After a beat she said, “Daeira.”
“Goodbye, Daeira. May the Twelve ever watch over you.”
Danae watched the Queen of Athens walk away down the jetty. Phaedra wouldn’t know it, but her parting words left a chill in the air. She looked toward the ocean one last time, slipped Phaedra’s ring into her bag, then set off toward the town.
Manto had done their best to convince the Twelve that she was dead. That would hopefully buy her some time. Her seer’s disguise was a good one, but she was currently caked in grime, sweat and blood. If she was going to talk her way aboard a ship sailing for the Black Sea, first she would need a bath.
Corinth was a town somewhere in size between that of Delphi and Danae’s village on Naxos. The official port buildings soon gave way to humbler stone dwellings. Women, their hair bound up in scarves, swept their porches while children played petteia in the middle of the street.Despite being a direct sailing route to and from Delphi, the people of Corinth seemed to exist at a more relaxed pace than in the larger cities. Danae was relieved. Her body trembled from days of running and fearing for her life. She knew there was a chance the harpies could realize their mistake and come back for her, but she needed a moment to gather herself or she would collapse.
She paused to watch a potter sculpt a clay bowl outside his stall. Deep red vases and amphorae detailed with black and white paint were stacked to the side of him, many adorned with likenesses of Heracles and his heroic deeds. On some he was fighting the many-headed hydra, on others he was felling the Erymanthian boar and on a row of vases at the front, he was wrestling the Nemean lion. The great beast roared as the hero squeezed its neck between his massive arms. In this last image, Heracles wore nothing but a small kilt.
“Five obols for those.” The potter winked, after muttering the sacred greeting. “That design is very popular with the ladies.”
“Oh.” Danae swiftly returned the gesture and shook her head. “I’m not buying. I’m actually looking for a bathhouse. Do you know if there’s one nearby?”
It felt strange now, touching her forehead with her middle finger.
The potter looked disappointed but inclined his head down the road. She hurried off and was relieved when she turned the corner and saw a dolphin mosaic set into the stone above a curved doorway. She ducked through the entrance and found herself in a large vestibule, women passing through a doorway to her right and men through an identical one to the left. A sturdy oak table was positioned against the far side and a bored-looking man was slumped behind it. She stank of dried blood and sweat, but thankfully her black dress hid the worst of the stains.
You’re a seer, she told herself.Act like it.
Steeling herself, she held her head high and marched up to the desk, then said the sacred greeting.
The proprietor’s eyebrows crept up his forehead as he took her in.
“A private room or the communal baths?”
“Private room.”
“Scented oils?”
“Yes.”
The proprietor smiled obsequiously. “Good choice.”
Danae shoved her hand into Manto’s bag and rooted around for coins. She placed two obols on the desk.
There was a pause.
“And the rest?”
Her brow creased. She had no idea how much a bathhouse cost, having only ever washed in the river back home.
“The price is one drachma.”
One drachma for a bath! That much coin could have fed her whole family for a month.
“What if I don’t have the scented oils?”
The man pursed his lips. “Four obols.Twowill buy you half an hour in the women’s communal baths.”
She’d been planning on washing her robe and inspecting the prophecy stone. She could do neither in a communal bath.
“Wait.” She delved back into the bag to see if there were any more coins she’d missed on her first sweep. Her fingers brushed Phaedra’s ring. She hesitated, imagining it was worth far more than one drachma, but having no other way to pay, dropped it on the desk between them.
The proprietor’s mouth fell open. He looked at Danae, then the ring, back at Danae, then the ring again. He picked it up like it would shatter at any moment and turned it slowly between his fingers.
“Beautiful,” he breathed.
