanks.
Chelsea Eberly shepherded me through this project with patience and smarts. Thank you for being a brilliant editor and champion diplomat. Many thanks also to the entire team at RHCB, especially Michelle Nagler, Nicole de las Heras, Dominique Cimina, Aisha Cloud, Kerri Benvenuto, John Adamo, Adrienne Waintraub, Lauren Adams, Joseph Scalora, Kate Keating, Hanna Lee, and Jocelyn Lange. Thanks also to Ben Harper, Melanie Swartz, and Thomas Zellers.
All the love to Joanna Volpe, Jackie Lindert, Hilary Pechone, and the rest of my family at New Leaf Literary, aka the League of Badasses, for their constant support on this project. (And a special shout to Pouya and Mel Shahbazian for the last-minute language assist.)
Angela DePace, Kelly Biette, and Clarissa Scholes helped sort the science of this story and lent their gigantic brains to Keralis Labs and Alia’s interests. I’m glad they use their powers for good. Dr. Katherine Rask generously guided me through ancient religions and archaeogenetics and introduced me to Helen of the Plane Trees. She is a stalwart champion of YA lit, and her expertise and creativity were indispensable to the writing of this novel. Andrew Becker and Dan Leon were kind enough to help me sort my choices on ancient Greek. David Peterson brought his conlang genius to the construction of the Warbringer’s many names and found me a kind soul to correct my Bulgarian. Thomas Cucchi talked me through flight protocols and private jets. Poornima Paidipaty gave excellent goddess guidance, and Sarah Jae Jones advised on skydiving, which I can say is something I never, ever want to do. I also want to say a special thank-you to Aman Chaudhary, who let me hash through the starting point of this story with him on the way to San Diego Comic-Con.