“Not the best pair in the city,” Manto replied.
Hetaria’s shoulders twitched with pride and she fought back a smile. “Flattery will get you nowhere, now piss off before you scare away my customers.”
So much for Delphi being the center of religious piety.
“Do the officials know about this place?” asked Danae.
Manto laughed. “Oh, they know. They don’t do anything because it’s good for business. Pilgrims got to have something to do while they’re waiting to see the oracle. The officials take their cut, of course. Lithos, come!”
Lithos scampered away from a drunk man who was attempting to feed the dog from his cup. They continued through one of the arched entrance passages onto the gymnasium’s arena. Up close, Danae could see the structure had been left to seed. Moss had grown in between the slabs and several of the bricks were crumbling.
“Almost there.” Manto bounded across the dusty ground to a metal grate set into the middle of the first three rows of seating. With a grunt, they heaved it open to reveal a passageway chiseled into the stone.
Her heart sank, she was going back underground.
Manto tapped the stone. “This was made back when they used to do lion baiting. Had to keep the animals somewhere before the show. Now it’s where the forgotten people go. The dark underbelly of the holy city. Welcome to the safe house.”
The hollow beneath the gymnasium seating was surprisingly spacious. Once Danae and Manto were through the rock passage, the walls widened into a large cavern of packed earth. They were greeted by around thirty faces, illuminated by a central campfire. A hole had been carved in the ceiling to let the smoke escape, but the room was still stiflingly smoggy. The sharp tang of bodies caught in Danae’s throat, and she coughed.
“You’ll get used to the smell,” said Manto.
A small boy of about eight ran over and flung his arms around Manto’s waist. He only had one hand.
“I’m hungry!”
“Didn’t you get anything today?”
The boy shook his head sorrowfully.
“That’s not true!” said a girl of roughly the same age as she scurried up behind him. “A pilgrim gave him an apple, I saw.”
Manto smirked, produced a couple of biscuits and proffered them to the children. The pair grinned, snatched the victuals and ran back to the warmth of the campfire.
Danae’s eyes were drawn to a girl even younger than the first two children. She wore a coarse tunic of old sacking, and a man was feeding her broth from a rough wooden bowl. There were two raw stumps where her hands should have been.
Manto caught her gaze. “Penalty for thieving.”
A lump swelled in Danae’s throat. “Who are they?”
“Pilgrims who’ve slipped through the cracks, orphans, desperate people with only their bodies to sell, those hiding from the iron law of Apollo. The usual waifs and strays.” Manto placed a hand on Danae’s shoulder. “Come on.”
They led her over to a far corner away from the fire. It was colder, but more private. As she sat, it dawned on her that, like the Maenads, Manto hadn’t once spoken the sacred greeting. In her village that would be like forgetting to breathe. Not saying it implied you had something to hide from the gods and would bring years of bad luck on your family. Or so everyone believed.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone who you are. Only the Children of Prometheus know.”
“Prometheus...the Titan?” That couldn’t be what Manto meant. The Titans were the embodiment of evil.
“No, my uncle Prometheus.” Manto raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Prometheus the Titan.”
The crease between Danae’s brows deepened. “Why would they know who I am?”
Manto laughed. Their mirth quickly vanished when they took in the expression on her face. For a moment they looked worried, then their eyes sharpened with realization.
“You’re right. At this moment I am the only member who knows that the last daughter has come. Finally.”
Danae’s suspicions were confirmed. “I’m grateful you saved me, I really am...but I think you made a mistake.”
Manto frowned. “Mistake?”
