Chapter XXIV
XXIV
In the days following my initiation into priestesshood, little about my life in Athens changes.
Some of that is by design. Though the other priestesses tell me I’m not required to do the labor of an acolyte anymore, I find comfort in the routine of rising early and beginning my day by cleaning.
I’m told that, technically, I may now share quarters with the priestesses—I don’t have to stay in the now-empty acolytes’ quarters—but the truth is the idea of sleeping anywhere else in the Acropolis feels stranger than sleeping in that room alone.
For the next several days, I work to find a new rhythm.
I resume some of my old duties—sweeping the temple’s floors, making sure the oil lamps stay filled—but I also investigate new interests.
I learn that some priestesses assist with the temple’s recordkeeping, a task that involves dealing with copious numbers of scrolls.
It is a job most of the priestesses actively avoid, but I can think of no better one.
In the mornings, I still clean and do simple chores, but in the afternoons I find quiet places to pore over centuries of old temple records.
Sometimes, with a pang, I still think of Theo and wish he were here to see all this.
—
Six days after my initiation, Eupraxia asks me to go with a group of priestesses into Athens to deliver more food to those in need.
Admittedly, the prospect makes me nervous—I haven’t been back in Athens proper since the night of Panathenaia—but I also relish the opportunity to prove that I am a fully fledged and capable priestess.
As before, there is a crowd of people already waiting when the other priestesses and I arrive, but I school my face to look calm and assured as they crowd in and become rowdy.
“Please form an orderly line,” I instruct. “Everyone will be served.”
Once the other priestesses and I have set up our stations, we begin distributing food.
The first person to approach me is a haggard young woman who looks only a few years older than me.
She has a small girl in tow who has to be a relative of hers—they share the same fair, freckly skin and dirty-blond hair.
I also notice that they’re both hazardously thin and that the girl is paler than she should be for late summer.
“Excuse me,” says the woman. “Are you Medusa?”
I start, surprised she knows my name. “Yes,” I say cautiously. “That’s me.”
“You’re an acolyte?” she asks.
I stand a bit taller. “I’m a priestess now.” The words still thrill me.
The woman stands up straighter. “I’ve heard about you,” she says. “The charioteer from the Panathenaia games, Kallinikos, says that you were the one who blessed him before he won his race.”
I shake my head. “He’s kind, but that wasn’t—”
The woman nudges the little girl with her forward. At once, the child begins to cough. It’s a dry, harsh sound. I flinch.
“My daughter has been sick for two weeks. Now she coughs up blood,” the woman says quickly.
I feel a sharp pang of pity. “I’m sorry,” I say slowly, “but I’m no healer. I can’t—”
“I can’t afford a healer,” the woman goes on. There’s a new edge of desperation in her voice. “What I ask is for your blessing.”
I start. “My…blessing?”
The woman nods. “Pray to the Goddess on my behalf. Tell her that my girl is devout, and ask that she restore my daughter to good health. You are her favored priestess. She will listen to your prayer.”
The little girl coughs again, this time so hard her eyes water. I make a decision in that moment. I may not be able to save this child’s life, but it costs me little to offer her mother hope. I kneel before the girl and take one of her small hands in mine. I place my other hand on her chest.
“Do you pray to the gods before you sleep each night?” I ask softly.
The little girl nods, then is racked by another bout of coughs.
“Pray with me now,” I instruct. “Bow your head.”
She obeys, and her mother does, too. A few people are watching us, but I ignore them as I also bow my head and close my eyes. I have no idea if Athena is listening, if this will work, but I still try.
If you can hear me, Athena, save this child, I ask. Protect her, heal her, and put food in her and her mother’s bellies. Relieve their suffering, if only for a little while.
When I open my eyes, more people are watching us, including some of the priestesses.
I stand and put my hand on the woman’s shoulder.
“I’ve prayed to the Goddess, but there’s something else you can also try,” I add in a lower voice.
“Find a laurel plant and take some leaves from it. Steep them in hot water, then have your daughter drink it three times a day. It may help.” It’s a remedy I learned from Theo, many years ago.
I’m unsure of its efficacy, but it’s something.
“Thank you.” The woman falls to her knees. When she looks up at me, tears streak her face. She brings the hem of my dress to her face and kisses it. I’m rendered momentarily speechless, equal parts humbled and intimidated. “Thank you, Priestess Medusa.”
“Be well.” It’s all I can manage.
The woman accepts a sack of food, stands, and steps away with her daughter. I move on to the next in line, but their faces stay with me for the rest of the afternoon.
—
The priestesses and I return to the Acropolis a short while later.
I notice the shift on our walk back from Athens and ignore it at first, but it becomes more pronounced once we’ve returned to the temple.
I can’t explain it, but the other priestesses have changed somehow.
Before, they looked at me fondly—I had been getting to know them better little by little, hoping to find a friend like Apollonia among them; now they seem to regard me with an unmistakable wariness in their gazes.
I can only assume it has to do with what happened in the city, though I don’t understand why.
Normally, after supper, I might sit with them in the gardens, but when night falls and I still feel their coolness, I take advantage of the freedom my new priestesshood allows and decide to go for a walk on the beach instead.
The walk takes me close to an hour, but as soon as I’ve reached Athens’s shoreline, I feel better.
By this hour, the sun has dipped below the horizon, and the city is hushed save for a few soldiers patrolling the streets.
I find a spot on the beach and settle there, not minding the tide lapping at my toes.
I sigh. Being here reminds me of being on my island, and suddenly homesickness overtakes me in a rush.
I miss Stheno and Euryale, but I especially miss Theo.
I’m haunted by the last time we spoke, by the look I saw on his face afterward.
When I can’t take the ache of it any longer, I bury my toes in the beach’s sand and force myself not to think of him.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t realize I’m no longer alone until a familiar voice interrupts the quiet.
“It’s good to see you, Medusa.”
I look up, and my gaze locks with that of the king of the sea. For several seconds, I can only stare at him, and he laughs. There is something utterly consuming about his presence that I find I can’t resist.
“You’re pretty when you’re startled.” His smile lingers.
“I’m sorry, I…” I search for the right words. “I just didn’t expect to see you.”
Poseidon laughs softly. “I did say that you could always find me by the city’s shores.”
I remember that he did, and now some part of me wonders if that was the thing that brought me here, subconsciously.
Poseidon settles beside me, and I find it hard to keep still.
Power seems to emanate from his very being, and once again, I am struck by the fact that he could be in so many places, with so many more important people, yet he has chosen to be here, with me.
“It seems Athena shared the news of your priestesshood with your father,” says Poseidon, staring out to sea.
I sigh. “Which can only mean every god in the Sea Court now knows about it.”
Poseidon laughs. “In the Sea Court and beyond, I’m afraid. He’s very proud of you.”
“He’s proud of the accomplishment,” I clarify.
Poseidon turns to me. “I’m proud of you,” he says more gently. “Congratulations. To be selected as an acolyte of the Acropolis is no small feat. Being chosen as a priestess is greater still.”
The compliment warms me. “Thank you.”
For several minutes, he and I sit there side by side, listening to the ocean’s waves. I want to enjoy this moment. I want to be flattered that the sea king himself has come to congratulate me, is proud of me, but other thoughts still swirl in my mind.
“You seem troubled,” Poseidon says.
“Is it obvious?”
“Only because I’ve spent a lot of time with mortals.” Poseidon nods. “What troubles you?”
“I’m not sure you’d understand.”
“Tell me anyway,” he encourages. “You might be surprised.”
I hesitate, then the words spill from me. “It’s the other priestesses. I think…they’re upset with me.”
“Upset?” Poseidon raises a brow. “But you’re one of them now. You were only recently initiated.”
“Yes, but…” In a rush, I tell him what happened earlier in the day. I tell him about the woman and her daughter, the blessing, and the way the priestesses treated me after.
When I finish, Poseidon shakes his head. “You should never feel bad for helping those with less than you,” he says. “And if that’s why the other priestesses are upset, then they are fools.”
“Thank you, my king.”
“Poseidon,” he insists.
“Thank you, Poseidon.”
The sea god smiles again, and this time the corners of his eyes crinkle. “You look truly beautiful tonight.”
My heart skips. The truth is, I’ve thought—more than once—about the kiss he and I shared on the night of Panathenaia, and then about our encounter in my family home. More than once, I’ve wondered what might have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” says Poseidon.
“I’m thinking…” I try and fail to find the right words.
The truth is, I’m still thinking about the way that kiss felt.
I’m thinking about his hands, the press of them on my hips.
I’m thinking about the want, how intense that want was that night back on the island.
But…I’m also thinking about my vows, about Athena.
“When I lived on the island, the only thing I wanted was to leave,” I say slowly.
“I thought I would never want something as badly as that ever again. But now…” I stare at my hands.
“Now I think I was wrong. It turns out you can want lots of things, and you can want them equally. Sometimes I wish that I didn’t have to choose. ”
In the dark, Poseidon’s green eyes seem brighter than usual. He leans in, and I know I should pull away from him, but I don’t. He presses his forehead against mine, and my breath stops.
“I think,” he murmurs, “you should have whatever you want.”
I don’t know who moves first, but our lips meet, and I find that his are just as I remembered.
His hands find my knee, and I relish the way his calloused palms feel against my skin.
He kisses me more deeply, and a thrum vibrates through my body.
I want him. I realize this with vivid clarity. I want Poseidon, I want this.
He seems to feel the same, because he gently pulls me to the sand, so that we’re lying side by side. Detached, I think about the sand in my locs, but I can’t bring myself to care much. Pulling back for a moment, Poseidon grazes his knuckles gently against my cheek and gazes into my eyes.
“I’ve never felt like this,” he whispers. “No one has ever made me feel like this.”
Kissing Poseidon was wonderful, but nothing rivals the feeling coursing through me now.
He is an Olympian, the sea king, one of the most powerful gods on earth, but I have some effect on him that no one else ever has.
He looks at me, and I’m convinced that nothing in all the world has ever been more beautiful than he.
I could lie here beside him for an eternity, I realize, and not even notice the passing time.
“It’s late,” Poseidon says. “I should walk you back to the temple.”
I can’t deny the fleeting disappointment his words summon, but I know he’s right. He rises first, then helps me up and brushes the sand from my back.
“You’re going to change the world, Medusa,” the sea king says, offering his hand. “Of that I’m absolutely certain.”
I don’t agree with him in the slightest, but I still take his hand. Together, we walk up the dunes and into the night.