“That’s the spirit.” The red-haired man slung an arm around Hylas’s shoulders.
Danae had always assumed Heracles undertook his heroic deeds alone. But, she supposed, even a hero needed backup.
“I hear Ancaeus, the bearskin warrior, has already pledged himself to the Argonauts,” said the older man.
The woman laughed. “Warrior, my ass. He probably skinned the first beast he found dead in the woods.”
“Let’s settle this.” The flame-haired man looked to Heracles. “We could either go on a needlessly lengthy quest for some mythical golden fleece or go back to Mycenae, where there are warm beds and women waiting for us?”
The hero stared into his cup.
“Well?” prompted the woman.
After a stretch of silence, Heracles looked up from his wine. “I have no appetite for Mycenae or Eurystheus’s demands. We join Jason and these Argonauts.”
The red-haired man sighed but made no attempt to argue.
Danae’s mouth was dry. They were going to the end of the world. This was it, the feeling like eels in the pit of her stomach. The fates must have drawn her to Heracles for this reason. Now all she had to do was convince the hero to take her with them. She gulped down the last of her wine and rose to her feet, wiping her sweaty palms on her cloak.
“Heracles!” Someone called across the kapeleion.
Danae shrank back into her corner as a man came striding toward the hero’s table. From his blue cloak and armor, she recognized him to be an Athenian guard. She pulled her hood down lower over her face.
The guard and Heracles evidently knew each other well. After exchanging the sacred greeting, the hero rose to grasp the man’s hand and slap him on the back, the force of which nearly sent the guard crashing into the table.
“Leander, what in Tartarus brings you to Corinth?”
With a flick of his cloak, Leander sat at the table, forcing the older man to move along the bench. He leaned in and lowered his voice. Danae was forced to lip-read to determine what he was saying.
“You’ve heard about Delphi?”
The others shook their heads.
Leander sucked in a breath. “The entire city’s been razed to the ground. Balls of flame fell from the sky.”
All merriment vanished from the listeners’ faces.
“What?” Hylas’s voice was barely a whisper.
“Who would dare invade the sacred city?” asked the older man.
Leander stretched out a dramatic pause. “They’re saying Apollo himself.”
“Impossible,” said the woman. “Why would Apollo destroy his own city? His oracle?”
Leander shrugged. “It’s not for us to question the will of the gods.”
The silence was heavy. Danae felt nauseated as the smell of burning flesh came unbidden into her memory.
“Join us for a drink?” asked Heracles.
Leander shook his head. “Can’t, I’m on official business.” He looked around again and leaned in even closer. “Our queen’s gone missing. She was in Delphi when it all happened, but we know she got out. Found her wedding ring in a bathhouse a few streets away from here.” He shook his head. “Theseus will lose his mind, and I’ll probably lose my head if I return to Athens without her. Don’t suppose you’ve seen anything?”
Heracles shook his head. “We’re just passing through.”
Leander sighed. “Well, I’d leave tonight if I were you. The city’s going to be flooded with pilgrims before long. They’ll have nowhere to go.” He pushed himself up from the bench. “Right, I’d best be on my way.” He inclined his head, then left the kapeleion in a flare of blue.
“You heard him,” said the flame-haired man. “Let’s go before those bloody pilgrims get here.”
