Megara: Ancient History

Old Friends

When we leave Argos, our arms are full, and we only have one more stop to make. I'm used to carrying my own weight, but technically, all of these things are Ethos's weight, and I'm exhausted and angry by the time we cross the threshold of Leander's.

Leander's is an eatery overlooking the Mediterranean, and anyone who's anyone comes here. I'm not anyone, so I've only come here when I need to find someone who is. And that's exactly why we're here now. The brightest stars sit at the tables on the veranda, laughing loudly when the highest waves send mist over their plates, and the rabble just hoping to get a look at them crowd the rest of the establishment. I have to shove my way through them to get to the counter where Leander is leaning carelessly, and he doesn't even raise an eyebrow when I drop my hoard of treasures onto the counter.

"Tell me he's here, Leander."

"If he's not, you're gonna regret buying all this." He lifts a coil of rope out of the pile and drops it for a more interesting piece- a metal claw. "What's a girl like you doing with this?"

"As if you haven't seen me with worse. Is he here?"

Leander drops the claw and lazily looks over at the center table of the veranda. I look back at Ethos. "Wait here."

Getting through the crowd is easy now that I've dropped all that stuff off at the counter, but getting Cyril's attention is nearly impossible. He's used to beautiful women falling into his arms, so I don't blame him for ignoring me.

But, as I said before, if there's one thing a man might care more about than a beautiful woman, it's his gold. So I flip a coin over in my hand, snatching it out of the air just before he can. That's when he finally looks over at me.

"Megara," he says in surprise. Of course he's surprised- last time he saw me I was crawling out a mud pit.

"Look, I don't care what you think about me. I have money and I need an Olympian chariot."

Cyril stands up, the corner of his mouth lifting. "No need to be so cold," he says, looking down at me, stepping closer.

No matter how much I miss him being close to me, I miss money more, so it's fairly easy for me to step away and glare at him. "Sorry, Cyril. I'm just here on business."

"That's too bad," he says, sinking back into his chair. I hear the sighs of delight from the girlish crowd behind us, enraptured by his every move. "I hear you're haunting Thessalonica these days."

"Well, you'd be wrong. Do you have an Olympian chariot or not?"

"How much money do you have?"

"How much do you want?"

Cyril smiles. That's the kind of bargain he's eager to accept. He gets up again and starts weaving his way through the crowds. His fans part before him, but I have to shove my way through them to keep up.

"Ethos," I call as we pass by. "This way."

Cyril is halfway to the stables by the time Ethos and I make our way through the people.

"That's Cyril of Athens!" Ethos whispers to me.

I roll my eyes. I forgot that some people get distracted by the glory and fame. "Yup. A real prize."

"He's the greatest chariot driver in all of Greece."

"I'm aware."

"What, you're not impressed?" Ethos says, adjusting his grip on the armload of things.

"Not anymore."

Cyril is already in the back of one chariot when we get in the stable, leaning flirtatiously against the railing. When he sees Ethos behind me, though, he stiffens.

"Oh, I see you've brought a friend along."

"I don't have any friends," I quip. I motion to Ethos. "Cyril, this is my business associate."

"You're the one with the money, then," Cyril says. He gives me a smug look. Oh, I could rip his head off for that look. But hey. If it makes him feel better that I'm just as broke as I ever was, then bully for him.

"We need a chariot. Something strong. And fast," Ethos says.

I snort. Every chariot has two goals- to be the strongest and the fastest. Way to narrow down our options, Ethos. As usual, I'll be the one doing the bargaining here. "We need to get up steep hills and over rocky terrain."

"An Olympian chariot, then?" Cyril asks.

"That's what I told you."

He narrows his eyes on me for a second, then looks at Ethos. "An Olympian chariot isn't cheap."

I cut in, even though he's not facing me. "If I wanted cheap, I wouldn't have come to you."

Ethos steps closer, regaining Cyril's attention. "Name your price."