Aren't you already dead?"
"I don't feel particularly dead," Kalliara said, shrugging. "The rest is a long story, and while I'm happy to share it with you, I'd like to sit down and rest. It's been a rough day for me."
"I'll bet it has," Irenia replied, shaking her head. Then her sense of hospitality kicked in. "We'll get you some warm tea and talk all about it. And some clothes, too. That tunic you're wearing is beautiful, but it's hardly decent for a young woman of your age."
"I think I've forgotten what 'decent' is," Kalliara said. She laughed, startling herself. "You'd be surprised at what can seem normal after you've been to hell and back…"
Sabiniano paced his balcony, waiting for her to return. He had been in a foul mood all day. Why would she choose to walk to her human village barefoot, rather than accept his help? It was maddening. In his frustration he had roared at the nymphs and satyrs who served him until they trembled in fright.
Now all his people had fled into the forest. He knew they were whispering about him among themselves, that they would be watching him during the coming days for signs of weakness. Or madness. But he couldn't bring himself to care.
All he could think about was Kalliara.
The sun dipped low in the sky; soon it would time to go after her. Why had he been so foolish as to believe her excuses? For all he knew she been planning to escape even as she assured him she would return. After all, there were a number of fishing boats in the village. She would be a fool to believe that she could get away him, let alone Dionysus. But that didn't change the fact that she was still gone.
It was intolerable.
The sun was almost fully set now.
He turned, walking into the temple with a heavy heart. He hardly knew why he was so disappointed. He didn't know what he had expected, after all. It wasn't as if she were with him voluntarily. How could he have been so stupid as to believe her promises? Now it was time to take her back, teach her who ruled Naxos. He stopped, forcing himself to let the disappointment go. In its place was anger, an emotion he could understand.
An emotion he knew how to express.
He strode through his room out into the main temple, his anger building with each step. How dare she defy him? This washis island, and she washis prize. He had been foolish to give her even a limited amount of freedom. And he had been foolish to think he could convince her to abandon Athena and stay with him. He would take her, and at the end of the month he would keep her. His father may have decided she should die, but Sabiniano would talk to him. He had served for thousands of years. He had earned this one boon; Dionysus could hardly deny him…
As he strode out the door, a small gathering of his people watched from the forest edges. Normally there would be music in the air. The wine would be flowing freely. The festival was barely a week old, hardly started. It was time for revelry, yet he could hardly bear to look at them. If anything, they disgusted him. He wished he was lying between her clean, white thighs. There he would forget his boredom, his frustration. But she had left him.
The embers of anger flared to life, building within him.
Ignoring the trembling satyrs, he stalked purposefully toward the village.
Time to retrieve his woman. Around him, the wind rose. The white, fluffy clouds seemed to pull together, and in their center darkness grew. Within moments the sun was shaded. The woodland creatures shivered, crawling into their burrows, and a chill fell across the island. Sabiniano continued his steady walk toward the village. There was a rushing sound in his ears. His own blood. How dare she do this to him?
In the distance the Maenads caught his mood, and raised their voices in an eerie howl.
The wind built in speed as he moved, howling across the hills. Tree branches waved wildly. The dying sun was all but gone in the clouds, no more than a fading dim glow against the horizon. He would destroy them all, he thought darkly. The villagers would die, pleading for mercy. There would be none.
Sabiniano crested a hill, and could see the village in the distance. Above it stood the tower that guarded the small harbor, beyond which were the masts of their pathetic fishing boats. His fury grew. Had she tried to take one of those boats and leave him?
With a cry of rage, he raised one hand and the sky roared in answer. Thunder crashed, and a bolt of lightning flew down at his command, striking one of the masts. It shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. These humanswould pay for stealing his woman, he thought. Red fury swirled at the corners of his vision, and he laughed out loud. First he would destroy their homes, and then he would destroy them. No one took what belonged to Sabiniano and lived.
Chapter Nine
The wind made it hard to walk.
Her hair whipped around her face. Her clothing was soaked, and her face was scratched from the flying branches. Kalliara couldn't remember the last time she'd been in a storm so fierce, and her initial instinct had been to turn back. But she had to keep going if she was going to make it back and keep her promise—besides that, she was enjoying the storm in a way. It was so wild and free. With a startled laugh, she realized she had something in common with the outraged elements. She had nothing to lose anymore. She would live to return to the temple or the storm could kill her; either way, there were no secrets.
It had been so easy to lose track of time at Irenia's house. The small room had been filled with the warm comfort of a crackling fire. And after the first few questions, Irenia had seemed to realize that Kalliara didn't want to discuss it further, and respected her wishes.
Instead, after a few moments of awkward silence, they talked about Kalliara's mother. Irenia could remember the first day that the beautiful young priestess of Athena had arrived on the island. Her ship had dropped anchor in the harbor just ahead of a storm. Irenia was newly married at the time, but the elders asked to leave her husband and attend their guest. None of them wanted it to be said that Dionysus' people were less than hospitable.
The storm had raged for two weeks, longer than any in living memory.
At first Irenia had resented the sacrifice. After all, she had only been married a few months; she wanted to be with her husband. But that very first evening the two women from such different stations in life had become fast friends. It was Irenia who had introduced her to her future husband. And while the resulting marriage had been short, it had been very happy.
The visit had been all Kalliara could hope for, particularly after her earlier reception. The only awkward moment had come at the end, right as she was leaving. Irenia had looked deeply into her face and asked a question Kalliara couldn’t seem to shake from her mind.
“Child,” Irenia had asked. “Is it really worth it? Dying again? You’ve been given a second chance at life. You’ve paid your debt to Athena. Perhaps you should consider taking a different path this time. There’s a lot more to life than serving the goddess.”
“Are you suggesting that I betray her trust?”
“Would it truly be a betrayal?” Irenia asked in reply. “Your mother chose to follow Aphrodite. Athena continued to love her. She took you under her wing, after all. Perhaps the goddess doesn’t really want you to sacrifice yourself a second time.”
“My choice isn’t Aphrodite,” she said. “It’s Dionysus. I don’t think Athena would be half so forgiving of that betrayal.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Irenia said, pulling her close into a hug. Biting back tears, Kalliara left the small, warm home behind. It had been a wonderful visit.
But now she regretted staying so late. The sun had gone down, and now this terrible storm was brewing. She was having trouble walking upright against the wind, and she was very late. At the same time, the sheer force of the storm filled her with energy. Every raindrop that struck her face seemed to washing away her old life. All her former hopes and fears were gone; in their place was uncertainty, and a nagging longing. What would it be like to choose life?