Another pause. ‘I will send one of the children.’
Hera’s heart thrummed against her chest, her body aching with the memory of the wounds she had carried from facing the girl atop the Caucasus Mountains.
‘You would risk sending the children after her again, now we know how powerful she is? Have you decided to tell them the truth?’ asked Poseidon.
‘No,’ Zeus replied sharply. ‘The prophecy must be kept a secret …’ He continued so softly Hera could barely hear him, but she did catch a name. ‘… Hermes.’
‘You really think the boy is a match for her?’
Another silence, swollen with Hera’s racing heartbeat.
‘If he is not, I will send another.’
Hera clasped a hand to her mouth. Not waiting to allow Zeus and Poseidon time to discover her, she ran down the dark passage, the terrible truth of what she’d learned searing through her veins.
Expendable, whispered the voice that had lived in her mind ever since Zeus bid her bite into a golden apple, all those years ago.To him, the children are expendable.
4. Seekers
‘Tell me where the entrance is,’ Danae demanded.
Orpheus’ lips parted. He stared at her for a moment, then his face crumpled. He slid down the wall to sit like a child on the ground, head hung between his knees, his shoulders heaving.
Danae clenched her teeth. Her nerves were screaming at her to run. For all she knew, this was a trap, and Orpheus had created this display to stall for time. But there was something in the rawness of his pain that felt honest, as though it held a mirror to her own. And if he did indeed know where to find the entrance to the Underworld, he might be her best chance of discovering the truth of what had happened to Alea’s ghost. Her breath quivered at the thought.
She stepped towards the musician and lay a tentative hand on his shoulder. He flinched at her touch.
‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ She crouched to his level. ‘Orpheus, look at me.’
He lifted his bruised eyes to meet hers. ‘I’m sorry … I’ve been so alone …’
‘Come on,’ she said gruffly. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
Orpheus wiped his face and heaved himself to his feet. They walked in silence to the end of the alley, then Danae turned left, Orpheus right. They paused and looked back at one another, speaking in unison.
‘My horse is outside the town –’
‘– my belongings are this way.’
A beat fell between them.
‘My lodgings aren’t far,’ said Orpheus. ‘And I have food and wine.’
Danae hesitated. ‘Good wine?’
‘Decent enough … nothing fancy.’
Thinking of Hylas she replied, ‘All right, but we must be quick.’
They paced down the quiet street, out into a square dominated by a large water fountain crowned by a statue of Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love. The Olympian’s likeness was carved from Taenarum’s pale green marble and painted in bold colours. She was leaning forwards, reaching for someone, her voluptuous curves draped in a thin cloth buffeted by an imaginary breeze. Bright flowers floated in the water, and the sweet scent of rose and beeswax drifted across the square, from where the locals had anointed the marble goddess’s feet.
As they walked past the statue, Orpheus’ eyes swept over Danae’s makeshift peplos and lingered on her braided hair.
‘Why aren’t you dressed as a seer?’
Danae frowned. Of course, Orpheus had known her when disguised as Daeira, the seer, one who divines the will of the gods. She countered his question with one of her own: ‘Why are you seeking the Underworld?’
Orpheus’ eyes shimmered. ‘My Eurydice.’
