Titans of Chaos

She was dressed in a white toga of classical design, a very wide belt, and sandals with strapscrisscrossing all the way up her calves to tie at the knee. Her hair was piled atop her head andheld in place with golden pins. I could see her bare back; and saw two long scars running parallelto her spine, where her wings had been removed after she and her sisters lost their duel with theMuses.

I unslung my rifle (Did I mention I had been carrying Antiope's rifle all this time, and that its stockhad been swinging against my butt and hip and leaving a bruise?), brought it to my shoulder, andtook aim. I used the thumb button to chamber a dimension-flattening round.

I could not remember if you were supposed to close one eye or not when aiming, or whether youwere supposed to hold your breath, or breathe naturally, or what. Where was I supposed to putmy other hand? Closer to the trigger or farther down the barrel? Was it okay to rest the barrel ona tree branch to steady it?

Dammit. Why hadn't I learned anything useful in school?

In films, people just shoot, and if they are bad guys they miss and if they are good guys they hit.

In films, they also don't hesitate.

I hesitated. Every thought I should have thought about the Amazons I now thought about thisunarmed woman. I thought about Quentin's warnings, about how killing someone would bring acurse down on us.

On the other hand, if I were dead, what did I care if I were cursed or not?

I thought: Some woman had to suffer labor to bring into being the life I am about to destroy.

When she was a baby, this woman had gooed and smiled and cried and taken her first steps. Shewas not evil, not back then. There is some mother who loves her, out there, somewhere. EvenGrendel Glum had a mother who missed him.

I decided to close one eye, rest on the tree branch, put my other hand farther down the barrel,hold my breath.

I thought: There are countless millions of babies on this planet alone, gooing and smiling andcrying and taking first steps. This woman is part of the group setting out to kill all of them. What'ssauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. Any jury in the world would call this self-defense.

Curse away, curses. Sorry.

There was no muzzle-flash, and the only noise was a sharp, flat crack. The recoil knocked mebackwards off the branch, so that I was hanging upside down by my knees, the rifle swinging likea pendulum at the end of a shoulder strap I was still clutching.