‘Leave her be. She’ll come back in her own time.’
Danae watched her for a moment, then stepped back, freeing herself from Telamon’s grasp.
‘There is something I must do.’
She stalked the shore, collecting loose stones in the hem of her dress. Then she walked across the sand onto the dusty earth and paused by a scattered crop of yellow, violet and red blooms. She crouched, unfurling her bounty, and began to build a mound of rocks, the largest at the bottom, the smallest at the top.
When she was done, she knelt on the ground.
She had put finding Alea’s ghost before her destiny, and it had almost cost her everything. Metis had told her the original Titans sacrificed all they were to become Gaia’s champions. Now she must do the same. When she left Delos there could be no more distractions; her life was no longer her own.
‘Wherever you are, I will never stop loving you and I willnever forget …’ fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, ‘but I cannot keep carrying you.’
Then she rose and walked back towards the sea.
Danae found Telamon sitting by the boat. Nestled in its belly was a bundle of Poseidon’s armour, the shards of his trident and the collar that had subdued her powers, all wrapped in an old cloth salvaged from the wreckage of Metis’ hut.
‘You brought the trident and the collar.’
‘I thought you might want them,’ replied Telamon.
She frowned as she considered the jumble of metal. She did not know what she would do with them, but a spark of intuition told her they had not yet served their purpose.
‘Good thinking.’ She glanced about. ‘No Atalanta?’
He shook his head.
‘Should we go after her?’
‘No. She’ll come back when she’s cooled down. Trust me.’
Danae lowered herself down beside him, and they both gazed out towards the ocean.
‘I take it we’re still sailing for Olympus?’
Danae nodded, then briefly closed her aching eyelids.
‘Tell me a joke.’
Telamon looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘A money lender from Mycenae died. When his family read the will, they discovered he’d named himself as heir.’
‘I don’t get it.’
He clicked his tongue. ‘Everyone knows Mycenaean money lenders are the most miserly men in all of Greece.’
‘Not everyone.’
Telamon glanced at her, his lip curled. ‘Anyone who didn’t grow up on a backward rock in the middle of the Aegean.’
Danae snorted. ‘Where were you born that is so superior to Naxos?’
‘Aegina. But I spent many years on Salamis.’ He let out a long, wistful breath. ‘Nowthatis an island. Finest olive groves in Greece, and the women, ah the women …’ a dreamy expression softened his face. ‘Hips like ripe figs and skin so soft when they wrap their thighs around you –’
‘I get it.’
Telamon glanced at her. ‘Although perhaps not quite to your taste. I suspect you enjoy a tougher variety of fruit.’
Danae swallowed. He was steering the conversation into waters she did not wish to sail. ‘Aboard theArgo, Peleus told me about your younger brother Phocus’ accident. It wasn’t your fault the discus hit him, you know that?’
