Megara: Ancient History

Change of Plans

It's midday when we reach Apollo's Cellar. The place is almost deserted right now. It's too early for the regulars to show up yet, but it still feels a little bit like home when we walk in.

I'm not nostalgic, but I am conniving, and if nostalgia has any pull on Ethos, I'll take advantage of it. Which is why I walk up to the counter, exactly where he sat the first time we met, and order a drink.

Ethos sits down, patting the counter fondly, and I know this nostalgia angle is gonna work in my favor.

The bartender is someone I don't recognize. He's rather squat, and red-faced, but then again, after spending any amount of time in the Cellar, who isn't? I order a drink for both of us. The bartender stays close by, which probably means we look like we'll need a refill.

"Alright," I say after I take the first drink. "Most of my fees are negotiable, but some of them are not. Guiding you to Rastus is fixed."

"Come to Mount Olympus with me."

"Anyone can find Leander's, but not everyone can get you into a private transaction with Cyril of Athens, so that's an extra charge."

"Megara."

"And guiding you to Fate's Hollow should be a debt of life, but I hate life debtors, so I'll cut your price in half, and maybe in a couple decades you can pay it off."

"Meg."

I freeze. I really look at him, maybe for the first time since we met here the other day. He... called me by name. By that name. No one calls me Meg.

"Come to Mount Olympus with me," he says, reaching for my hand.

I yank my hand away reflexively. No... I'm the one who reaches for hands, who caresses egos and invites men closer. Just close enough to take their money. But Ethos reaches further and grabs my hand.

"No, I just... I was just helping you," I say. "I don't want to climb Mount Olympus."

"I still need your help," Ethos contends. "I don't even know what direction to go once I leave the Cellar. You do. Don't you?"

Of course I do. Any idiot knows how to follow the path to the foothills. I pull my hand away. "Maybe you misunderstood my character," I say, straightening my shoulders. "But I'm strictly mercenary."

Ethos shakes his head. "I don't believe that."

For some reason, that hurts more than him believing I'm just some low-life, greedy, groveling snake. But I hold my ground.

"The girl who's braved Fate's Hollow twice? Who knows secrets about the richest men in Athens? Who will do anything to prove herself?" When I don't say anything, he gets to his feet. "Well then," he says, "Name your price," he says, eyeing me sadly. His hand reaches into his money bag, and for a second I almost convince myself that payment is all I want. But then I look in his eyes again, at those sad, piteous eyes. If there's one thing I hate more than not getting paid, it's being pitied.

I won't give him anything to pity me about.

"Actually," I say, standing up tall, "I will go with you."

His eyes change, and a triumphant smile works its way across his mouth.