They continued to peel off the rest of their armor. Underneath they wore a simple brown tunic. “We can’t stay here long. Nicolau upstairs is one of us, but the guards will be searching the city, especially this close to the sanctuary.”
From the shadows, Manto rolled out a large amphora, stuck their arm inside and tugged out a bundle of black fabric followed by a bag.
They proffered Danae what appeared to be a long black dress, then stripped off their tunic and shoved on a matching black robe of their own. Then they pulled out a knife.
Something inside Danae snapped. She was tired of running, tired of being afraid, tired of not knowing what was happening to her.
“Stop!” She balled the fabric in her fists. “You promised me answers, now tell me what in Tartarus is going on?”
Manto stared at her for a moment, then bobbed their head like a servant would to their master.
“Of course, sorry. I need to cut your hair so we can both disguise ourselves as seers.”
Danae eyed the knife with alarm. “You want to dowhatto my hair?”
“You’ll be less recognizable. Seers often come to Delphi, so it will allow us to move freely.” Manto’s mouth curled into another crooked smile as they held up the knife.
Danae chewed her lip.
“All right.”
Manto set to work, clumps of thick brown hair falling around Danae like leaves blown from a tree. When they were finished, she tentatively lifted her hands to her head and explored her crop. The nape of her neck felt strangely cold. She’d never been particularly fond of her hair. Her mother always told her it was difficult and unsightly, but it had been hers. The further she traveled from Naxos, the more she felt herself crumbling away, like the stones of the sea-buried temple eroded by the tide.
“Put the dress on,” Manto prompted.
Danae self-consciously slipped out of her tattered tunic and squirmed into the dress. It tied at the waist and under her breasts like the robes of the priestesses of Athena. It wasn’t as soft as the novice’s cloak but compared to her old tunic it felt like silk.
She stared down at the midnight fabric and was suddenly uneasy, but was quickly distracted by Lithos trotting over from his nest of blankets to sniff her discarded hair.
She eyed the dog warily.
“He won’t bite.” Manto scratched the coarse fur behind his ear. “Well, he won’t bite you.” They moved toward the trap door. “We can’t stay here. We need to get to the safe house before nightfall. Then I promise I’ll tell you everything.”
Manto jumped and pushed back the door with a muffled clunk. The sudden gust of air blew out the candle. They lifted Lithos up, then turned to Danae.
“I just want to say...it’s an honor.”
Danae’s brow creased, but Manto had already hauled themselves through the trapdoor.
Manto was right. No one paid either of them much attention as they navigated the streets of Delphi in their obsidian robes. It was an unspoken rule that only seers wore black. Danae tried not to think about what the penalty would be if they were caught in the disguise. That would be the least of her problems if the guards of Apollo found her.
As the incline of the city rose, the buildings grew shabbier. She twitched whenever she heard a clink, expecting soldiers to burst around every corner.
“No one will bother you here,” Manto whispered. “Unless you’ve got something worth stealing.”
By the time they’d climbed high enough to leave the stone buildings behind, night had crept over the city. Below them, Delphi sprawled down the slope of Mount Parnassus, a mass of painted roofs, colored awnings and twinkling brazier lights. Above them was the gymnasium.
A ramshackle collection of wooden buildings clustered around the base of the stadium’s seating. They walked past the dwellings until they came to one with old sacking pulled across the windows. Candlelight glowed from within. A couple of people came and went, hoods dipped low over their faces. Two women sat on barrels outside, their chests bare, dresses pooled around their waists. Lithos ran up to one of them. The woman bent down and fussed over him, scratching the fur behind his ears.
“Busy tonight, Hetaria?” Manto called.
Hetaria sighed. “Same as ever. Be better if there was a war on.”
“Like a general, do you?”
“I like what they pay.” Hetaria swept her heavily kohl-rimmed eyes over Danae. “What’s wrong with this one? Never seen a pair of tits before?”
Danae flushed.
