His blood chilled. How could she be so calm about the prospect of being torn apart? He wanted her to be afraid of death; to choose life. To choose him…
Going back to the village was harder than she could have dreamed.
Arriving alone, even if wearing only a tunic, had seemed a good idea at the time. Independence was far more important than appearances. But the looks on the faces of her former friends as she entered were horrified, filled with shock. And fear.
One child ran screaming.
They turned from her, making signs to ward off evil as she walked down the center path between stone buildings. Doors closed, and men who had lived and worked with her father held sticks threateningly. Confused and saddened, she skirted them as much as she could, making her way silently to her own home.
She had expected it to be empty. Instead, she heard a shriek as she approached. There was a blur of terrified activity. A woman—was it Mariana?—grabbed a small child and slammed the door. Kalliara could hear the bolt sliding home on the other side.
"Hello?" she called, cautiously knocking at the door. "Please, let me in! I don't want to hurt you!"
"Please go away," Mariana's voice called out in terror. Kalliara shook her head. She had known this woman all her life; why was Mariana so frightened?
"Please, I didn't mean to take anything of yours, but you're dead. You don't need this house anymore!"
"Well, I’m not dead any more," Kalliara said, feeling somewhat bemused.
Everything looked just as she had left it, yet it was all changed. "All I want is to collect some of my clothing."
"I saw you buried!" Mariana cried. Her tone rose, and a baby started crying.
"I saw your body after they found it below the falls. You're dead! This is my house now! Go away!"
"But—"
"You don't need this house! Go away!"
Kalliara stepped back, wondering what she should do now. She had expected people to be happy she was alive, not afraid. How many afternoons had she and Mariana spent visiting with each other? It hurt to think they would never laugh together again…
But Mariana was right. She didn't really need the house any more. Shewas dead. Or at least she had been, and would be again soon. And who better to have it than Mariana? The woman had been a widow for two years, living with her in-laws and barely scraping out a living. But it would still have been nice to see her home again, and collect some clothing.
With a sigh, Kalliara gave up and started walking away from the house. None of her clothing had been that nice anyway, and her old sandals were long gone.
She assumed Mariana had found her small hoard of coins behind the loose stone near the fire, or would eventually. It was just as well. She didn't need them anymore; Mariana would put them to good use.
As she walked, Kalliara felt sad and lost. She wandered through the small village, doors barred and shutters held closed against her. She was at the center forum before someone dared speak to her. It was Clotenis, the village priest. He wore his formal robes, and carried his staff of office before him in one hand, the entire assemblage slightly askew. Clearly, he had pulled the unusual garb on quickly. Before him, he held an amulet of Dionysus from the village temple.
"Stop, unnatural one!" he cried out dramatically, waving the amulet. "I command you in the name of Dionysus to return to the underworld. You have no place here."
"Dionysus is the one who brought me back," she said wryly. She stopped to face him, putting both hands firmly on her hips. This was getting out of hand.
"I didn't exactly choose this."
He looked startled. A small crowd gathered behind him, watching the showdown intently. Kalliara had to bite back a burst of laughter. How silly they all seemed, terrified to look her in the face. Too bad they hadn't shown her such consideration during her life—she could have used more customers for her small business. For one brief moment she was tempted to wave her arms wildly and jump about, just to scare them. But she bit back the impulse. After all, before her death she might have been afraid of someone back from the dead, too.
"I don't want to hurt you and I'm not a ghost," she said, trying to calm their fears. "The god brought me back for his own purposes. I won't be here long, but I wanted to come and say goodbye. I also wanted to get some new sandals and clothing," she added hopefully.
They stared at her as if she had gone mad, and she sighed in annoyance. Was it too much to ask that even one thing go right?
"We will give you clothing and shoes," the priest said, trying to maintain his dignity. "But after that I will banish you."
She burst out laughing. This was too much.
"How exactly do you plan to banish me?" she asked. "Are you planning to kill me again? Because in a way, that would be doing me a favor…"
His jaw dropped, then he pulled himself together. He looked so ridiculous that she found it hard to believe that she had held this same man in awe for so many years. He had always seemed dignified and important. Now she saw him for what he was—a silly little man, drunk on the small portion of power that came from being priest of this village. It was pathetic. Pitiable, even.
He pulled himself together.
"I will use my powers as Priest," he said, his voice ringing out. The people around him nodded, believing his every word. Had she ever really been one of them, she wondered? It seemed as if her old life was completely foreign. With a wave of insight, she realized that death had changed her in many ways…She was a new person now.
"I just came back to get some clothes and new sandals," she said, sighing.
"And I wanted to say goodbye. To give away my things…"
"I didn't mean to steal your house," Mariana said, stepping forward out of the crowd. She clutched her baby to her, refusing to meet Kalliara's gaze. The woman was clearly feeling guilty, but Kalliara was slightly impressed she’d gained the courage to leave the house and confront her. Perhaps she wasn’t a complete ninny. "But you were dead. We buried you, you were gone. I didn't think it would hurt anyone if I moved in."
"No, it's all right with me," Kalliara said. This was getting tiresome.
"Consider it yours, with blessings from Athena. But can I please have a couple of my dresses back?"
The priest cleared his throat, about to speak again. But before he could, there was a commotion. Irenia, an older woman Kalliara had known all her life, pushed forward.
"I'll take care of the girl," she said, boldly walking toward Kalliara. She gave a sigh of relief; at least one of her old friends would still speak with her. "She may be dead, but I was there when she was born and I washed her body after her death. I'm not afraid of her."
With that, Irenia grabbed Kalliara's arm and pulled her past the crowd. They started walking briskly toward the village outskirts, where the older woman made her home. A burst of startled conversation had broken out among those left behind. Irenia was going to be the target of gossip for a long time, Kalliara thought to herself.
"Thank you for being willing to help me," Kalliara said as they moved away from the small crowd.
Irenia stopped walking, turning to look at her. The woman’s wrinkled, homely face holding a strange expression.
"I don't know if it's really you or not, child," she said, her voice quiet.
"I saw your body. You were pounded on the rocks something terrible. I don't see how you've come back."
"Dionysus brought me back," Kalliara said, patting Irenia's hand gently. She suddenly felt incredibly tired. "He has his reasons, but I don't fully understand them. I believe I'm going to die again at the end of the month."
Irenia stared at her.
"How can you be so calm about this?" she whispered. "You sound as if you don't care—the dying, the coming back. And what's this about dying again?