Sparkling Ivy

37

The huntress, princess and man sat quietly at a table laden with delights. Jason picked at a spice-dusted bread, eyes fixed on his plate. Atalanta took long slurps of wine. Sirce just watched, thoughtlessly nibbling on a bitter apple. 

It had been like this for the past hour. Jason was planted in his spot, eyes vacant. His fingertips traced the spots of dried blood over and over and over. Atalanta shot Sirce a sideways glance, lips tugged downward. The huntress was cracking. Honestly, so was she. Sirce had never been tactful when faced with silence, Her lips always ached to break it, fill up the room with volume, if only to drown out the thoughts rushing through her mind. 

If only I could see inside his head. See what that mad woman did. Sirce hadn't known Jason for long but he didn't seem like the type to draw criticism. He was the one person who had welcomed Sirce and Atalanta, offered them some kindness. And he was certainly nothing like the man-posing monsters Sirce was accustomed to. What sort of creature could sour this man's being so badly? 

Jason slowly lifted his eyes as the princess took a loud bite of the fruit. "Sorry. You two must be bored, being cooped up in here."

Sirce and Atalanta glanced at one another. The boy pushed his glistening hair back, straightening in his seat. "Maybe I could show you around Callkis; I could use a distraction." 

"Yeah, that would be great." Sirce smiled, desperate to contain her eagerness. Finally. A chance. 

Jason smiled and rose from his seat, fingers rapping against the table. "Good. Let me get cleaned up and then I'll take you out."

Your break is almost over sunshine. Sirce's stomach curdled. 

Jason emerged from his chambers after half an hour. No trace of blood or scuffle; just pristine garments and rosy cheeks. He bowed his head with a charming grin and ushered the women out the door. 

Bright summer sunshine beat down on them, not a single cloud in view. The air was thick with the honeyed sweetness of pollen and fruit, mingling with an earthy richness Sirce couldn't put a finger on. This time there was no crowd of suspicious villagers, there was no crowd at all. 

"Let's walk, it's time you really saw this island." Jason outstretched a hand to the princess, blue eyes sparkling in the sunshine. Sirce blanched. She looked from the smooth hand to Atalanta and back again. Her huntress's lips were pressed firmly together but she made no objection. She couldn't. Don't look at me like that. Don't act selfless; I'll be a real asshole then. The subtlest of chin movements. Sirce sucked in a breath and took Jason's hand. 

He led them away from the villa onto a paved road. Here and there people mingled, adorned in the rich silks of the wealthy. Women waited anxiously by doors, undertook what their mothers had taught them to do. Weave, promenade and child-rear. Even a princess of Eila knew those lessons well. I wonder if they despise them as much as I do? Probably not. Sirce had an odd knack for cluelessness when it came to children. Even her mother had advised her to steer clear of raising kids. Then again, this was the same woman who had left the rearing of her only daughter to wet-nurses and wise women. 

She couldn't help but feel that hollow ache as she watched young mothers with their little ones, faces tender and bright. The children hollered with joy, tiny feet pitter-pattering around stone fountains and shallow fish ponds. And there the mothers chased and laughed and sang sweetly. They had a talent no one could diminish.

"As you can see, this is the upper quarter." Jason nodded politely to an elderly man hobbling past. "But I doubt there is much to see here. I thought you'd prefer the scenic route."

"I would."

"Perfect."

Jason tugged her to the right with a determined grin. Sirce couldn't help the smile that formed as they scampered down the alley, wind beneath their feet. It was narrow and stunk of horse piss and it reminded her of home. Really, any subtle 'city' stench was an odd comfort. Cloudy puddles formed beneath patches of sunken brick, black moss springing from the dried rock. 

Jason pulled her into a full sprint with a look that screamed, Let's see how far I can push her. In any other circumstance she would have accepted without a thought. But something far more important was behind.

Sirce let her hand slip, slowed her steps until a warm shoulder brushed her own. Atalanta's eyes flickered. Their fingers touched for only a moment. We stick together. Huntress and princess against the world. Well, some of the world. And a few gods. And-

You're a fool. Leave her. She is hardly any use.

 Sirce shook her head, bared her teeth like a lioness. Atalanta's jaw clenched and she managed a small flick of the chin. Sirce chuckled, head thrown back a little as she panted, "Bring it on Jason. Bring. It. On."

Sirce pushed her strides into long, swooshing leaps, soles of her feet beating down against the hot path. She was trained in more than weaving. Atalanta matched her pace, somehow gaining even more traction as they staggered like mountain goats across the uneven tiles and traces of muck.

Jason smirked. "You don't even know where I'm taking you!"

"I'm sure we can figure it out!" 

Sirce felt her lungs expand fully for the first time in months, throat gulping down fresh, horrid, lovely air. Her body felt weightless as the trio scampered down the slight decline of the hill. Her tongue was touched by summer sweetness and Sirce's hair whipped behind. 

In the myths she would take Atalanta's arms and race toward an awaiting sun chariot, their future a distant hope of bliss. The hero would get the happy ending and the girl and eventually written into the stars. Well, that or something inexplicably and horribly shocking would make everything they'd worked toward come crumbling down. 

Sirce hoped for the former. Hoped that maybe somehow Alcmene had her ending sorted out. But as the princess knew all too well, Victory didn't give a fuck about her. In fact, he really seemed to hate her as he sent a dishevelled girl barrelling into Sirce. 

"Arrghh!" 

Sirce was thrown on her back with a thud, arms extending just quick enough to stop her head from smashing into the ground. "Sirce!"

Jason's voice shook as he and the huntress hurried to her side. What the fuck. Thick leaf-sprinkled hair smothered her as a body fell on top of her. There was a sharp hiss and green eyes fluttered open. 

"Get off her!" Jason seized the weight off Sirce's chest and tossed it to the side. The princess was still trying to draw breath as Jason helped sit her up, mouth agape. 

The girl laughed wetly, one hand pressed to her side as she struggled to her feet. "Trust me, the last thing I wanted to do was fall into someone's lap."

Abigale snorted, wiping blood from her mouth. The woman looked worse than Cain Ending. Her chiton was covered in dirt and grass stains, splattered with ruby in a few places. She was slightly hunched, arms wrapping around her chest. Gods. What happened? 

She was a fool. Alcmene's tongue was thick with bitterness. Sirce gulped down air, heart still racing as she looked over the woman who saved her from the sea. All that was there was utter madness. 

"Watch out stranger." The girl laughed roughly, eyes pinning Sirce down. "Jason is a fuck-head."