Lena ran.
No thought. No plan. Only motion—her legs pumping, lungs burning, heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped animal.
Behind her, soldiers shouted. What began as distant noise sharpened into voices. A grizzled sergeant barked orders. A younger man laughed, breathless with the thrill of the chase. Horses thundered across the earth, each pounding hoof a drumbeat she felt in her bones.
The quiet whisper of the river vanished behind her, replaced by the roar of the city.
A donkey brayed. A woman scolded sharply. Children laughed somewhere nearby, their carefree joy cutting through her panic as Lena sprinted past them.
Ahead, towering stone walls blazed gold beneath the afternoon sun. Narrow streets twisted between them like veins—pathways that might lead to safety.
Or nowhere.
Run. RUN.
Ezra’s face burned in her mind.
The terror in his eyes.
The silent warning on his lips.
Those hands—hands that once guided her through ancient history—had clutched his staff like a lifeline.
She had found him after seven long years.
And now she was running away.
No.
I’ll come back.
A promise whispered in desperation.
Under her feet the ground shifted—from river mud, to packed dirt, to worn stone blocks polished by centuries of footsteps. The sudden hardness jarred her legs, but she didn’t slow.
She had reached the city.
?
The smell hit her first.
Smoke curled from cooking fires. Roasted meat sizzled somewhere nearby, rich and greasy enough to make her empty stomach twist. Animal dung mixed with the sweat of horses and goats. Leather. Spices. Incense drifting from a temple.
And beneath it all, the smell of people—unwashed wool, cooking oil, crowded bodies in narrow streets.
Life. Raw and overwhelming.
Nothing like the world she knew.
People scattered as she burst through the streets.
A woman in dusty robes grabbed her child out of the way. An old man shouted in a language Lena had only ever read in textbooks. A group of boys pointed and laughed at the strange girl in foreign clothes.
The sounds crashed over her.
Harsh consonants. Guttural vowels.
Hittite.
I’m hearing Hittite.
The realization struck like lightning.
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But there was no time to think.
Only to run.
Her lungs burned. Every breath scraped like fire in her chest. Sweat blurred her vision. She wiped it away with shaking hands, fear slick against her skin.
The streets twisted endlessly—alleys branching like a maze.
She chose blindly.
Behind her, the soldiers were getting closer. Armor clanged. Hooves pounded.
Keep going.
A cramp stabbed her ribs. She pressed her hand against it and pushed forward.
The buildings changed around her.
Low mud-brick homes gave way to massive carved stone walls painted with faded red and blue. Gods marched across the stone. Warriors followed behind them.
A temple.
Or a palace.
She couldn’t care.
An alley narrowed until the stone brushed her shoulders. Her fingertips grazed the rough wall, warm from the sun.
Then it opened into a courtyard.
A dead end.
“No.”
She spun.
The walls were solid. No doors. No windows.
Only the alley she had come through.
And the soldiers were almost here.
Hooves clattered.
Shadows stretched across the courtyard.
No. No—
Strong hands seized her and yanked her backward.
Her back slammed into cool stone. Air burst from her lungs.
A cloak wrapped around her shoulders.
Wool—dark and soft. It smelled of leather, cedar smoke… and something warm and alive.
Before she could scream—
Lips covered hers.
?
Lena froze.
The kiss was sudden, fierce.
Not passion.
Protection.
His body shielded hers from view, pressing her into the shadowed wall. His arms locked around her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
For a moment she couldn’t breathe.
She felt everything.
The brush of rough wool.
The warmth of his chest.
His breath against her lips.
His heartbeat.
Steady.
Calm.
The soldiers thundered past the alley entrance.
The stranger deepened the kiss, one hand cradling the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hair. The other rested firmly against her hip, holding her in place.
He pulled back slightly.
“What’s the trouble?” he called.
A soldier answered roughly, something about a runaway woman and the queen’s orders.
The stranger chuckled.
“Haven’t seen anyone,” he replied easily. “Just my woman here. We’re… busy.”
The soldiers laughed.
Hooves faded into the distance.
The stranger held her a moment longer.
Then he released her.
Lena finally looked at him.
Dark eyes.
A scar slicing through one eyebrow.
Stubbled jaw. Strong cheekbones.
And lips still slightly parted from the kiss.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She blinked.
“You… what?”
“You’re safe,” he said calmly. “They’re gone.”
“How can I understand you?”
Curiosity flickered in his gaze.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I think you were always meant to.”
Her shock snapped into anger.
“Why was I chased by the queen’s army?”
His jaw tightened.
“Because she wants you dead.”
Then—
SLAP.
His head jerked sideways.
“You slapped me,” he said, stunned.
“That was my first kiss!”
“You can’t just steal it and expect gratitude!”
He rubbed his jaw slowly.
Then—astonishingly—smiled.
“No one has ever slapped me before.”
“Maybe stop kissing strangers!”
She turned and ran again.
Behind her he called:
“Wait! I can help you!”
She didn’t stop.
?
The city fell away behind her.
Fields of tall grass spread toward the horizon, shimmering gold and green beneath the sun. Wildflowers scented the air. Mountains rose purple in the distance.
No roads.
No cars.
No power lines.
Nothing from her world.
This isn’t Pittsburgh.
She dropped to her knees in the grass, breath shaking.
The truth hit her like a hammer.
She was three thousand years from home.
Her vision swam.
And she didn’t hear the horses.
The net fell over her.
Rough rope tangled her arms and shoulders. Soldiers surged forward, hauling her to her feet.
Six of them at least.
And behind them—
The queen.
Dannu?epa
Golden hair cascaded over wine-colored robes. Her pale eyes were cold as ice.
“Welcome, little historian,” she purred.
Fear froze Lena in place.
“Did you enjoy your run?”
The queen traced a finger down Lena’s cheek.
“I’ve watched you run your whole life.”
“You’ve… been watching me?”
“Always.”
Her smile widened.
“Through Pittsburgh’s rain. Through every tear you shed.”
She leaned closer.
“I tasted those tears once.”
Lena’s stomach twisted.
“Why?” she whispered.
“Because you are prophecy.”
The queen’s voice softened.
“A key I planted long ago.”
Lena’s blood ran cold.
“Take her to the temple,” the queen ordered.
“And bring Ezra.”
?
The temple swallowed her.
Torches flickered across black stone walls. The air smelled of smoke and old blood.
An altar loomed in the center.
Soldiers forced Lena to her knees.
Rope bound her wrists.
A blindfold covered her eyes.
Darkness.
Somewhere nearby she heard breathing.
Weak.
Broken.
“Uncle…” she whispered.
Before she could say more—
A thunderous voice shook the chamber.
“What means this uproar?”
The king.
Mursili II
The queen answered smoothly.
“We captured a fugitive by the river.”
Silence stretched.
“Then prepare the sacrifice,” the king said.
The doors closed again.
The queen leaned close to Lena’s ear.
“You hear that?” she whispered.
“The king himself has blessed your death.”
?
Lena’s voice trembled.
“Please… let me see my uncle.”
“No.”
The queen’s voice was cold.
“You’ll wear the blindfold until the ax falls.”
Lena sobbed.
Softly the queen continued:
“I kept him alive for this moment.”
“He’s watched you grow up through my water.”
“Every birthday.”
“Every tear.”
“And now…”
“He will watch you die.”
Lena screamed.
The queen’s footsteps faded away.
Silence returned.
Then—
Breathing.
Weak.
Broken.
“Lena…”
