A matronly woman, probably the boys’ mother, runs to embrace her sons. She weeps in sheer delight, as if her heart has come back to her. Another woman joins her, strands of white woven through her dark hair. The boys’ grandmother, perhaps? At the edge of the gathering loiters a young man with a doughy face, and running across the hall is a young woman only a little older than Jason. She is wearing a long purple dress with fine embroidery along the neck and sleeves. She is very pretty, and Jason finds his gaze lingering upon her.
A whirling cloak announces the arrival of the king, his hooked nose and pale gold eyes giving him a predatory air. It is impossible not to recognize Aeetes; the chill that descends at his arrival is unmistakable. Aeetes is the only one who does not express joy at the reunion. Perhaps he is not capable of such feelings.
“I see that you have my grandsons, stranger,” Aeetes says in lightly accented Greek.
Jason’s palms sweat. This is the moment he’s been waiting for, the culmination of his quest. His eyes sweep over Aeetes’s form; the king is not wearing the Golden Fleece on his person, but Jason can sense its proximity. The throne of Iolcus is so close that he can almost feel its carved arms under his fingers.
“I do, my king,” Jason responds with a respectful bow. “They have been six months at sea, and I have brought them safely home. I am Jason, prince of Iolcus, and—”
Aeetes cuts him off. “What do you want? I assume you expect some sort of reward. So tell me what it is.”
Stunned, but concealing it gamely, Jason nods. “I expect nothing but the satisfaction of reuniting kin. But if you wish to show your gratitude, I would be honored to receive the Golden Fleece.”
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Jason knows he has made a mistake. Previously he assumed that the Golden Fleece was only one among the king’s many treasures—and, judging from the fact that Aeetes isn’t wearing it, not a favorite one. Jason sees now how wrong he was.
“You dare,” Aeetes hisses, seeming to swell in his rage, “to demand the Golden Fleece?! How do I know that you did not kidnap my grandsons yourself with expectations of ransom? Perhaps you are pirates, come to take what is mine.”
“Jason isn’t a pirate, Grandfather, he saved us.” It is Argus, standing next to his mother. “Jason found us and saved all our lives.”
Aeetes ignores the boy. “You want the Fleece, Jason? You will have it—if you stand trial with my bulls.” A laugh like a bitter bark. “When you are finished, I will sow the earth with your bones like the broken teeth of dragons.”
The members of the royal family lower their eyes. The only exception is the young woman in the purple dress, who is glaring at the king with unbridled hatred.
“We will conduct the trial in the morning,” Aeetes says. “I want the benefit of full daylight to watch you suffer.” He smiles, the grin slashing across his face like a wound.
Suddenly, Jason is angry. He has not come this far only to die and give Pelias what he wanted after all. He looks at Aeetes and sees only the greedy, usurping king who killed his father.
“Not only will I face your bulls,” Jason shouts as the guards seize him, “but I will triumph over them, because the world is finished with cruel old men like you.”
One of the guards jerks Jason’s arm behind his back and bundles him out of the atrium none too gently. The last thing Jason sees is the young woman in the purple dress, hands clasped together, peering after him.
18
Medea
In the reaches of the early morning when nothing stirs, I stood outside the room where Jason was being held. Clutching the two amphorae in my hands, I fought to keep my nervousness in check. Walking through walls was not very difficult once you got the gist of it, but bringing something along was more complex. I was still finding the limits of my witchcraft, testing my magic like unfamiliar wings.
Even more intimidating was what I intended to do on the other side of the door: put my future in the hands of a stranger. But I had no choice, if I wanted any future at all.
I’d spoken to Chalciope earlier that evening, when she’d come to my chambers and told me that Father would die tomorrow. She spoke without emotion, as though saying there would be rain in the morning.
“So soon?” I asked, startled.
“Haste serves us, lest Aeetes move to cut down my sons upon their return,” Chalciope explained. “But, Medea, there is something I must ask of you. Please, protect Jason. Whatever happens tomorrow, give him the Golden Fleece and see him safely back to his ship. He returned my sons to me and I will be forever grateful.”
“I’ll protect Jason with my life,” I promised. “And... there is something else.” Taking Chalciope’s hands in mine, I explainedwhat I meant to do. She wept and threw her arms around me, but I think in truth she was not displeased to see me go. No rival claimant for the throne; no strange little sister to deal with.
The memory faded and I returned to myself, standing in the hallway. Time to make my move. Taking a deep breath, I stepped through the locked door. The air was warm on the other side, laced with the scent of burning braziers. I sighed with relief when I saw that I had not, in fact, left my clothing on the other side of the wall. The two amphorae were still in my hands too.
In front of me was Jason.
He was still awake despite the late hour, staring at me wide-eyed. He had hazel eyes, I noticed, and they were very beautiful.
“My name is Medea,” I said in Greek, trying to keep the quaver out of my voice. “And I have come to save your life.”
Jason
He isn’t afraid.
