Chapter XXI
XXI
Athena keeps her word.
For the rest of the day, I set to work performing my standard tasks as an acolyte alongside Kallisto and Amersa.
If either of them questions where Eupraxia took me after my altercation with Kallisto, they’ve been instructed not to ask or are too afraid to.
Kallisto, for her part, shoots dirty looks at me every chance she gets, but their effect is slightly muted by the swollen lip she now sports because of me.
It should feel vindicating, but the truth is, everywhere I look in the temple, I see reminders of Apollonia.
By the time I reach the acolytes’ quarters, her bed pallet has been rolled up and taken away, but that only leaves a conspicuous space where it used to be.
I keep imagining her face, remembering how she cried as the priestesses took her away.
It bothers me that I don’t have any idea where she is now.
I wouldn’t even know where to start looking for her.
The next morning, when Eupraxia tells me I’m going home, a part of me is less sorry for it.
—
Just as he took me to Athens, it’s Hermes whom I find at the base of the Acropolis’s hill waiting to take me home.
Our journey back to my island is just as smooth as the one before—which is to say, not at all smooth for me—but all that’s forgotten as we fly across ocean waves and the island comes into view.
Tears well in my eyes as I glimpse the first hints of its golden shore, the familiar trees that make up its tiny jungle.
I’ve missed home more than I thought.
Hermes bids me farewell with a quick wave before he departs again, and I make my way up the crooked stone path that leads to the palace.
It has been just over a month since I left home, but already I feel as though it has changed.
The sand is hotter and grittier on the soles of my feet than I remember, the gulls overhead are louder.
I’m struck by the realization that maybe it isn’t this place that has changed, but me.
Once I’m inside, I walk the palace hoping to find Stheno or Euryale; my heart plummets when I enter the great hall and find my father instead.
Today, he’s sitting on one of the carved driftwood thrones he has ordered his slaves to make for him.
I wonder if he is pretending he is still a powerful god, still a foreboding high lord of the sea.
His dark eyes land on me as I enter the room.
I can read nothing in his face, and it occurs to me that I’ve forgotten how stoic he can be.
“Athena kept her word.” His voice is neutral, and I’m relieved not to hear any anger in it as he looks me over. “You’ve returned.”
“Yes, Father.” I start to bow just as I would at the temple when speaking to a senior priestess, then realize what I’m doing and stop.
My father appears to be waiting for me to do something or…say something. “Well?” he urges, crossing his arms. “What news have you to report?”
Of course. If I believed, even for a second, that my father had asked Athena to send me home because he missed me, this is a timely reminder of how foolish that assumption was.
My father cares nothing for me or for my actual well-being.
His sole interest in me is as it has always been: directly tied to what I can do for him.
My personal achievements are to his political benefit. I remember that as I give my report.
“I am progressing well at the temple.” I keep my head bowed, my voice low. “Already, I’ve passed two of the three prerequisite tests to become a priestess. I do honorable work as an acolyte, serving the people of Athens—”
“I don’t care about that nonsense.” My father waves a dismissive hand. “What of Athena? Have you spoken with her?”
“Yes,” I say quickly. “She has taken an interest in my progress and checked on my welfare several times.”
My father nods. “That’s good, you have her ear. And what do you tell her of the Sea Court?”
I falter. “I…I haven’t talked with Athena about the Sea Court.”
At once, my father’s expression turns stormy. “Do you mean to tell me that you have spent your entire time in Athens playing foolish mortal games? You did not think even once to use your proximity to Athena to the Sea Court’s advantage?”
My reply comes out in a small voice. “You…you never asked me to.”
My father’s lip curls. “You’re more useless than I thought,” he says in a low voice.
“I knew you’d be no good for marriage alliances, but I believed you could be of some use to me if you had the attention of one of the more powerful Olympians.
” He looks at me now the way one might look at a beetle underfoot. “I see I was mistaken.”
My legs start to tremble, and I resent that I can’t hide how much he frightens me. For the last few weeks in Athens, I have felt smart, strong, capable.
In a matter of seconds, my father has made me small again.
“If you are not clever enough to use this opportunity,” he says, “I see no reason why you should continue to stay in Athens.” He twists a golden ring on his finger. “Perhaps it would be better for you to remain here.”
“No! Please, Father!” I fall to my knees, hating how small my voice sounds. “Please, I will work harder. I will speak to Athena about the Sea Court. I have not yet, but…” I scramble for words and then think of something. “But I have spoken to the sea king.”
“The sea king?” My father’s expression changes instantly. “You have had an audience with Poseidon?”
I nod, standing. “More than once. He knows I’m your daughter, and he knows I’m in Athens. He has watched over me, too. He…he says you impress him a great deal.” At best, this is an egregious stretch of the truth; at worst, it’s a naked lie.
My father doesn’t seem to notice, though. He’s stroking his beard and now looks thoughtful. “Good.” He sounds more like he’s talking to himself than to me. “That is…good.”
“I know I could curry more favor with the sea king, if I had more time in Athens,” I add quickly. “Please, Father.”
It’s almost as though he’s forgotten I’m there. A faraway look has entered my father’s eyes, and I wonder if he’s imagining himself on Mount Olympus now, finally accepted by the Olympians. I wait patiently for him to look my way again.
“Very well.” He sounds like a god, rich tones and a rich timbre to his voice. “You may continue to stay in Athens, for now.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“Go.”
I nod in thanks, then leave the hall before he can change his mind.
I don’t find my sisters inside, so I make my way out to the island’s shoreline.
Like the rest of the island, nothing is markedly different here as I walk along the beach, and yet it feels different, less peaceful.
The waves still crash against the breakers farther out, but for the first time, something strikes me as violent about them.
That violence makes me think of my father.
When I stood in his presence, I was frightened; now, safely away from him, I realize that the feeling that remains is anger.
Anger because I’ve worked so hard in Athens to prove myself and he didn’t even acknowledge it; anger because I’ve managed to do more to elevate our family’s so-called status in seventeen measly years than he ever has, and he can’t even thank me for it.
Anger because I’ll never know what I did to deserve a father like him.
I say none of this aloud as I continue my walk along the coast, past clusters of palm trees and several shallow tide pools. I’m heading toward a small grouping of rocks I sometimes like to climb atop to get a better view of the island. I’m surprised at what I find when I reach it.
Someone is already there, perfectly still atop one of the rocks. At first, I think of Stheno or Euryale, then I realize with a start that I’m wrong. It’s someone else.
“Mama?”
My mother is sitting with her knees pulled to her chest. Waves spray her face, soaking her dark, kinky hair, but she doesn’t so much as turn when I call for her. Her lips are moving, but I can’t hear any words. A sinking feeling settles in my chest as I draw closer.
“Mama!” I call to her again as I stumble across the dunes. “Mama, I’m back. I’m home. What’s going—?”
I freeze, because now I see what has captured my mother’s attention so entirely.
The creature at the base of the rocks is enormous, the size of a small whale.
Most of its body is below the water’s surface, but I can still discern a long pink head, tentacles, and one yellow eye larger than my whole body.
As I draw near, a wet sucking sound emits from it, followed by a series of sharp, eerie clicks.
The sound makes my skin crawl, and only one word comes to my mind as I stop to stand beside my mother.
Monster.
“Mama,” I say more quietly. “What is that?”
My mother still doesn’t look up at me. “One of my pets,” she says quietly. “She visits sometimes, but our time together is always limited. Always brief.”
As though the creature understands my mother, it blinks, then sinks below the ocean depths and out of sight. I’m further unnerved by the fact that the water had barely rippled with the monster’s departure. For several seconds, I stare at the place where it disappeared. “What is…she called?”
My mother shrugs. “Men have given her any number of names in their native tongues. I’ve never thought to ask which ones she prefers.”
“Mama.” I don’t like the way this feels, as if our roles were reversed and I am the parent. I crouch beside her. “You should go inside. Your clothes are soaked.”
“It doesn’t matter,” my mother murmurs. “I cannot leave this island. I can never see my children.”
“I’m back, for a little while,” I point out, trying to inject a cheer into my voice that I certainly don’t feel. “And Stheno and Euryale are still here. I know they—”
“Not you three.” My mother is staring out into the waves. “I’m talking about my other children.”