Profession

Getting back

"Lys."

I grudgingly cracked an eyelid, saw that it was still dark, and burrowed my face in my pillow in outrage.

"Lys, come on." This time I recognized my sister's voice as I curled defensively. The nerve. I'd just started speaking to her again.

"Come on, Lys," she tried again. I flapped a hand in her direction. "We're all leaving in a couple hours, after breakfast. I need to take Demi to the temple. Will you come with us? Please?"

It was that last word that had me grudgingly getting up. She rarely said it. And the temple blessing was special, so I supposed I should attend, even though I was really tired. I could nap later. I supposed. Sensibly, she retreated while I dressed and got ready.

We met Grandma H, Aunt Antiope, and Diana at the main temple, where Menalippe and Penelope waited for us. It was unusual to see the two main oracles and high priestesses at the temple together; Penelope liked to to go out to the other temples, travel around the islands. We assembled quietly in front of the statues, and the priestesses prayed to the goddesses for blessings and insight for the child. Then Deri added her personal petition, including her own discomfort that a god should have blessed her daughter, descendant of the Amazons. The god touch flared to life around the oracles.

"My brother knows better than to try anything," a determined voice said, apple-crisp in the slowly warming morning air. "He just took... what do they call it in these days... a 'pot shot' at me. He does not mean to exert influence within the boundaries of the sacred isles. Besides, his gifts are beneficial. It would be a different matter, had Hades or Ares claimed her. It is also his attempt to attach himself to this bloodline. He has never had the opportunity thus far, and his muses have graced the daughter who is childless." Wow, smackdown of the gods.

"Bring your next-born to us directly," a stern motherly voice said. "And I will bless her myself. The first to bless and grant gifts has the strongest influence on a child."

"Usually," an amused, hearth-warmed voice said. "I defy Athena to say I have not had a strong hand in shaping the child we share between us."

The only response was a disgruntled grunt.

"Peace, sisters," Artemis said. "I will bless this child myself, since it is a concern of the mother. And it is fitting that one of us claim this displaced Amazon child." Penelope, hosting the goddess, reached forward, touching Demi's forehead and briefly placing her hand on her chest. Demi cried out, and Deri stiffened.

"May I ask what gifts the child has?" I asked deferentially. It always kind of bugged me that I could see the effect of blessings but not what they were.

"You may," Artemis said, and for a minute thought that she wasn't going to answer specifically, but she relented with a sniff. "Of the things that my brother could have graced her with, he has chosen to extend to her his tendency for protection: specifically, for the young which includes health and education, as well as in his other aspects as a healer and protector of crops, herds, and flocks." There was an indistinct grumble. "She could do far worse, sister. Do not the humans regard him as the most beautiful of the gods, important and complex?" She gently took Demi's little fist and turned the inside of the wrist up. "He has marked her to advertise his claim first," she said sourly. A little laurel wreath had appeared, dark and crisp like a new tattoo. "Competitive, he is. But I have given her a valuable blessing as well, athletic skill and tenacity. Suitable for hunts of all natures as well as other interests." I was impressed; this seemed more useful than being able to see the god-touched. Didn't say that, though.

"If I may ask, what was meant when you said that Apollo's muses graced the childless one?" Aunt Antiope said, puzzled.

Artemis nodded to me. "This one. Terpsichore brushed her with her inspiration for dance. Regrettably, she was injured past the ability to continue, and just when her full gift was beginning to flower. She could have gone far, although perhaps not to the pinnacle of her discipline." She studied me, and I tried not to frown. I still missed dance despite having replaced it with my love of rowing. "It is also known that the daughters of Apollo's son Asclepius are favorably disposed to her and will hear her prayers more often than most."