Page 5 of The Hymn to Dionysus

He folded back onto the bed and creaked. “It’s late . . .”

I tunnelled under the blankets and came up in his lap. “Surprise badger!”

He tipped sideways laughing. “Ah, you make a good point. Fine.” He moved a pillow upright against the head of the bed and leaned on it. I curled up in his lap, aware I was behaving like a baby but loving having him all to myself. Usually there were his friends and orders and chores and all the rest.

“Once upon a time, there was a girl called Persephone. She was poor, and her mother was the sort of person who wanted her never to leave home or have any adventures, but she was too clever to stay cooped on a farm always. One day, she met Death on the road. Nobody wants to be friends with Death, so he was always lonely. He was a polite person and he bowed to her, and she bowed to him, which surprised him, because usually people ran away; but he was even more surprised when she said, Listen, I’ve got an idea . . .”

I went to sleep dreaming about going to live in Hades with all the souls, and crossing the river with the Ferryman. But under that, I couldn’t shake the sense that the princess with the baby had worried Helios far more than meeting Death on the road.

2

I didn’t feel like I’d had much sleep at all when someone woke me up. It was the Queen, holding a lamp. She wasn’t trying to wake me, only Helios, but I was tucked up against him, so she couldn’t shake him without shaking me as well.

“Helios. I need some help. I don’t trust the slaves.”

“Oh—what?” he asked, confused from dreaming. “Agave—what’s the matter?”

“I need some help,” she said again, low and measured. “And I don’t trust the slaves.”

He stared at her as if she had just confessed to flinging someone off the High City, and then he looked down at me. “I—right. Phaidros, you go back to sleep. I’ll . . . I’ll be back soon.”

“What?” I whispered, horrified. I’d never slept by myself, ever. It wasn’t safe. If you slept by yourself, then an Enemy could come and kill you in the night about nobody would be able to fight them off. “No—”

He stroked my hair. “No, come on, you’re big enough to be by yourself for an hour. Look, the dog’s here, she’ll keep you company—”

“No, no, I’m not—”

“Obedience is strength,” he said softly.

As always, it put a wall down in my head. I couldn’t have not done as I was told after he’d said that even if the room was on fire. Knights obey, and if they don’t, they’re not real knights, and they don’t have honour, and the only thing in the world that’s ever really yours is your honour. “Obedience is strength,” I whispered back, like you’re meant to, even if you’re scared; especially if you’re scared.

“I love you, tiny knight. I’ll be back soon.”

So they both vanished into the dark corridor, and I stayed where I was, hunched in a miserable ball and staring at all the unfamiliar shadows in the corners. The unmenacing dog was asleep, and definitely not paying attention to the nighttime noises of the Palace. I could hear someone walking on the stone floor a long way away. It was hard not to wonder if they were an Enemy on their way here to kill me while Helios was away. I pulled the blanket with me and hid under the bed.

It didn’t help.

He had been gone for years.

This was dangerous. Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous—the word thumped around my head in time with my pulse, which was loud. Sitting alone in a strange place is how you die. That was our main rule at camp. No one ever goes anywhere alone. He shouldn’t have left me. It was dangerous. Obedience is strength, but strength is no good if you’re dead.

I crept out into the corridor.

It wasn’t that dark. There were banks of lamps lit here and there, not bright, but enough to see the way by. A slave in plain clothes and a bronze collar was trimming the wicks on some of them, and she gave me a puzzled look as I trailed past. I was afraid she would stop me, but she seemed to decide it was none of her business. I had to look back, disconcerted, because grown-ups never just left you alone if you were about alone at night. There could be Enemies.

Maybe she thought I was big enough to look after myself.

I swallowed. “Um. Excuse me. Have you seen Helios?”

“I think the Queen took him over that way, sir.”

That threw me. “I’m not sir, I’m four,” I said.

“You’re Sown,” she said, laughing a bit.

“So—over there,” I said, looking the way she had pointed. I wondered how you were ever supposed to find anyone in this place, but she was studying me as if she were reconsidering whether or not to put me somewhere, so I hurried away, not sure what was beyond the corner, and then fell over, because there was a statue of Apollo that looked exactly like a person. I picked myself up, and He moved. I knew what He was, but it was dark and I spooked. I ran, and only slowed down when I realized I could hear Helios’s voice.

He was in the courtyard with the Poseidon statue, and he was carrying something heavy-looking rolled up in a rug. He set it down on the ground. He had no lamp, even though the rain and the thunderclouds made the night very dark. I could only just see him. An unhappy cry came from somewhere on the ground, and he bent down and picked up a baby.