Chapter 25
Vines and Venom
When Danae woke, everything around her was misty.
She threw her arms out in front of her and was relieved when her fingers connected to fabric.
She began to panic again when she couldn’t find an opening.
It was like she was cocooned in the web of a giant spider.
Then a pair of hands appeared through the curtain, drawing it back to expose the girl who had served Danae wine at the feast. An amused expression played across her full mouth as she pulled apart the swathes of material and tied them back to reveal the insides of a small wooden hut.
“It’s for the konops.”
Danae stared at her. The girl made a buzzing sound then slapped her arm.
“Oh, the mosquitoes?”
The girl cocked her head and looked at Danae as though she were an ignorant but adorable animal.
Danae didn’t know how she’d got here. The last thing she remembered was gazing at the night sky through the smoke hole in the roof of the Hunters Hall.
And Polyxo, watching her. She shivered, then looked down and saw her black dress was gone and she was now clothed in an animal-hide tunic, like the women of Lemnos wore.
“How did I...where are my clothes?”
The girl laughed shyly and glanced up at Danae through her thick lashes. “You took off your dress last night because you were hot.” She gestured to Danae’s new tunic. “This will be better for the jungle.”
“Right,” Danae said slowly, disconcerted by the gaps in her memory. The wine must have been stronger than she thought.
Crawling out from the nest of furs, she saw the fabric surrounding her was bound to the roof of the hut and fell all the way to the ground, covering almost a third of the tiny room.
The floor was strewn with dried fronds and part of a tree trunk bulged through the right-hand wall.
She tried not to think about how high up they were.
She was relieved to see her dress and cloak were folded neatly in a corner and her bag lay next to them. She scurried over and pulled it toward her. Everything was there.
She shoved her seer’s clothing into her bag and slung it over her shoulder.
“Here.” The girl sat on her heels, holding out a woven plate. “I made you breakfast.”
Danae took the dish, broke off a piece of omelet, sniffed it, then nibbled tentatively. It was stuffed with the same violet flowers the mushrooms had been dressed in the night before.
“Mmm,” she mumbled as the flavors danced across her tongue. She shoveled the rest into her mouth.
The girl smiled indulgently, like a mother watching her child eat.
“Thanks,” Danae said through a mouthful. Then she frowned. “I don’t know your name.”
“Sofia. You’re Daeira.”
She must have told her last night. Thank the gods she hadn’t given her true name.
She set the empty plate on the floor and licked her fingers. “I should find the others.” Hopefully, one of the Argonauts remembered more of the night than she did.
Sofia slipped her silky hair behind her ears. “Most are sleeping, but everyone always gathers in the clearing when they wake.”
Danae moved toward the doorway. “Thanks for the omelet.”
She shuffled out onto the platform. Looking down, she saw a tangle of vines and branches but no obvious way of descending. The walkways only seemed to stretch between the tree huts.
“How do I get down?”
Sofia smiled, picked up a husk from the corner of the hut and dipped her fingers into the milky substance within. Danae recognized it as a nut from the tall trees on the beach. She recoiled as Sofia stretched out a hand, daubing her skin.
“You’ll need this first.”
She backed away, roughly rubbing the substance off her arm.
Sofia laughed, then proceeded to massage it over her own honey limbs. “Coconut salve. It protects us from the vines.”
Danae glanced down at her wrists. The welts were still visible from where the vines had bound her the day before.
Tentatively, she crawled forward and held up her arm, letting Sofia spread the salve over her skin. It felt cool and smelled sweet and creamy. She had a sudden desire to eat it. When Sofia reached her legs, Danae blushed, but Sofia didn’t seem to notice.
Once both their limbs were completely covered, Sofia placed the husk back inside the hut and grabbed hold of one of the many vines that trailed down from the canopy above.
“Watch first.”
She wound the vine around one leg then stepped off the platform. Danae peered over the edge as the girl glided down to earth, gripping the loop with her feet to prevent herself from falling. She landed on the ground with the grace of a gazelle, then looked up at Danae.
“Your turn.”
Danae grabbed onto a nearby vine and wound it around her leg like Sofia had done. She took a nauseated glance at the ground, clenched her jaw, then stepped over the edge. She fell to a shuddering halt just below the hut. The half-digested omelet flipped in her stomach as she clung to the vine.
“Use your feet!” called Sofia.
She bit back a retort about how ridiculous it was not to have a ladder, then slightly loosened her fingers. To her surprise, she began to slide slowly downward. She grinned. It was as easy as Sofia made it look.
Then her foot slipped, and she tumbled through the air, the vine tangling around her ankle.
With a painful jolt she came to a halt, dangling just above the ground.
Sofia’s face loomed above her, biting her lip to stop herself from laughing.
She pulled a knife from her belt and cut Danae loose.
Danae thumped to the ground in a heap, but only her pride was wounded.
“Any other way up or down?” she grumbled as she unwound the vine from her ankle.
Sofia shook her head.
“Right,” she said darkly.
“You will learn. Children can do it.” Sofia helped Danae to her feet. “Or we can winch you down in a bucket like an old woman.”
“I’ll get the hang of it,” Danae mumbled, brushing leaves from her tunic. Then she caught the glint in Sofia’s eye. A joke. Despite herself, she smiled.
She eyed the knife in Sofia’s hand. “Does everyone here carry a weapon?”
A faint line appeared between Sofia’s brows as if she didn’t quite understand the question. “Never leave the hut without a knife. Everyone knows that.”
As she spoke, Danae was distracted by a movement in the trees ahead. Ancaeus crawled out of a nearby hut and straightened up on the adjoining platform. A beautiful, raven-haired woman joined him and began rubbing salve into his bare limbs.
As she watched him, Danae became aware of the jungle moving around the hut.
It was dreamlike with the vibrant colors and sweet, heady air.
A butterfly the size of her hand flew past, cherry red swirls winking on its wings.
She turned her head to follow its path until Sofia’s fingers slipped between hers.
“Come,” Sofia said gently.
As they walked, serenity washed over Danae in undulating waves.
She was content for Sofia to lead her through the sea of moss-covered trunks.
The ground felt softer than back home. She looked down at her feet and the springy, luminous moss that cushioned her sandals.
It was so intensely green, it made all other greens look like a weak imitation of this true color.
She must have stopped moving because a moment later Sofia gently tugged her hand.
More Argonauts began to appear from the tree huts. Danae laughed as Telamon attempted to descend on a vine, lost his grip and fell to earth with a thwack, cursing all the way down.
Watching him brought back a memory. A story about a golden hind and men tumbling, dead, from the trees.
“When did all the men die?”
Sofia stopped walking, her pretty face crinkling into a frown. Then she pointed into the undergrowth. “Look.”
Danae followed her finger and saw a tiny frog crouched on a leaf. Its skin was bright yellow with splashes of black, like dark vinegar poured into a dish of olive oil.
“That is a dart frog. Polyxo uses their skin to make the phármakon.”
Danae stared, mesmerized. “It’s beautiful.”
“Don’t touch.” Sofia’s eyes were wide and serious. “Don’t touch anything unless I say it’s safe.”
Danae could have gazed at the frog for hours. But there was something nagging her, something lingering on the tip of her memory. Then it was gone.
Sofia placed a hand on her cheek. “The island gives to those who know her ways and takes from those who don’t. I want you to be safe.”
Danae found it hard to concentrate on Sofia’s words, entranced by the movement of her lips.
“Promise you will do as I say?”
“I promise.”
By the time they emerged into the clearing, the wooden structure of Artemis was drenched in sunlight. Orpheus sat at its base, surrounded by a group of women all working on his broken instrument. He glanced up, smiling dreamily.
“These lovely women are helping mend my lyre.”
Danae grinned back at him.
“Daeira!” Dolos waved at her from the edge of the clearing, where he was standing with Polyxo. “Look at this!”
Her fingers slipped from Sofia’s and she ran over to them. Polyxo was kneeling on the ground, rootling around in the undergrowth. As Danae approached, the old woman sat back, a white flower with a long black root clasped between her gnarled fingers.
“Isn’t it brilliant?” said Dolos, with the exuberance of a child discovering a colorful lizard in his yard.
Danae stared at the little flower, so delicate it looked like its petals were flecks of foam that would dissolve at any moment.
“We call it moly,” said Polyxo. “The antidote to poison. By distilling one petal you can create a draught that relieves the drinker of all their pain.” She pointed to her heart.
“Fascinating,” breathed Dolos.
“Help me.” Polyxo reached for the healer’s arm. “Girl, take my basket.”
Danae picked up the wicker basket laden with various plants. She glanced around the clearing, looking for Sofia, but the girl was gone.
“Where did Sofia go?”
She turned back to find Polyxo watching her.