Megara: Ancient History

Megara Works

I'm just trying to make my way in the world, and I'm trying not to make my way into hell.

It's a fine line.

Things aren't easy for a lady in Athens, or anywhere else for that matter. Some people are fine with mediocrity, but not me, honey. I've got places to be and people to swindle. That's how I find myself walking into Apollo's Cellar, some rundown, no-good eatery with an even more rundown repertoire of people.

I've got one mission here, and that's to leave richer than I came. It's easy, when men are as cross-eyed as they always are. Sway your hips and they never notice their money bag missing. A girl's got bills to pay, and hips to sway, so I work my way through the Cellar, as if it's any other day.

But then I see him. He's sitting at the counter, the one man whose eyes aren't on my lucratively alluring neckline. He's staring into space, and that's why I know he's different. But he's also got a stack of gold coins lined up in front of him. And that's why I walk over.

"Hey big guy," I open, leaning against the counter. The coins are temptingly close, but I don't even look at them. If there's one thing that a man might possibly care more about that hooting and hollering at me, it's keeping my hands off his gold.

Even when I talk to him, he doesn't look up at me. I try a different approach, leaning my elbow against his shoulder. "You look like you need a long day in the Laconica baths."

Only then does he break his stare from nothingness and look over at me. But his gaze doesn't drop any lower than my eyes, and I get lost for a second in his. There's a depth of fire in them. Nothing like the drunken, stumbling stupor of the cellar's usual crowd.

"The baths couldn't fix this. Apollo himself couldn't fix this."

He gets up, scooping the money into one hand and leaving the counter. He heads straight for the door, and I, for some reason, follow. I tell myself it's because I've already conned enough money out of the rest of the patrons, which is true, but maybe it's really because I can't walk away from a challenge.

In this case, the challenge is walking away from me, and I run to catch up.

"I'm not Apollo, but I'm pretty handy," I say, hand on my hip as I walk in step with him.

He glances my way, for the first time taking in my whole get-up. The dress, the tall ponytail, the bracelets. It's not your average toga, that's for sure.

"Unless you know anything about climbing Mount Olympus, I don't think you can help."

He stops, and I put one hand against the nearest tree, cocking my hip. "What's on Mount Olympus?" I say. "Apart from the gods."

He smirks at me. "Redemption."