Not one of the little squalls that sometimes misted the deck of theArgo. No, this was a true storm, with rolling waves that pitched the ship this way and that and an angry sea that sheeted over the deck, bearing away anything not carefully secured. Bolts of lightning arced far too close to the mast.
As the deck rocked back and forth, I was knocked from my feet and went skidding on my side across the slick wood. The rain mingled with the sea until the whole world was water, and I could not tell which way was up and which was down. There was nothing to do but dig my fingernails into the wood to avoid being pitched overboard.
“Medea!” Jason shouted over the gale. “Do something!”
“I can’t!” I cried, helpless before the wind and rain. My witchcraft took time to prepare, mixing the herbs and developing the chants. I could not perform miracles on command, and I’d never had the chance to master weather magic.
All around I could hear calls to pull in the oars or draw the sails, interspersed with the slam of a wave on the deck and the resulting spray of cold seawater. The deck jerked upward as theArgofollowed a sea swell, making my stomach drop. I spat out a mouthful of salt and clung like a barnacle to a beam.
Eventually the nauseating lurch of the ship calmed, and I relaxed my white-knuckled grip. I must have drifted into unconsciousness, because when I opened my eyes, it was to the blinding brightness of sunlight.
TheArgolay on its side. Beyond it, some of the crew stood milling about, peering at something. I slid off the angled deck and ran to see what they were looking at.
Nothingness.
All around us were tidal flats stretching away into the distance. Here and there were puddles of brackish pools, reflecting the cloudless blue sky like rotted holes in fabric.
Nothing but sky and sand and patches of undrinkable water as far as the eye could see. No animal moved in this wasteland, and no bird flew.
There was no sign of the sea.
Atalanta
“What is this place?” I whispered, staring out at the wasteland as my terror grew. “How did we get here?”
“A freak wave from the storm must have stranded us far inland,” Tiphys said. “As for where we are, I cannot say. There are no stars, so I can’t tell our location. I don’t know which way to reach the sea. We may be on the outskirts of the Underworld for all I know, or fallen into a labyrinth of illusion woven by some angry god.”
For the first time on our long journey, I saw fear on Tiphys’s weather-beaten face.
“In a short while, the tide will come in and carry us back out to sea,” Jason said, always too quick to hope for the best. “We only have to wait.”
But the tide did not come. The sun only grew hotter, so we took shelter under the bulk of theArgo. Our supplies were almost nonexistent: the amphorae of water brought from Phaeacia had been mostly lost in the storm, and the bread was waterlogged and inedible.
We had no water, no food. No way out.
The sun climbed higher in the sky. Sweat dried on my skin, leaving behind the scaly residue of salt. Already I was parched with thirst. Stunned by our circumstances, the Argonauts scattered to nap through the heat of the day, shambling off to curl up in the shade of the ship like wounded animals. I followed suit.
My eyes opened when I heard the sound of footsteps.
Medea crouched nearby, her expression solemn. The sight of her filled me with a complex swirl of emotions: joy, anger, sorrow. Unable to contend with any of it, I turned away from her and curled up on my side.
“When you taught me how to throw the spear,” she said, “you showed me more than the use of a weapon. You showed me that I could learn something new, that I could try and struggle and eventually succeed, and claim power for myself. I’d never felt anything like that before, not even with my magic.
“I know you’re angry with me,” she continued. “But try to understand why I did what I did back on Phaeacia, please.”
There was no way to tell Medea that understanding played no part in it, that my heart had been broken all over again like a smashed gourd. That I wasn’t angry with her, only myself for loving her.
“You asked me to go with you into the forests,” Medea said. “But it would never have worked out between us. I want a family, Atalanta. A husband and children, the happiness I never knew growing up. However much I like walks in the woods, I can’t livethere forever, surviving off leaves and berries. If I went with you, neither of us could have the lives we want.
“But we don’t have to be strangers. That’s what I was trying to get at before in my own clumsy way, and it’s even more important now.” Medea lowered her voice to a hiss. “Atalanta, don’t you see we’re never going to leave this place? We are going to die here, and the Golden Fleece will glitter among our bones.
“We are going to die here, and I will never see you again, because after my eyes close forever my mother Hekate will be waiting for me. I’ll become a goddess and won’t be able to follow you into the Underworld where the mortal dead go. Don’t you see?We will never see each other again.”
Her voice cracked with feeling, as if this were the worst thing she could think of, worse even than death. I longed to comfort her but held myself firmly still.
“So sit with me, talk with me, even if for only a little while before death separates us forever,” Medea finished. “If not... I suppose this is goodbye.” She stood in a rustle of skirts, and the sound of her footsteps led away.
Above, the sun bathed the world in a white blaze. A tremor ran through my facade of righteous anger, then a crack. Perhaps I had been too harsh to Medea, letting bitterness and pride obscure our connection. She still cared about me, even if not in the exact way I’d hoped.
