Chapter 47 - The Scent
Athena didn't move for several seconds after the little girl ran off.
Her eyes stayed fixed on the place where the child had been standing.
"She smells like us."
The words echoed in her head louder than they should have.
She slowly turned to Silas.
"What did she mean by that?"
Silas didn't answer right away.
He watched the children disappear around the corner of the courtyard before looking back at her.
"In our kind," he said carefully, "scent is more reliable than sight. More honest than words."
Athena frowned slightly. "Scent?"
"Yes. We recognize one another by it. Instinctively. Without thought."
She swallowed.
"You mean like animals do?"
Silas didn't react to the word.
"Yes."
Her heart began to beat harder.
"So she..." Athena hesitated. "...she wasn't guessing?"
"No."
Athena stared at him.
"She just knew?"
"Yes."
Her breathing grew uneven.
She glanced down at herself like she might be able to see whatever the child had sensed.
"That doesn't make sense," she whispered.
Silas's voice softened.
"It makes perfect sense."
Athena's mind raced.
"She didn't even hesitate," she said. "She looked at me like it was obvious."
Silas stepped slightly closer.
"To her, it was."
Athena's throat tightened.
"A child recognized something in me before I did."
Silas didn't deny it.
Tears stung her eyes again, but this time they weren't from confusion.
They were from the slow, overwhelming realization that everything she was being told... was aligning in ways she couldn't argue with anymore.
"Why can they smell it if I can't feel it?" she asked.
"Because your mind was taught to forget," Silas said quietly. "But your body was not."
Her chest ached.
She looked up at him, eyes wide and vulnerable.
"What do I smell like?"
Silas held her gaze.
"You do not smell human to them."