Chapter 2 #2
Thanatos flickered to his feet. “Then come here tomorrow, when the sun has set. For now, I have an audience with Hades.” He regarded me with subtle amusement in his eyes, and then disappeared.
I sat, unmoving, and stared at the place where he’d vanished.
I reached out and laid my hand on the empty but still warm spot on the bench beside me.
I walked the plane of Death? And I’d spoken with him twice?
Maybe my sight wasn’t so ineffective after all.
How this could be helpful to Halieis, I had no idea; but in truth, I wasn’t overly interested in that.
I wanted to see him again, to converse with Death.
And I wanted him to myself. Luckily, I had promised him as much, giving me cause to remain silent.
But what to say to my sisters? If anyone could see through my lies, it would be them. I thought it over as I rose and walked slowly back toward our tower. By the time I reached our chamber door, I’d worked out at least something with which to pacify them.
The lantern was out when I entered, leaving only the flame of a small candle to illuminate our room.
I was not so lucky as to find the girls asleep, however.
Alex rolled over in bed when she heard the heavy door open and close.
She looked up at me expectantly as I plopped into my bed with a sigh. I knew the others were listening, too.
“I’m sorry,” I started softly. “I know I must have seemed insane today, but I think I feel much better now. When I ran out, I went to the garden, and sat out on one of the benches. And this sort of peace came over me. Like…encouragement. Like patience. I think maybe the answers will come, in time. I think I’m supposed to wait and be steady, for this is just the beginning.
” I swallowed. It was the best I could do.
“It’s okay,” said Alex, though concern was still plain in her voice. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’m sure it will be alright, and you will be given more understanding. Maybe you’ll even be excited to come to it.”
Sophie grunted in agreement from my right. “Extra worrying won’t help, Cyrie. If the gods mean for you to act, then surely you will know it when the time is right. For now, just relax, and empty your mind to make space for them. Be the conduit. The oracle.”
I nodded. “I’m going to relax. I’m going to try to sleep.
I love you all.” I slipped under the covers and pulled them up to my chin.
Zoe got up to blow out the candle, then returned to her bed.
Silence fell over us as I closed my eyes.
Exhausted, I was out before I could turn back to obsessive contemplation.
When morning came, I was the first to wake.
The fluttering in my stomach returned in force, and now that I was rested, I found myself overflowing with nervous energy.
I stayed in bed, tapping my fingers repeatedly, until dim light reached the sky outside and I decided it was late enough to get away with waking my sisters.
I pounced on Zoe first. “Zoes, get up! I want to have a glamor day!”
This type of occasion had originated as a game of fanciful dressing that the four of us once shared with our childhood caretaker.
Now that we were grown, alone, and without choice in our attire, it had morphed into a more subtle form of united self-expression: we would spend the mornings before noteworthy days carefully painting each other’s faces and arranging elaborate hairstyles, holding our beauty as a shield before us.
Today, though, I had a different motive in mind. I wasn’t going to show up in the garden tonight looking like the absolute wreck I’d felt like yesterday. I was going to meet a god. I needed to look perfect.
Zoe groaned in protest at my urging. “Ugh, it’s so early,” she mumbled into her pillow.
I bounced on her bed. “Come on! It’s been so long since we’ve had one, and we won’t be able to once the festival preparations start. I want to feel good today! I want to feel like a seer while I think on my visions.”
She began to mumble her objections, but the commotion had woken Sophie as well, who yawned from the next bed over.
“It might be nice to do,” Sophie said drowsily. “Keeper’s meant to be back today, isn’t he?”
“You’re right,” I remembered. “All the more reason! Please?”
That was enough to convince Sophie. She joined me in persuasion, and together we managed to wrestle Alex and Zoe out of bed and into the wash with us. There, the chill of the water rinsed away our lingering sleepiness.
Between the four of us, Zoe was the most skilled in the art of makeup, so naturally I begged for her services, citing my need for support after my vision.
She agreed to be my partner, leaving Alex and Sophie to pair with each other.
Once we were clean and perfumed, we all lined each other’s eyes with brown color and smoothed our faces with powder.
Zoe darkened my eyebrows and eyelashes masterfully so that their perfection seemed completely natural.
Then we settled into our braiding session, weaving intricate plaits and decorating them with jeweled pins.
The familiar motions calmed my nerves as I ruminated on the day ahead.
When we left for our morning meal and rounds, I felt positively radiant, and my sisters seemed more relaxed as well. Our ritual bolstered our confidence in the face of the only blemish that stained our sunny morning: the return of our overseer from a matter of trade with a neighboring city.
Keeper had a name, of course, but we never spoke it aloud—not since the night he’d laid a hand on Sophie.
With her testimony quashed by the weight of his influence, this quiet disrespect was our only recourse.
Fortunately, he had not dared to strike any of us so boldly in the years since that occurrence.
Instead, Keeper preferred to toe the line by filling our afternoons with contrived tasks, carefully delivered scoldings, and few opportunities for rest.
This morning he traversed the courtyard with a smug look on his face, clearly with good news to deliver to the council.
Surely he’d prance up to the high wing to grovel tactfully at their feet, and I didn’t doubt that the elders would reward him.
He shot a haughty glare toward our table as he made his way through, an expression I recognized as a promise of toil in the coming days.
Once that rain cloud had passed, though, I spent my day in high spirits.
I was eager to meet Death again—an utterly astounding possibility—and ask him as much as he would let me.
I probably should be more afraid, I thought.
And I was afraid, to be sure, but that fear had been shoved deep down inside me, displaced by swells of curiosity and fascination. Who else would ever get this chance?
So when the evening sunlight began to fade, I gathered myself up and let my sisters know I’d be out in the prayer gardens.
I hurried through the garden gate and down the clay-brick path that led out into the trees.
In my nervous haste, I reached the designated place and sat down on the stone bench with plenty of time to spare.
I smoothed my white chiton obsessively over my knees, tapping my feet with nervous anticipation.
When that failed to provide enough comfort, I sprang up again and took to pacing back and forth beneath the nearby oak tree, trying to swallow my fear while side-eyeing the empty space where the god of death had perched last night.
I had only done a few laps when I heard the familiar sound of wingbeats behind me.
My skin prickled. I whirled around and found Thanatos sitting casually on the bench, his wings sprawling behind him. He was exactly the same as I remembered, right down to the playful reflection of the moonlight off his long hair and dark feathers. “Looking for something?” he teased.
My face grew hot. “Hi,” I breathed. I wasn’t sure whether I’d actually expected him to show up.
I supposed this answered that question. I tried to ignore my shaking legs as I walked over and sat down on the bench beside him.
I leaned back onto one hand and offered a friendly smile. “Uh…how was your day?”
He gave me a quizzical look. “My day?” His voice was soft and deep and almost musical, a disarming sound from such a dreaded god.
“Yeah, I mean…did you meet anyone interesting today? While taking people’s souls?”
“Well, I suppose the best today was the one who did not believe it was me.” He chuckled wryly. “It takes a rare soul to evade terror upon seeing my face. But sometimes you mortals just figure yourselves untouchable, for reasons beyond me.”
“What? How could they not realize?” I pressed. “I mean, just look at you! You brought the scythe, right? That thing is terrifying.”
“Ha. Yes, I did. But he remained convinced he was dreaming, the poor fool. He thought himself favored by someone on Olympus, cared for enough to be protected into old age. But sickness claimed him all the same.”
“What a silly man,” I agreed. “I suppose he’s eating his words in the Underworld now.”
Thanatos flashed me a mischievous smile. “He is not quite there yet. He will not be feeling much of anything right now.” His brows arched slightly, and I guessed that he wanted me to ask what he meant.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, you wanted to know yesterday how I…work. I will tell you, if you still wish it,” he offered cheerfully. “Just answer one question of mine.”
My grip on our bench’s edge tightened, and I fought to ignore an impulse of suspicion. “Alright,” I replied, my voice unwavering. “What would you like to ask?”
Thanatos leaned toward me, and a lock of smooth, pale hair slid over his shoulder. His wings fanned out further behind us in a motion interpretable as either laziness or intimidation. I bit my lip, and my hold on my seat drained the color from my knuckles.
“If I were to make it impossible for you to ever share what I say to you, would you still wish to hear it?”