Chapter 4 #2
The Maenads glanced at each other.
“Come with us.” The first woman stretched out a hand.
Danae hesitated. Her mother would be frantic on the other side of the river. She should go back, tell her she was safe, but she doubted the women would wait for her to return.
Swallowing her guilt, she took the Maenad’s hand.
The Maenads’ encampment was chaos.
A grove of wild fruit trees was scattered over the hillside and the air was sweet with the scent of apples, figs and pomegranates.
The trees were all mixed together as if someone had muddled their seeds and thrown handfuls in the air, leaving their fate to the wind.
Vines too were tangled around the branches of the mature fruit trees, kissing their bows with indigo clusters of grapes.
There were Maenads everywhere. Women old and young, all naked, some balancing baskets on their hips as they harvested the fruit. Animals and children ran about their feet, chickens squawked and goats nibbled on low-hanging fruit.
Beyond the grove was a ramshackle structure. It looked as though it had once been a large house that over the years had spawned additional extremities and was now a rambling collection of dwellings all joined together.
The two Maenads led Danae through the grove to an older woman who sat with a brood of infants on the steps of the house.
“Ariadne,” called the first Maenad. “This is...” She looked at Danae.
“Danae.”
Ariadne stood slowly and gently shooed the children away. Her skin was the color of fresh cream, her gray hair so long it fell past the silver stretch marks on her abdomen. She walked forward and drew Danae into a tight embrace.
Danae stiffened at the proximity of this stranger’s naked body to her own. Drawing away, she said, “My sister was taken from the Thesmophoria. Your...” She looked at the younger Maenad.
“Oenone,” prompted Ariadne.
“Oenone, said you might know what happened to her.”
Ariadne’s pale eyes darted to Oenone then back to Danae. “I cannot say for sure. I can only tell you the warning I was given by my husband.”
“You’re married?”
The stories she’d heard told that the Maenads were an all-female community who didn’t interact with anyone outside their sect. Looking around, Danae could see no men anywhere in the grove.
Ariadne smiled. “I am the wife of our lord, Dionysus.”
“You’re married to one of the Twelve?”
Ariadne’s lips twitched at the incredulity in her tone.
“The gods of Olympus have taken mortal lovers since the dawn of mankind. Is it so strange that our two souls wish to live in union for the time I have upon this earth?”
Danae didn’t know what to say. She rubbed her face and tried to focus. “What was the warning? Tell me.”
Ariadne took Danae’s hands in hers. Her skin was soft and wrinkled like an overripe peach.
“My husband warned us that a creature would come to our island. An unseen beast with scarlet eyes that hunts mortals. He called it a shade, and its victims, I believe, you call the Missing.”
Danae felt the cold breath of fear on her neck. She’d seen it. Twice.
“But the Missing never come back. The shade can’t have taken my sister because she was returned to us. It must have been a man because...she’s pregnant...” Her words dissolved at the pained expression on Ariadne’s face.
Her lips parted, but she couldn’t ask the question, could not voice the horror that had just taken root in her mind.
Ariadne put her arms around Danae, and she crumpled, sobbing as though crying out all the pain would undo what had happened to Alea.
Eventually her heaving shoulders stilled. She pushed Ariadne away, raw and embarrassed.
“I am sorry,” Ariadne said softly. “We do not know for sure that it was the shade who took her, but even so, what happened to your sister is an evil crime. I am glad at least, that she has you. I wish, in my time of need, I’d had my sister.”
There was an ache in Ariadne’s words, a river of understanding that Danae had unknowingly touched. She wiped her face. “What happened?”
Ariadne loosed a small sigh. “I was a foolish girl who betrayed her family for a prince and an empty promise of marriage. He took what he wanted and left me here to die. He is King of Athens now, I believe.” Her face softened.
“But it has been decades since my Dionysus found me and look,” she gazed at the grove.
“Time is kind. It may bring pains to the body, but it heals those of the heart.”
A headache was beginning to pulse behind Danae’s eyes.
“What happens to the Missing? Did your husband tell you?”
Ariadne shook her head. “He only said that once someone has been taken by a shade, they are as good as dead. He would speak no more on the matter.”
“Why didn’t you make him tell you?”
Ariadne laughed. “My husband is a god, child. A benevolent one, but a god nonetheless. He cannot be made to do anything.”
Danae’s frown deepened. “But Alea came back. I don’t understand, why would the shade return Alea to the temple, and why would it—” she couldn’t bring herself to say the word “—do that to her?”
Ariadne tilted her head. The pity in the Maenad’s eyes shuddered through her like a stone striking metal.
“I do not know. There are creatures in this world that delight in the pain and suffering of others. Be thankful your sister is alive.”
“Will it come back?” Danae whispered.
Ariadne did not answer immediately. “I would be wary. There is a reason your sister did not join the Missing. The shade may have unfinished business with her.”
The child. A wave of nausea washed through her.
Ariadne placed a hand on her arm and said gently, “You should go home—your family will be worried.”
Danae nodded, and let the Maenad guide her toward the grove.
“You and your sister are always welcome here. We do not judge any woman on the hardships life has weighed upon her. Do not give up hope.” Ariadne pulled her into one last embrace. “Take care of yourself, Danae.”
She took a step toward the forest, then turned back. “Is it true...do the Maenads really kill babies?”
Ariadne shook her head sadly. “We are liberated women, not monsters.”
Danae swallowed. “Thank you for telling me about the shade.”
As she turned once more toward the trees, Adriane called out, “Remember, my Lord Dionysus protects his flock. It would be unwise for you to speak of where you found us.”
She glanced back, then set off at a run through the grove. The last thing she wanted was to incur the wrath of a god.
Danae sprinted all the way home, but the sun had already melted into the sea by the time she reached the yard. She’d been gone for most of the day.
She crashed through the gate, doubled over to catch her breath, then pushed through the hut door. She barely had time to take in the room before her mother crossed the space and grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Where have you been!? Are you hurt? What did they do to you?”
“I’m fine.”
Eleni stared at her for a heartbeat, then slapped her. Stunned from the pain, Danae stayed rooted to the ground.
Her sister let out a small sob. “Oh, Danae, we were so worried.”
“How could you?” Her mother was trembling.
“I’m sorry, I—”
“Your father is out there now, searching for you.”
In addition to the throbbing in her skull, a sickening weight settled in Danae’s stomach.
“I cannot believe, after everything we’ve been through with your sister, you would run off with those women.” Her mother spoke quietly. It pierced Danae deeper than if Eleni had shouted.
“I’m sorry, I truly am, but I learned something important.
” She turned to her sister. “The Maenads are nothing like we’ve been told, they were kind, and they told me there’s an unseen creature with red eyes who’s been taking the Missing—they called it a shade—and—” she gulped in a breath “—that’s what took you from the festival, and Ariadne said it might have unfinished business—” she looked at her sister’s stomach “—so we need to be careful—”
“Enough of this nonsense!” Her mother grabbed Danae’s arm. “You want to keep the company of animals? Then you can sleep outside with the goats.”
“Ma, please,” Alea protested, but Eleni ignored her.
She picked up her husband’s old fishing rope and tied it in a knot around Danae’s wrists, then pushed her out into the goat enclosure and secured the other end to the fence.
Danae was too stunned to fight back. Rage had distilled into diamond-hard resolve in her mother’s eyes. Eleni disappeared back into the hut, then emerged with a blanket, which she threw at Danae’s feet. Without another word, she bustled Alea back inside and slammed the door.
Danae slumped down against the wall of the hut, underneath the goats’ awning. She pulled the blanket over her legs. Pilops came trotting over and nuzzled her. She pressed her face into the goat’s musty fur and groaned.
In the silence, the terror she had repressed since the Maenad’s camp stirred.
If it was a shade that took her sister, what was the thing now growing inside Alea?
Danae woke to the creak of the yard gate.
Her body ached from a fitful night tossing and turning on the hard earth.
She had barely slept, her mind a roaring torrent, each thought more terrible than the next.
Yawning, she stretched her limbs and looked over to see her father staring at her.
His eyes were rimmed with shadows. The blanket slid to the ground as she scrambled to her feet.
“Pa, I’m sorry...” she began, but her father turned away without a word and disappeared into the hut.
She sank back down and pulled the blanket back over her legs.
A moment later, she sat up again as her father reemerged with fishing nets slung over his shoulder.
Hope fluttered in her chest, then sank. He didn’t look at her as he crossed the yard and took the path down to the sea.
She cradled her head in her hands, guilt gnawing at her insides.
Hearing the door again, she glanced up. Alea walked toward the goat pen, a cup of water in her hand. Her sister let herself into the enclosure and sat down beside her. Danae took the cup and drained it in a few gulps.
“Thanks.” She wiped her mouth, and her eyes drifted to Alea’s stomach. Her throat tightened.
“You might be sleeping out here for a few more nights.” Alea took the cup, then began to pick at the knotted rope around Danae’s wrists. “Ma’s still furious.”
Danae forced herself to smile. “That’s all right, I sleep better out here anyway. The goats don’t snore.”
Her sister rolled her eyes, as the rope fell loose in her hands.
Danae rubbed her wrists. “Alea, if it was this shade creature that took you—” she glanced again at her sister’s stomach “—I don’t want to frighten you, but...the baby might not be human.”
Alea held her gaze and said calmly, “You’re right.”
Danae saw Alea’s secret rise, until it floated just below the surface. She didn’t dare speak, afraid to send it scampering back to the depths.
“I should have told you before. But I was afraid you wouldn’t understand...” Alea hesitated. “I know who my child’s father is.”
Danae’s mouth went dry.
“At one point, I woke...and I saw his face.”
She felt sick. Alea had known all this time.
“Is it the shade?” she asked flatly.
A prickle of unease crept up her spine at the smile spreading across her sister’s face.
“It’s Zeus.”