Nymphs appeared, minor goddesses of the natural world. They came bearing wine, fresh water, and cups. I accepted one, but Medea elbowed me sharply in the ribs, so I did not drink.
I could not take my eyes from the sorceress. Though perhaps only an illusion, a faint luminosity seemed to emanate from Circe’s skin, filling the house and bending the shadows to her will.
She met my gaze, a faint smile on her lips. One of the nymphs drew close to Circe, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Never taking her eyes from mine, Circe’s lips quirked. When the nymph moved away, Circe grabbed her wrist. The nymph giggled, allowing Circe to pull her closer.
Circe kissed the nymph, long and slow like a lover; the kind of kiss that leaves lips tender and bruised.
A lightning bolt went through me, recalling Procris and our nights of passion. The laughing nymph slipped out of Circe’s grasp and ran off to join the others.
“Aunt,”Medea hissed, pressing one long-fingered hand to her chest.
“Don’t be prudish,” Circe chided, wearing the self-satisfiedlook of a well-fed cat. “It’s your fault, really, for guiding that ship full of strong, handsome men to my island and not deigning to bring a single one of them ashore. I love my nymphs, but I simplyadorea bit of variety.”
“They say you turn men into pigs,” Medea muttered darkly.
“Men are already pigs,” Circe replied lightly. “I simply make the outer part match the inner. Though it’s not only men I like.” Circe’s eyes flashed toward me. “What is your name, beautiful one?”
My lips fumbled over an answer. “A-Atalanta.”
“She is my friend and fellow traveler,” Medea explained. “Don’t harass her. Now, if we may—”
“Atalanta,” Circe echoed, ignoring Medea. The sound of my name in her mouth was like a caress. “I have a proposal for you. Stay here with me. Share my bed, and I will give you anything you desire.”
I was suddenly too warm, strangling with heat.Share my bed.I felt drunk, though I had not consumed a drop of wine.
Medea was sputtering with indignation, saying something about hospitality and the harassment of guests, but Circe continued to ignore her.
“I could give you what you long for,” Circe said to me, her golden eyes hypnotic. “I am mistress of the art of transformation. Once we have taken our pleasure from each other, I can give you the shape you were meant to have.”
The shadow of a bear rose along the wall, towering over us and slowly fading.
“How...” I whispered, remembering my heart’s first desire.How did you know?
“You have the look of a hunter and you smell like the forest,” Circe replied. “Of course you would not wish to be human.”
Once, long ago, I’d prayed for Artemis to make me into a bear, craving the easy sense of belonging I thought would come fromchoosing the animal world. But now I understood that things were not so simple.
“My apologies, lady,” I said, lifting my hands palms up like an animal showing its soft underbelly. “But I must decline your offer. The bear shape would never really be my own, would it, but a gift that could be rescinded at any time. I would become only another one of your creatures, the scope of my life measured out by the bounds of this island. However benevolent your rule, you are the ultimate queen and mistress of this place, and I am not anyone’s subject.”
Circe’s gaze held mine. “I see.”
“Besides,” I continued, “whatever form I take, I am a bear in my innermost soul. Those who know me will see me as I am, and to hell with all the rest.”
“Are you saying I should go to hell?” Circe asked, eyebrow raising.
I shook my head. “No, my lady. As a goddess, I do not think that is even possible for you.”
Circe stared for a moment, then threw back her head with raucous laughter. “Oh, you’re a witty one. I like that. You really will not stay with me?”
“No. I am here to fulfill a vow made to your niece, nothing more.”
“A vow? How gallant. And how very, very interesting.” Circe’s eyes slid to Medea.
“Stop it!” Medea brought down her hand on the table, causing Circe’s antlered rabbit to flee from the room like a shooting star. “I’ve come here with a purpose. By the kinship of the Heliades, I call on you to offer purification and expel the miasma that has settled upon me.”
Circe sighed and stretched lazily. “Very well,” she said, beckoning to the attendant nymphs waiting in the wings. One by one,they brought in the instruments of purification, including a live piglet. I found myself wondering if the little thing had begun life as the child of a sow or a human woman.
A shiver ran down my spine, and I felt as though I’d escaped some sort of trap. But as Circe’s eyes lingered greedily on the Fleece, I knew that we were not yet safe. Glancing sidelong at Medea, I prayed to Artemis Far-Shooter that a witch would know how to outsmart another witch.
