Chapter 25 #2
“Collecting lotus flowers. That is her task. She’s a good girl, Sofia, you will learn much from her in time.”
“Oh, we won’t be here long.” Even as she spoke, the words surprised her. It was as though, until that moment, she’d completely forgotten their quest. Her quest. The prophecy. Prometheus. The hope of one day returning home.
She glanced at the groups of Argonauts now dotted around the clearing.
It didn’t look as though much repair work was being done on the tree huts.
Telamon and Peleus were lying on the grass while islanders hand-fed them berries.
Castor and Pollux were reenacting one of their famous boxing matches for a rapt group of women, and even Tiphys seemed to be distracted enough to have forgotten the Argo.
The feeling that someone was missing returned with intense pressure at the back of her skull.
Polyxo slipped her hand around the crook of Danae’s elbow.
“Help me back to my hut, will you?”
Danae glanced at Dolos, but he was already distracted by the intricacies of a spider’s web. Polyxo pulled her away and steered her firmly toward the Hunters Hall.
“Shouldn’t we be mending the huts?”
“Plenty of time for that.”
Danae frowned. Her headache was getting worse. “What did you mean about Sofia’s task?”
Polyxo leaned heavily on her arm. “We all have our tasks.”
“Why does Sofia have to pick lotus flowers?”
Polyxo shook her head. “So many questions. Did you have breakfast?”
Danae nodded.
The old woman squinted at her but said nothing more. They walked together in silence past the Hunters Hall, toward a small hut like the ones nestled in the trees, but this dwelling was built on the ground.
Polyxo let go of Danae’s arm, pushed back the animal hide that hung over the doorway and shuffled through.
Danae followed her and was immediately hit by an onslaught of musk and spice.
Polyxo’s hut was like an apothecary. Every available surface was covered in woven bowls and wooden boxes of various dried plants and herbs.
The bodies of stuffed animals hung from the low ceiling, and blocks of insects, preserved in amber resin, clustered on the shelves.
“What are those?” Danae reached toward a jar filled with black-feathered darts.
“Don’t touch!” Polyxo slapped her hand away. “Prick yourself on one of those and you’ll be dead before nightfall.”
She stared at their tiny needled ends. They looked so small, so harmless.
Suddenly, one of the stuffed birds moved. Danae lurched back, nearly falling over a stack of crates as the buzzard flexed its tawny wings.
“Don’t mind Glaux,” said the old woman, delving into a clay jar and feeding the bird a maggot. “Now, pass me that.”
As Danae proffered the basket, she noticed a piece of jewelry on the workbench. It looked like a small gold medallion, a bow and arrow stamped into the metal, its chain wrapped around a tiny piece of parchment. Polyxo snatched it and tucked it into her tunic pocket.
“Tell me, child.” The mantis drew a bowl toward her, containing the flaked remains of a shredded snakeskin. “What did he sound like?”
“Who?” Danae was captivated by the motion of Polyxo’s hands as the old woman mashed the scales with a pestle.
“The Lord of the Sea. What did he sound like when he spoke to you?”
The beach. The lie. She had forgotten.
“Angry.”
“How did his words come to you?” Polyxo dipped a finger into the bowl and licked it. She added a pinch of herbs.
Sweat was pooling at the gathered waist of Danae’s tunic. “I just heard him, inside my head.” She was starting to feel nauseated, the sticky heat and muddle of aromas adding to the pounding inside her skull.
“Hmmm.” Polyxo set down the pestle and her hand drifted to a tiny bottle containing a milky liquid.
Then the sound of a horn blasted through the air. Danae backed away, a set of claws from one of the stuffed birds catching her scalp. She cried out, ducking away from its talons.
“The hunters have returned,” said Polyxo.
“I should go,” Danae mumbled, not waiting for a reply before stumbling through the doorway and breaking into a run.
She sprinted around the side of the Hunters Hall and felt a rush of relief when she spotted Hylas in the clearing.
“Daeira.” He beamed as she approached. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Hylas,” she said breathily, “do you remember what happened last night, after the feast?”
A line formed between his brows.
“It’s all a blur. I remember sitting around the fire and then... I just woke up in one of the tree huts—”
At that moment, the hunters came streaming into the clearing. Hypsipyle was striding at the helm, a horn pressed to her lips. Behind her, carrying a large boar trussed to a pole, were Atalanta and Peta.
Jason emerged from behind the effigy of Artemis, walked straight up to Hypsipyle and kissed her on the lips. The queen dropped her horn and pressed her body into his, raking her fingers through his hair.
Danae glanced around. No one seemed shocked by the display, as though the pair were a long-married couple. When they finally drew apart, Hypsipyle took Jason’s face in her hands.
“Your warrior earned her first talisman today. Atalanta brought down the boar with a single arrow.”
Atalanta was beaming.
Hylas leaned into Danae and whispered, “Where is her armor?”
How could she not have noticed? Gone was Atalanta’s silver breastplate, replaced by the same leather tunic the other hunters wore. She’d even shaved her head to the temples and her braids were woven into a single plait.
“She never removes her armor. In all the time I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her without it.”
Danae watched Atalanta basking in the praise of hunters and Argonauts alike as they clustered around her. The lines permanently etched between her brows were gone. Danae realized it was the first time since joining Heracles’s group that she had seen Atalanta genuinely smile.
Heracles.
The edges of her vision began to pulse. He was the one who was missing. She looked around the clearing but couldn’t see the hero’s towering frame anywhere.
“Have you seen Heracles?” she whispered to Hylas.
He blinked. “Not since... I can’t remember.”
Another cheer surged from the hunters. Hypsipyle clasped Atalanta’s hand in hers and raised it to the heavens. “Tonight, we celebrate the newest hunter of Lemnos!”
Danae looked around at the Argonauts. All of them wore the same glazed grin. Why was no one working on the tree huts? Where was their urgency to repair the Argo? Why was no one looking for Heracles?
She clutched Hylas’s arm. “We need to find him.” She turned, her eyes searching the depths of the jungle, and cupped her hands to her mouth. “Heracles!”
Then Sofia appeared beside her, a basket in the crook of her arm.
“Sofia, we need your help.” Panic was beginning to bubble in Danae’s stomach. “Heracles is missing.”
“I’m sure he’ll turn up.” She smiled and held out a lotus petal. “They taste good fresh too.”