Danae slumped down against the wall of the hut, underneath the goats’ awning. She pulled the blanket over her legs. Pilops came trotting over and nuzzled her. She pressed her face into the goat’s musty fur and groaned.
In the silence, the terror she had repressed since the Maenad’s camp stirred.
If it was a shade that took her sister, what was the thing now growing inside Alea?
Danae woke to the creak of the yard gate. Her body ached from a fitful night tossing and turning on the hard earth. She had barely slept, her mind a roaring torrent, each thought more terrible than the next. Yawning, she stretched her limbs and looked over to see her father staring at her. His eyes were rimmed with shadows. The blanket slid to the ground as she scrambled to her feet.
“Pa, I’m sorry...” she began, but her father turned away without a word and disappeared into the hut.
She sank back down and pulled the blanket back over her legs. A moment later, she sat up again as her father reemerged with fishing nets slung over his shoulder. Hope fluttered in her chest, then sank. He didn’t look at her as he crossed the yard and took the path down to the sea. She cradled her head in her hands, guilt gnawing at her insides.
Hearing the door again, she glanced up. Alea walked toward the goat pen, a cup of water in her hand. Her sister let herself into the enclosure and sat down beside her. Danae took the cup and drained it in a few gulps.
“Thanks.” She wiped her mouth, and her eyes drifted to Alea’s stomach. Her throat tightened.
“You might be sleeping out here for a few more nights.” Alea took the cup, then began to pick at the knotted rope around Danae’s wrists. “Ma’s still furious.”
Danae forced herself to smile. “That’s all right, I sleep better out here anyway. The goats don’t snore.”
Her sister rolled her eyes, as the rope fell loose in her hands.
Danae rubbed her wrists. “Alea, if it was this shade creature that took you—” she glanced again at her sister’s stomach “—I don’t want to frighten you, but...the baby might not be human.”
Alea held her gaze and said calmly, “You’re right.”
Danae saw Alea’s secret rise, until it floated just below the surface. She didn’t dare speak, afraid to send it scampering back to the depths.
“I should have told you before. But I was afraid you wouldn’t understand...” Alea hesitated. “I know who my child’s father is.”
Danae’s mouth went dry.
“At one point, I woke...and I saw his face.”
She felt sick. Alea had known all this time.
“Is it the shade?” she asked flatly.
A prickle of unease crept up her spine at the smile spreading across her sister’s face.
“It’s Zeus.”
5
Blood and Bark
Everyone had heard the tales of mortals being impregnated by the gods, and the heroes their demigod children went on to become. But that was something that happened to people far away, not on their island. Not to the daughters of fishermen.
“Danae?”
The world came back into focus. Alea was watching her, waiting.
“That’s...it’s...”
“Wonderful.” Her sister placed her hand over her stomach. At the expression on Danae’s face she said, “I know, I was scared at first too. I couldn’t remember anything and I thought I had lost my mind. Then one night it came back to me. An eagle flew through my dreams, and when I woke, I could recall Zeus’s face. I can feel it, Danae, the divine spark growing inside me. Do you see now, all the hardship, all the pain will be worth it.” She beamed. “Can you believe it? The King of Heaven chose me.”
Pity choked Danae’s heart. “Alea, I don’t blame you for wanting to turn what happened into something—”
Her sister reached forward and gripped Danae’s hands. “This is why I didn’t tell you, I knew you would find it hard to believe, but you must trust me.” She placed Danae’s hands on her stomach. “I can feel the seed of Zeus inside me. And remember the day the villagers attacked us? An eagle came to save us. Don’t you see? The King of Heaven was protecting his child.” A thread of silver leaked from her gleaming eyes.
