Page 63 of This Divine Revelry

‘Just make sure she’s not a goddess in disguise first, then,’ he says, the corner of his lips twitching. ‘I’m relieved if you do have power over labyrinths that it has taken root in a metaphorical sense. Imagine if it simply meant you always knew which way to turn.’

I stumble over my dress.

‘What?’ he asks, then, slowly, he gapes, delighted. ‘No, tell me you don’t!’

Running through Knossos, though I’d never walked its streets alone. Leading Theseus to that cave as though certain it would be there. Trekking through that dense mass of trees to the small ring of huts, like I knew exactly where they were and what awaited me. A lifetime in a sprawling palace, never once losing my way.

‘Prepare to dock!’ voices call from above.

‘Okay,’ I say. ‘So, we request hospitality under my father’s roof. We tell him what Theseus did to me. We can perhaps offer to discuss alternative arrangements with other kingdoms, any that Phaedra likes, with your divinity as leverage. With any luck, by the time Theseus arrives, Father will already have the navy armed and ready to send his boat away.’

The ship heaves as a rope is pulled.

Alright, we’re doing this, then.

Dionysus holds his arm out and I slide mine into it – though we have to detangle ourselves to manage the ladder, which is so difficult in the length of this chiton that Dionysus clasps my forearms from above and hauls me up.

‘Thanks,’ I say, brushing my dress down.

‘Here,’ he says, straightening some flyaway strands of my hair.

And it’s that – that even with my home looming before me, I still can’t look away from him – that makes my heart squeeze.

Did it do that with Theseus? This feels different, less infatuation than quiet pining.

Is there hope? That I won’t ruin love out of spite for the last who promised it to me?

A plank slams into the deck. I look up, ready to face my city.

Instead, at its other end is the broad-shouldered prince of my nightmares.

‘Ariadne!’ Theseus calls. His voice is warm – excited even. He brings a hand to his chest, right over his shrivelled heart, and his gaze slides from me to Dionysus, whose arm wraps tight around my waist. A slow smile slides on to his face. ‘You’re alive … Zeus above, I thought I’d never see you again!’

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

AROUND ME, MAENADS BEGIN WHISPERING – and I can feel Hermes attempting to catch Dionysus’s gaze. But he clutches me tighter, like he senses the moment the ground slipped beneath me and he would hold me firm instead. But whatever this is, I want it handled, quickly and quietly, and so I detangle myself from Dionysus’s taut limbs and stride forth, down the gangplank.

‘What do you mean?’ I hiss before I reach Theseus – that smile feels so smug and every bit as pointed as the blade he held to my side on these very docks. ‘You abandoned me. I watched you sail away, I –’

He reaches for my hand and I flinch back so violently my heels hit the wooden plank of the boat.

‘You died,’ he says. ‘I saw it. It must have been a vision – sent by your husband, perhaps, to claim you as his own.’

My heart is thrumming in my throat, and it takes all my resolve to meet his gaze.

Part of me wants to throttle him. But a larger part wants to hide. Within, I am still bleeding, still wounded by his lies and his touch and his betrayal. And now here I am, giving him the opportunity to twist the blade he never bothered to prise out.

‘No, that’s not –’

‘Or Artemis, who wished to offer sanctuary to so pure a maiden.’

His words are pointed – and heavy enough that I hesitate, looking up at him. Wondering if, just for a moment, this is true. That he really thought I’d died.

But then he leans forward and lowers his voice. ‘Come on, Ariadne, this is the story that works best for us both. The real one would ruin you and tarnish me, so why don’t you smile and wave and I’ll explain everything later?’

I feel as though the path ahead has suddenly veered, perhaps caved in altogether, and, in my hesitation, anger flashes across his eyes. ‘You think they’ll believe a lying little slut anyway?’

I wince, which of course he catches – and his eyes spark with a familiar sort of glee. The same that lit them whenever I thought we were growing closer, whenever I shared some part of myself or whenever I showed my affections.