In that instant, a happy inspiration struck me with the force of one of Zeus’s own thunderbolts: Why can’t I? I found an unripe acorn lying on the ground beside me and flicked it at Milo.
“All right,” I told him. “You win. You can stay with me.” A look of utter relief spread across his face until I added, “But I win too. You’re going to go with my brothers.”
“But how can I do that if—?”
“And so am I.”
Milo and I went back to Delphi, back to Apollo’s shrine. While Milo waited in the portico outside my room, I dove into the baggage my brothers had left behind. It didn’t take me long to find enough clothing for the trip ahead. Castor and Polydeuces were traveling light and had taken their newer garments and their best sandals, but I was still able to scrounge up a couple of tunics, a spare loinwrap, and the much-used pair of sandals that Castor had abandoned. Leaving the sandals aside, I spread a spare blanket from my own chest on the floor and on top of it laid out all the things I’d taken plus the riding garment Atalanta had given me. When the clothes were in place, I fetched the spearhead from the great boar hunt from my own chest. I placed it at one edge of the blanket, then rolled the whole thing up and tied it with leather lacings.
Before I hid this package back in my chest, on top of my sword, I had to dig out the tunic I’d worn on the boar hunt. I’d kept it at the very bottom of my traveling chest, folded inside a cloak. It still stank of blood and sweat. When would I have had the chance to get it cleaned? I was lucky that the smell hadn’t gotten into the rest of my clothes. But it didn’t matter now. In fact, it was a good thing, adding to the illusion I was building. I exchanged my dress for that reeking garment, clubbed back my hair, smeared my face with a dab of olive oil from the clay lamp on my table with a little dirt from the floor mixed in, then decided to add an extra touch of soot from the lamp’s blackened wick. I had a passing worry that I might have overdone the whole business of hiding my face with a mask of grime, but I shrugged it off. More’s better than less, I thought. And safer.
I stuck my head around the doorpost and softly whistled to get Milo’s attention. “Well, what do you think?” I asked. “Am I ready to go see the Pythia?”
“Lady Helen, why did you have to change yourself like that?” Milo asked. “Why couldn’t you just go to see the Pythia as you really are? It would be easier. No one would stop you.”
“I don’t care if I’m stopped, just if I’m recognized. I need to test this.” I indicated my filthy new appearance. “If I can’t reach the Pythia without someone saying, Look at the crazy Spartan girl, running around Apollo’s shrine dressed like that! then I might as well go home.”
“But if they think you’re a grubby boy it’ll be all right?” Milo asked dubiously.
I grinned at him. “Now you’ve got it.”
He still wasn’t convinced that I’d made a good plan. “Maybe I should try to bring the Pythia here to see you, Lady Helen,” he said. “Even if you can pass for a boy, you look too grubby for anyone to believe you’ve got an audience with her. What if one of the priests thinks you’re a beggar and throws you off the temple grounds before you find her? You might not be able to get back in, looking like that.”
“You worry too much, Milo,” I told him.
“Lady Helen, wait!” he called out as I turned to go. He thrust the water jug into my hands. When I gave him a questioning look, he said, “If you look like you’re running an errand for your master, no one stops you. They look at you, but they don’t see.”
His inventiveness left me openmouthed with admiration. “Milo, that’s brilliant.”
He blushed at the compliment. “It’s no great skill to be invisible in a palace.” He folded the blanket from my bed so that he’d have something to carry as well, and we left.
Between my new appearance and Milo’s ruse, we found Eunike without any of Apollo’s priests or servants challenging us. She was just coming out of a room at the very back of the temple when we spied her. Milo was right, it would have looked suspicious if someone as dirty as I dared to approach the holy Pythia. That was why he scampered up to her and fell to his knees, holding out the blanket as if it were something she’d sent for. Eunike had a quick and clever mind. She recognized him immediately and pretended to inspect the folded cloth, giving the two of them the opportunity to exchange a few swiftly whispered words.
Abruptly, she straightened up. “You useless thing, I asked for a brown blanket. Bring it to my room at once and don’t you dare to dawdle!” She turned on her heel and strode off, leaving Milo to scurry back to me.
Milo knew where Eunike’s room was, thanks to the short time he’d spent among the temple servants. They didn’t want to have him wandering lost, so they’d taught him how to find his way everywhere within the shrine walls. He had no trouble bringing me there. It was a small, neat chamber tucked away in an obscure corner of the temple precincts. The kitchen herb beds were within sight of her door. When we entered, the pungent fragrance of rosemary, basil, and bay leaf followed us.
I couldn’t help looking around doubtfully at the undecorated walls and floor, the plain red-clay water jug and cup on the table, the patternless blanket on the bed where the Pythia now sat regarding us. Four large, painted wooden chests lined up against the walls provided just a touch of fading color. The only luxuries were a splendid bronze mirror and the alabaster pots holding the kohl and carmine to paint her lips and eyes, all sharing space with the homely cup and jug on the table. I’d expected something more extravagant, a setting worthy of the Pythia’s divine gift.