The earth bloomed. Petals fell to make way for ripening fruit, and the sun began its descent in the sky, arcing lower with each passing day. As the glaring brightness of summer melted into the deep reds, yellows and browns of autumn, Alea regained her strength. Slowly, color returned to her cheeks, and the hollow caverns of her body filled and softened. Danae could not say which day it was, only that one morning she looked at her sister and realized the fear that woke her each dawn was gone. Alea would not leave them for the Underworld, not yet.
“You promised me, as soon as he was old enough, you would take him to the temple.” Arius gurgled happily and grasped a fistful of Alea’s hair. She winced and attempted to free the captured strands. “It’s been six months!”
“Exactly,onlysix months.” Danae pummeled a lump of dough with her fists. Her promise had been made in a moment of sleep-deprived weakness and she had hoped Alea would forget about it.
“Why don’t you want to take him?”
Danae reached into a pot of flour and dusted the table. “I’ve told you before, after what the Maenad Ariadne told me, I think we should stay away from the temple.” She glanced into the yard, where her mother was sweeping out the old goat pen. She could have done with Eleni’s support.
“You’re not still worried about the shade? Danae, that was months ago, surely it will have gone away by now.”
Scarlet eyes peering through the hut window were seared across her memory. She opened her mouth to speak, but fear stilled her tongue.
“The timing is perfect,” continued Alea. “You can take our offerings for the Thesmophoria and bring Arius to receive Demeter’s blessing.”
She sighed. “Alea, please—”
“Don’t you love your nephew? Don’t you want to protect him from Hera’s wrath?”
“Shh,” Danae hissed.
Alea set her jaw. “His father will surely come to visit him soon, which will reveal everything. If he is under Demeter’s protection,she—” Alea glanced skyward “—is less likely to harm him.”
“He’s safe here, at home. Gods know what might happen to him out there.” Danae flung flour across the room as she gestured. “You’ve not been out of this hut. You don’t know what it’s been like for me and Ma—”
“At least I’m not starting fights!”
“I was defending you!”
“Enough!” Their mother stepped through the doorway. “I am sick to the back teeth of this endless bickering.” She turned to Alea. “You must calm yourself—it’s not good for you.”
Danae poured her frustration into the dough and hurled it onto the table with a vigorous slap.
Her mother took Arius from her sister. “You should rest.”
“I’m fine.”
They all knew that was a lie. As she looked at her sister, Danae felt a stab of guilt. Though stronger than she was in the first weeks, Alea hadn’t been the same since the birth. She tired easily and barely had any strength. Arguing like they were would cost her.
Danae sighed. “I’ll take him tomorrow with the offerings and entreat Demeter to bless him.”
She half expected her mother to tell her that she would do no such thing, but Eleni nodded sagely.
“It is only right, Demeter returned Alea to us after all.”
Her sister’s pale face lit up. She smiled at her mother then looked to Danae.
“Thank you.”
Alea’s fears might be placated. But taking Arius away from the safety of the hut meant facing her own.
The sky was a deep hyacinth blush, but the chill of night still lingered in the air. Danae was glad. The summer heat had remained longer this year, and when the sun crested the horizon, it wouldn’t be long before the earth was baking.
She pushed open the yard gate. Arius was strapped to her chest, a full bag of cheeses and a loaf of bread slung over her shoulder. There was at least a week’s worth of food in her pack, far less than her family had offered at the previous year’s Thesmophoria, but still more than they could spare. She ground the resentment between her teeth.
By the time they reached the tree-lined path that led through the valley, a hazy heat had settled over the land. Danae tugged the cloth of Arius’s swaddling over his head, shading him from the sun’s glare. They would most likely have to shelter in the temple for the hottest part of the day before returning home. She sighed at the thought of spending hours trapped under the scrutiny of the priestesses.
She tugged the waterskin from her bag, took a large gulp, then stowed it away again. Arius’s lip trembled. She placed her little finger in his mouth, stretched her face wide, then puckered it tight. He laughed, and his effervescent chuckle banished her irritable mood. But at the removal of her hand, his little face contorted, and a wail erupted from his mouth.
