The two Maenads led Danae through the grove to an older woman who sat with a brood of infants on the steps of the house.
“Ariadne,” called the first Maenad. “This is...” She looked at Danae.
“Danae.”
Ariadne stood slowly and gently shooed the children away. Her skin was the color of fresh cream, her gray hair so long it fell past the silver stretch marks on her abdomen. She walked forward and drew Danae into a tight embrace.
Danae stiffened at the proximity of this stranger’s naked body to her own. Drawing away, she said, “My sister was taken from the Thesmophoria. Your...” She looked at the younger Maenad.
“Oenone,” prompted Ariadne.
“Oenone, said you might know what happened to her.”
Ariadne’s pale eyes darted to Oenone then back to Danae. “I cannot say for sure. I can only tell you the warning I was given by my husband.”
“You’re married?”
The stories she’d heard told that the Maenads were an all-female community who didn’t interact with anyone outside their sect. Looking around, Danae could see no men anywhere in the grove.
Ariadne smiled. “I am the wife of our lord, Dionysus.”
“You’re married to one of theTwelve?”
Ariadne’s lips twitched at the incredulity in her tone.
“The gods of Olympus have taken mortal lovers since the dawn of mankind. Is it so strange that our two souls wish to live in union for the time I have upon this earth?”
Danae didn’t know what to say. She rubbed her face and tried to focus. “What was the warning? Tell me.”
Ariadne took Danae’s hands in hers. Her skin was soft and wrinkled like an overripe peach.
“My husband warned us that a creature would come to our island. An unseen beast with scarlet eyes that hunts mortals. He called it a shade, and its victims, I believe, you call the Missing.”
Danae felt the cold breath of fear on her neck. She’d seen it. Twice.
“But the Missing never come back. The shade can’t have taken my sister because she was returned to us. It must have been a man because...she’s pregnant...” Her words dissolved at the pained expression on Ariadne’s face.
Her lips parted, but she couldn’t ask the question, could not voice the horror that had just taken root in her mind.
Ariadne put her arms around Danae, and she crumpled, sobbing as though crying out all the pain would undo what had happened to Alea.
Eventually her heaving shoulders stilled. She pushed Ariadne away, raw and embarrassed.
“I am sorry,” Ariadne said softly. “We do not know for sure that it was the shade who took her, but even so, what happened to your sister is an evil crime. I am glad at least, that she has you. I wish, in my time of need, I’d had my sister.”
There was an ache in Ariadne’s words, a river of understanding that Danae had unknowingly touched. She wiped her face. “What happened?”
Ariadne loosed a small sigh. “I was a foolish girl who betrayed her family for a prince and an empty promise of marriage. He took what he wanted and left me here to die. He is King of Athens now, I believe.” Her face softened. “But it has been decades since my Dionysus found me and look,” she gazed at the grove. “Time is kind. It may bring pains to the body, but it heals those of the heart.”
A headache was beginning to pulse behind Danae’s eyes.
“What happens to the Missing? Did your husband tell you?”
Ariadne shook her head. “He only said that once someone has been taken by a shade, they are as good as dead. He would speak no more on the matter.”
“Why didn’t you make him tell you?”
Ariadne laughed. “My husband is a god, child. A benevolent one, but a god nonetheless. He cannot be made to do anything.”
