‘Atalanta—’ I began, before the lump in my throat rendered me incapable of speech. I did not want to start weeping now. I was not sure I would ever stop.
‘Oh, save your tears. I’ve had a full life.’ She poked the fire with a long stick, sending up sparks.
‘Let me find you a healer, someone who knows how to treat your illness,’ I begged.
Atalanta snorted. ‘I won’t let those butchers touch me. WithArtemis Far-Shooter as my witness, it will end poorly for them if they try. Let me live out my days under the sky, among the trees. “Call no one happy until she is dead,” the proverb says. Well, death comes to all, and I am not afraid to meet him.’
‘Let me stay with you,’ I implored. ‘I will look after you in your last days.’
‘No!’ Atalanta spat. ‘You belong with your family. Leave an old woman in peace. Besides, it is time that you returned to your parents in Mycenae. Unless I miss my guess, you are pregnant.’ Her grey eyes flicked towards my belly.
‘How did you know?’ I asked.
Atalanta looked back at the fire, a self-satisfied grin splitting her face. ‘I didn’t know for certain until you confirmed it just now. But you’ve gotten up half a dozen times this evening to piss, and you ate your own body weight in stew. Add to that the fact that you’re a newlywed, and the conclusion is obvious.’
‘I am not going to leave you here alone,’ I said.
Atalanta’s expression softened. ‘Go home, dear girl,’ she said in a gentle voice I had never heard before. She must have used it with her son when he was small, suffering from scraped knees or bruised feelings. ‘Whatever your husband does, your parents will welcome the child. If it’s a boy, he will be the new crown prince of Mycenae,’ she continued. ‘You are full of life, and you seek life. This is a place of death. Soon you will need more help than I can provide.’
‘I’m afraid,’ I admitted, my voice trembling. ‘I’m so afraid. What if it goes badly?’What if the baby dies in childbirth? Or if I die, and the baby is left without either parent?
Atalanta nodded sagely. ‘That is always a danger,’ she said to me. ‘Hunting monsters is not nearly as terrifying as becoming a mother. I will not fill your head with useless platitudes.’
She pulled out the pipe once more and puffed its foul-smellingsmoke; she claimed that the herb, a plant from Scythia, eased the pain of the disease that gnawed at her bones.
‘What can I do?’ I asked.
‘Nothing.’ Atalanta deposited the ashes on the bare earth, tapping the pipe a few times to clear it completely. ‘The fear never goes away. But in time, love makes it bearable.’
I insisted on staying with her for three days. I built up stores of food and firewood for Atalanta, setting numerous snares for small game to contribute to the smokehouse, and stacked wood outside her lean-to. A deer or two would have done nicely, but I did not have the time for an extended hunt. Atalanta clucked her tongue at me all the while, but I think she was secretly glad for my company.
Before I left, Atalanta insisted on giving me an extra blanket, a knife, and a bundle of dried meat. ‘Tiryns is not far, but I will not have you suffer hunger or cold on the journey.’
‘You are dying!’ I shot back. ‘I will not take your supplies.’
‘That’s exactly why you should take them!’ Atalanta replied. ‘You will need them longer than I will.’
In the end, I accepted her judgment.
On the morning that I departed for Tiryns, Atalanta held my shoulders and gazed at me for a long time, memorizing every line of my face. At last, the old hero said, ‘You are not like a daughter to me. I would never rest easy if I had a daughter; the world is too cruel. But you have been like my little sister. I have watched you grow into the fullness of your strength, and it has been one of the great joys of my life. I am glad I had the chance to see you once more before I die.’
I left before Atalanta could see the tears on my cheeks and did not look back.
25
Eros
Aphrodite had not been idle in her threat to imprison me in this lightless place. At first, I told myself it was nothing. I had chosen solitude before when I made my home in the lonely cliffside above the sea, and this was no different.
I was wrong. Days passed, morning and night, and no one came to loosen my chains. I found that I could not stretch my legs or arms, which caused my joints to lock and spasm. A mortal might have been crippled, and though my divinity sustained me, it did little to ease the pain.
I could not die, but I could experience endless deprivation. My tongue dried to the consistency of leather, and eventually even my tears ran dry. Hunger scraped me hollow. I tested the chains with all my divine strength, but they would not be moved. I tried grinding them against the rock, but they were god-forged, and it would take centuries to make the slightest indentation.
Worse than any of this was the thought of Psyche. I imagined her wandering alone in the wilderness, skin scraped raw by thorns and brambles, certain that I had discarded her. Even if I managed to escape this place, I would never be able to find her; if we set eyes on each other, the curse would only pry us apart again.
I slept as much as I could, trying to find a moment of peace through oblivion. Soon Aphrodite found a way to take this from me too.
More than once I was startled awake by the snarl of Aphrodite’s voice in my ear. I had no idea how she managed to come and go so easily from this windowless room, but she would do this often in the days to come, shaking me from peaceful sleep into the cold truth of my circumstances.
