Looking down the long straight track, Atalanta again felt her heart sink. This was not how she raced Urso. They went through the forest—over trees and through rock clefts and wading across streams.
Suddenly that thought gave her an idea. Perhaps there was a way to even the odds just a little, to turn Orion’s great size and strength against him.
“What sort of a race is that for a hunter?” she asked.
Orion raised an eyebrow.
“Does a hunter chase an animal along a straight flat track?” Atalanta continued. “Does a hunter run halfway then turn around and go back before catching the prey?”
Orion smiled. “What do you suggest then, little huntress?”
“Let’s go through the woods,” she said, gesturing toward the thick woodland to the north of the village.
“And what will be the object of the race?” he asked.
Squinting, Atalanta used the flat of her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “What’s that up there?” she asked, pointing. “Up on that hill beyond the trees.”
Orion’s sharp eyes followed her finger. “A statue.”
“That’s our shrine to Artemis,” Labrius said.
“Make that our finishing post then,” Atalanta suggested.
Orion smiled fully, showing his white, even teeth. “Agreed. The first one to touch the statue is the winner.”
Atalanta nodded and held out her hand.
Orion took her hand in his but was careful not to squeeze her fingers too tightly. “It looks to be at least a mile and uphill the whole way,” he observed. “Are you sure those spindly legs of yours will carry you?”
They must, Atalanta thought. I have to be part of this hunt. She swallowed hard.
The starter asked: “Are you both ready?”
Atalanta looked down at the ground. “Ready,” she whispered.
“Let’s get on with it,” Orion said. “I’m growing hungry for breakfast.”
They waited till the people of Mylonas had walked up along the trail and the finish line at the shrine was well watched over by Labrius and his council of elders.
When all was ready, the starter—who was Labrius’ stoop-shouldered son—began his count. “One…”
Atalanta chewed her lip nervously. She needed to make a good beginning, for if she fell behind Orion at the onset of the race, she might never catch up.
“Two.”
Orion did a deep knee bend.
I can do this, Atalanta tried to give herself courage. He’s too vain to believe it possible. He’s never run with a bear.
“Three…”
Atalanta felt as tight as a bowstring. No, she thought suddenly, I am the arrow in the bowstring.
“GO!” shouted Labrius’ son.
Atalanta sprang forward at once, the arrow released from the bow.
Orion’s start was slower as if he knew he didn’t need to exert himself fully.
An enthusiastic yell went up from the crowd on the hill.
“Orion! Orion!” they cried. “Victory to the huntsman!”
Atalanta gritted her teeth, ignored their calls, and ran toward the trees, her legs pumping. She thought about keeping up with Urso, pictured him ahead of her, and raced to keep up.
“Run, Atalanta! Run!” It was Evenor. His voice floating down the hill was remarkably like her father’s and his encouragement put an extra spring in her step. Surprisingly, she found herself in the lead. She didn’t dare look around for fear of giving away as much as an inch.
Though he had started more slowly, the huntsman’s muscular legs were now hurtling him forward in long, powerful strides that devoured the distance between them. Soon he was alongside Atalanta. “You’re nimble, girl, I’ll grant you that. But you’ve a long way to go. A start is not a finish.”
Atalanta said nothing. She was saving her breath, straining every muscle to keep Orion from pulling away early in the race. But little by little he drew ahead.
Only a short way into the forest, Atalanta told herself. It was through the wild, forested country of the north that she’d raced Urso, and that experience was what she needed to give her a chance.
They ran under the canopy of the trees only a few feet from each other, passing from sunshine into leafy shadow. Ahead of her, Orion suddenly turned and plunged into a thicket of blackberry bushes, tearing a path through it like a bull trampling a hedge.
Atalanta rushed headlong through the gap he’d made, fighting desperately to catch up.
Now negotiating the forest’s many obstacles became part of the race. Here alertness and agility counted as much as speed. Boulders blocked the way, trees tilted across their path, great holes in the ground yawned at their feet. All of these had to be swerved around, dodged, leaped.
They took separate tracks, Orion on the higher ground, Atalanta below him. He remained bull-strong, blasting through what couldn’t be gone around. But Atalanta was deer to his bull.
It helped her to be the smaller now. She could duck overhanging branches, slip through narrow slits in the rocks, and make sudden changes in direction more quickly than the big man.
She saw Orion as a flashing shadow moving through the trees, slightly up the hill and to her left. Gradually the gap between them narrowed and, as it did, they both came upon the same fallen tree trunk, lightning-struck and gaping. Leaping at exactly the same moment, they hit the ground on the far side together, matching step for step.
I’ve caught up! Atalanta thought. Thick sweat plastered her hair to her brow; her tunic clung clammily to her back. She was struggling hard to keep her breath steady and the blood was pounding in her temples. She could only hope that Orion was suffering as much.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him set his teeth in a grimace as he summoned another burst of speed.
Then his pace faltered.
A thick copse of trees was blocking their way. At the sight of it, Orion broke off and swept around to the left to try and bypass the obstacle.
Atalanta decided that this was her one chance to pull ahead. Running straight into the cluster of trees, she drove through the narrowest of gaps between them, tearing her tunic and skin alike as she scraped against the rough knobby trunks. A low branch raked across her head, another smacked her in the face, which brought tears to her eyes. But still she kept on, slim enough to slip through.
On she sped, her arms now thrust ahead to push other branches away from her face. Twigs and leaves snagged in her hair, but at last she broke free, bursting into a more open stretch of forest.
She could see no sign of Orion.
Where is he?
She didn’t dare stop to look around in case he was already far ahead.
Then she heard him behind her, to her left, grunting like an angry boar. The sound drove her on as surely as a sharp spear in the back. Her legs were protesting now, telling her they had no speed left. She willed herself to ignore them.
She thought of Urso and how he ran so easily, eating up miles in a steady rolling gait. Be a bear, she told herself, and at that very moment she was a bear, her two legs feeling like four as she galloped along.
A wide stream suddenly stretched right across her path. She could hear Orion in close pursuit and knew that she couldn’t afford to lose as much as a single pace.
Gathering her nerve, she jumped the stream.
Be a bird, she thought, willing her arms to be wings. But it was too far across. Her left foot came down in the water and slipped on a layer of smooth pebbles. She pitched forward, throwing her arms out to protect her face as she fell. She hit with a splash and her right knee scraped painfully over a jagged stone.