“Telemachus told us of an island,” I explained breathlessly. “There is a witch there who welcomes wayward women—”
“Aeaea. Yes, I have heard of it. That is where you will go?”
“Wherewewill go,” I corrected.
Penelope stared at me with eyes so bright they made the moon pale in envy. She took my hands in hers, and I felt the weight of her pain within them.
“Melantho—”
“No. No, no, no. Don’t do this. Don’t you dare—”
“I cannot go with you,” she said, her voice achingly soft. “Odysseus will never let me leave Ithaca. He would not rest until he found me. I would put all of you in danger.”
“I don’t care,” I snapped, tightening my fingers around hers. “Let him come. Let him hunt us.”
“But what of the others? We cannot risk their lives too.”
“We will go separately. We will find our own way.”
Penelope’s gaze drifted to where Telemachus stood watching us from a little way off.
“You know I cannot leave him,” she whispered.
“Fine. Then I’ll stay with you.”
“If you stay, he will kill you, Melantho. Odysseus must believe you are dead. All of you. That is the only way you can be safe.”
A sob swelled in my throat. “You would really stay with that monster?”
“I would.” She nodded. “To protect you. To protect Telemachus.”
“What if he hurts you?”
“He won’t.”
“You saw what he did to my brother—”
“I know, I know.” She drew me to her gently, resting her chin on my head. “The war has made Odysseus sick, horribly sick. I cannot let him pass that sickness on to Telemachus. I must protect my son and the others beneath our roof. I will not let Odysseus destroy what we’ve built here.”
“But who will protectyou?” I wept into her shoulder—furious, useless tears. “Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me leave you. I will never forgive you if you do. For as long as I live.”
“I know.” She pulled back and smiled at me. “But you will live.”
For a moment, all I could do was stare at her, draped in moonlight and shadows, just as she had been the night we met. We had been so very young then, so clueless about the world and all it would take from us.
“I can’t lose you,” I breathed.
Tears slipped down Penelope’s cheeks as she cupped my face, her touch filled with such torturous love.
“You won’t ever lose me, Melantho. I will come for you.”
“When?”
“When it is safe.”
I threw myself into Penelope’s arms again, holding her so fiercely, willing every inch of her body to imprint on mine so I might always feel the shape of her against me.
The sailor coughed loudly. We were taking too much time.
