Chapter XV #2
“You have lived in Athens for a little over a fortnight, Meddy,” she continues.
“I have lived here my whole life. I’ve seen good things happen to bad people in this city, and I’ve also seen bad things happen to good people.
You can’t right every wrong, but you can make a difference.
” She lowers her voice. “That’s what we are called to do, as servants to the Goddess. ”
The storm that raged inside me earlier is gone, and in its place I feel the cool, undeniable press of shame. She’s not here, but I feel Athena’s disapproving gray gaze. Silence falls between Apollonia and me.
“I’m going to head back to the Acropolis,” she says. “Are you coming?”
I know I should go with her, but I can’t make my feet move. I realize I’m not ready to return to the temple and face a thousand tiny reminders of the goddess whose expectations I’ve just failed to live up to.
“You go ahead,” I say quietly. “I’ll catch up.”
Apollonia hesitates a moment, then nods. I watch as she makes her way up the road, keeping my gaze fixed on her until she turns a corner and is out of sight. I’m struck by how alone I feel in her absence.
I cast my eyes skyward, noting the darkening sky and the clouds rolling in. It will be nightfall soon, but I opt to double back the way Apollonia and I originally came, choosing a longer route to return to the Acropolis. The walk will give me time to think.
Apollonia’s words nip at my heels as I trek along the winding street.
When I’m honest with myself, I know she is right: What I did to that boy was out of line.
The problem is, I can’t reconcile that with the fact that a part of me still isn’t entirely sorry.
I let my anger get the better of me when I slapped the boy, but I also stood up for someone who wasn’t able to stand up for herself. I helped, didn’t I?
Then why did that little girl look at me like I was the monster?
I can’t identify a satisfactory answer to that question, so I bury it and continue walking.
—
I don’t know the exact moment I realize I’ve entered an unfamiliar part of Athens.
Above, the sky has darkened to a mauve, and the setting sun casts long shadows across most of the buildings.
Deep in my thoughts, it seems I have made a wrong turn.
I can’t quite discern if it’s my imagination, but this part of the city seems filthier than the others I’ve seen.
There are no women chasing small children or old men playing board games together on stoops.
In fact, it doesn’t seem that anyone lives here; there’s a stillness that leaves me slightly unsettled.
The streets are littered with rubbish, and every so often, I lift the hem of my chiton to avoid trailing it through a foul-smelling puddle.
The farther down the street I walk, the uneasier I feel.
I’m increasingly aware of how out of place I must look in my crisp white acolyte’s chiton.
Suddenly, a warning bell sounds in my head.
This is not safe. You need to leave.
I turn on my heel, making my way back up the street, but just before I reach its end, I stop short.
I didn’t notice the small alley the first time I passed it, and I certainly didn’t notice the young woman sitting near a small door within it.
I look at her now: She is older than me, but not by much.
My guess is that she’s closer to Stheno’s age, perhaps in her early twenties.
Her skin is already fair, but she wears white powder on her face and neck, a pale canvas only interrupted by the bright red of her painted lips and the thick black cosmetic drawn around her eyes.
That isn’t what renders me still, though.
The woman is all but naked.
Technically, I suppose the sheer, shapeless white garment draped over her form could constitute clothes, but it leaves nothing to the imagination.
I have certainly seen unclothed bodies before—every day as acolytes, we change in front of one another without a second thought—but this feels different.
The woman is standing with a well-dressed man who looks to be much older—in his forties, if I had to guess.
His tunic is white, unblemished, and perfectly pressed.
He’s clean-shaven, and his dark hair, shot through with gray at the temples, is neat.
He is clearly someone important, wealthy.
I step back so that I’m out of sight while I watch the two of them speak in low voices.
She murmurs something I cannot hear before holding out her hand, and the man drops a fat purse into it.
I watch, now even more confused. The woman does not seem to mind that this man is seeing her without clothes, and it appears that some sort of transaction has been made, though I didn’t see the woman give the man anything.
She says something else I can’t hear before taking his hand and leading him inside the building behind her. He goes willingly.
I stand at the opening of the alley for several minutes, still.
It’s impossible to say what prompts me, but I find myself moving closer to the door the woman and the man went into.
It’s closed now, but as I approach, I hear sounds.
From the other side of the door, there’s shouting, laughter, and then…
moans. I hear what sounds like a chorus, men and women.
I can’t tell if they’re in some sort of pain or if it’s…
something else. I can’t see what’s going on inside, but I find myself remembering what Theo and I saw the sea king and the nymph doing in my mother’s garden.
The sounds from the other side of that door are very much like the sounds I heard then.
I’m startled by the sudden swoop in my lower stomach, the new hard lump in my throat that makes it hard to swallow.
These sensations are new, strange, and so total that I’m not sure what to do with them.
I back away from the door and leave the alley as quickly as I came, taking care not to look back until I’m farther up the main road.
By now, only a few lingering rays of sunlight are left in the sky, and I swallow a slight panic.
I need to get back to the Acropolis, quickly.
In the dark, I can now see it, rising on the hill in the distance, but not nearly as far away as I imagined.
I could still return before supper without my tardiness being noticed.
I’ve just started in that direction when a voice interrupts the quiet. “Don’t tell me you’re looking for another owl?”
I turn. I’m surprised to see the boy I met on the street in Athens, the one who helped me find Glaukopis. He’s walking toward me now, and I note that he’s carrying a fishing net.
He stops before me and cocks his head. There’s a playfulness in his smile that at once puts me at ease. He is even more handsome than I remember.
“No owls today,” I reply, keeping my tone light. “The priestesses did some work in the city earlier this afternoon. I was just taking a short walk before returning to the Acropolis.”
The boy’s smile fades just slightly. “You should be careful in Athens at night,” he says, his tone serious. “Certain parts of the city aren’t as safe as others.”
I look around the empty street and remember the unsettled feeling I had before. I believe him.
“I’ll walk you back to the Acropolis,” the boy offers.
“That’s generous.”
“It’s friendly.”
I raise a brow. “Are we friends?”
The boy grins, and I feel a jolt like I’ve been struck by lightning. “I’d certainly like us to be.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
The boy waves a dismissive hand. “That’s because it’s common and boring. You’d forget it tomorrow.” His voice softens. “Tell me yours.”
“My name is Meddy.”
“ ‘Meddy.’ ” He says my name like it’s something precious, rare. “Please allow me to escort you back to the Acropolis.”
There’s a warmth to his voice that puts me at ease after the tension of the afternoon.
“All right.”
He nods chivalrously, then falls in step with me as we walk up the road. It’s dark, but the streets feel less sinister now that I’m not alone.
“So, you’re a fisherman.” I point to the net in his hand.
“Something like that.” The boy’s lip quirks, as though he’s thought of something funny. “I’ve always loved being near the sea. There’s something about it…”
“It can be powerful and destructive,” I note. “But it can also be gentle and healing.”
The boy lights up. “That’s exactly it.”
“I’m not from here, but I grew up near the sea.” I’m not sure what compels me to say the words, but they come freely. “I love it, too. It’s another thing I love about Athens.”
“This is the greatest city in all the world,” the boy says. He’s looking up at the sky now, and I see real adoration on his face.
“You’re lucky to call it home, then.”
He looks to me again. “It’s your home, too, now, isn’t it? As an acolyte?”
At once, everything that’s happened today is brought back to the forefront. Some of my levity fades.
“It’s my home for now,” I agree. “But I’m not sure it will be for much longer.”
“Why?” he asks. “What happened?”
I barely know this boy; a part of me realizes that the ease I feel around him is unwarranted.
But when I look into his eyes, I see real concern in them, sincere interest. All I’ve held in breaks like a dam, and then I’m telling him everything.
I tell him about the people I helped today, about the little boy and girl.
I expect him to look disapproving when I tell him what I did to the boy, but to my surprise, he only nods with understanding.
“You know, I’m no priestess,” he says. “But, from my view…I actually think you did the right thing.”
I look up at him. “You do?”
“I do,” he says. “Athena isn’t just a goddess of craft and wisdom. She’s a goddess of war. I’m sure even she understands that sometimes violence is necessary to maintain order.”
I blink. That didn’t occur to me before, and now I wish I’d said as much to Apollonia. I’d started to think maybe she was right, but now I feel vindicated again. Perhaps I did do the right thing.
—
Before I realize it, we reach the entrance to the Acropolis. I’m relieved to see that there are no priestesses near it and that I’ll still be able to slip in, hopefully unnoticed. The boy stops just short of the torchlight and tips his head.
“As promised,” he says. “Safely delivered to the Acropolis.”
“Thank you.”
There’s a long pause in which neither of us speaks. I find myself at a loss for words, unsure of what’s supposed to happen next.
Eventually, the boy smiles. “I hope to see you again, Meddy, gods willing.”
I have no idea how that would even happen, but I still nod. “As do I. Good night.”
He offers a final wave before he turns on his heel and walks back the way he came. My eyes stay trained on him until he’s out of sight.
Thoughts of the boy stay with me as I walk across the Acropolis’s lawn.
In the quiet, I find myself recalling the words he said, remembering the attentive way he looked at me as I spoke.
Back on my island, Theo always listened to me, my sisters tried to make me feel that the things I had to say were important, but this…
this feels different. Every time I remember the way the boy grinned, there’s a fluttering in my chest, and I catch myself wanting to smile or laugh.
I find myself hoping that I do see him again, somewhere, somehow.
I’m still thinking of him when I enter the acolytes’ quarters and discover that they’re not empty.
Apollonia is sitting on her pallet, brushing her hair.
She looks up as though she’s been waiting for me.
“I’m glad you made it back,” she says. “I worried.” The words are kind but too formal.
The fluttering in my chest vanishes, replaced by the same heaviness I felt when Apollonia walked away before.
For a moment, I think of repeating what the boy said, pointing out that my actions had actually been valid ones.
Something stops me. It dawns on me that Apollonia is my only true friend in the Acropolis.
Even if she and I disagree, I don’t want to lose that. Different words leave my mouth.
“I’m sorry.” I don’t bother with any sort of preamble. “I’m sorry for upsetting you.”
Apollonia shakes her head. “You didn’t upset me, Meddy,” she says. “You…surprised me. I’ve never seen you like that before.”
The truth is, I surprised myself, too. My anger always sat coiled within me like a snake, waiting. The only other time I acted on it, a prince ended up dead.
I swallow, then force myself to speak. “I’ve never told you about my family,” I say quietly. “My father…he doesn’t treat my mother well. He never has. Sometimes, he hurts her.”
Apollonia pales.
“The things I’ve seen him do to her make me want to…” I choke on the words. I can’t say them. “I hate people who hurt others, Apollonia.”
Apollonia looks up at me. “Is that why you put the snake in Kallisto’s bed?”
I jolt. I didn’t realize she knew.
“I hate people like that, too, Meddy.” Apollonia’s voice is soft. She sounds tired. “But going after them, trying to avenge every wrong…that kind of hate can consume a person, you know. That kind of hate doesn’t avenge; it just destroys.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Apollonia squeezes my shoulder, then leaves me in the quarters alone.