Manto’s mouth twitched. “What do you think I’ve been doing all these years, sitting on my ass? I know people. The ones no one notices. The ones they send in to clean up.”
Danae repeated the prophecy in her mind.When the prophet falls, and gold that grows bears no fruit, the last daughter will come. She will end the reign of thunder and become the light that frees mankind.
“What does the prophecy mean?”
Manto slumped against the earthen wall, their eyes red from the effects of the pipe.
“Not sure about the fruity bit,” they chuckled. “But the rest pretty much means you’re going to storm Olympus, kill Zeus and free us all from the tyranny of the bastard Twelve.”
Danae flinched. “You can’t...don’t say things like that.”
“Why not?” Manto gestured broadly around the cavern. “I’ve blasphemed at least three times since we’ve been here, and I haven’t been struck down. Let me tell you something about the gods, they want us to believe they can read our thoughts and hear everything we say, but it’s a lie.” Manto slouched even lower. “Who was your patron deity on Naxos?”
“Demeter.”
“Right. I bet you all slaved away to produce offerings and pay her temple tithe. But despite all your devotion, all your piety and sacrifice, people still died and starved and joined the Missing, and your goddess did fuck all about it. The gods aren’t as powerful as people think.”
Nauseating cracks appeared in Danae’s reality.
“You know what’s funny.” Manto was practically horizontal now. “I thought you’d be this fierce warrior with a magnificent plan—a female Heracles. But look at you. The fates have a sick sense of humor.”
As Manto spoke, their thumb slipped from the barrel of the pipe, and Danae spotted a familiar symbol captured in flaking paint.
The golden apple tree.
She pointed. “That’s the tree, the one from my visions.”
Manto held the pipe close to their face, then lowered it and grinned at Danae. “The tree of knowledge. Those teeny golden apples symbolize the gift of truth Prometheus gave us. That’s what my father told me, anyway. The Children of Prometheus draw it places so we know who to trust and where...” Manto yawned “...we’ll be safe.”
Gold that grows.Burning hands reaching for golden fruit.
“Are there many of you?”
Manto shrugged. “I’ve got a handful of contacts in the holy city. Sometimes I receive instructions, but I don’t know who from. The Children guard their anonymity. It’s how we stay alive.”
Danae stared at the ground, her head whirling with disoriented thoughts.
When she looked up, Manto’s eyes had closed, and the pipe had tumbled into their lap. Lithos trotted over and nudged the smoldering barrel away from their robe, then curled up against them.
She could leave now, find her way to a port and sail back to Naxos. But she was the girl who’d destroyed the oracle. She couldn’t risk bringing such danger back to Naxos.
As much as she wanted to run from Manto and whatever sacrilegious schemes they were involved in, they had saved her from almost certain death. Perhaps these Children of Prometheus could help her too.
There might be hope of a cure after all.
Danae was jolted awake by Lithos barking. The fire had died to ash, but an orange light shone through the passageway. She became aware of other noises outside, crashing and screaming. The air smelled acrid and bitter. Above them, the ground rumbled, and clumps of earth fell from the ceiling.
“Out, everybody out!” Manto was already on their feet, bag slung over their shoulder. They turned to Danae. “Come on.”
Manto and Danae joined the crush of people piling through the passageway. Danae nearly fell as the earthen walls shook with the force of another collision. Once free of the tunnel, they ran across the arena, stones rolling into their path from the crumbling seats above. They ducked through an entrance and, once clear of the gymnasium, Danae’s legs stopped moving.
Billows of black smoke boiled up from the burning city. A light appeared in the sky, a streak of fire searing through the darkness to explode into the buildings below. Then came another and another.
“Lithos! Lithos!” Manto cast around frantically.
They were answered by a gruff bark, and the dog pelted toward them. Manto gathered him in their arms and stared up at the sky.
“He’s here.” Their voice shook like the rocks at their feet.
