“How did you guess?” I mirrored her smile.
“I never guess,” Eunike said with mock seriousness. “I’m the Pythia.” She squeezed my hand. “And I like you. You’ve set your heart on this exploit. I doubt I can persuade you to change your mind. I think it would be an insult for me to even try. So instead, I promise to help you. What do you need?”
“Nothing much,” I said. “Just Apollo’s blessing. What can the all-seeing sun do to give us a successful departure from Delphi?”
“Isn’t that the whole purpose of your disguise?” Eunike waved her hand at my overall shabbiness.
“This is to hide my identity once we’re on the road,” I replied. “I could escape the temple precincts and the city in my own clothes, if that were all I wanted to do. Simply getting out of Delphi doesn’t have me worried half as much as what might happen here after I go. I don’t want anyone who’s left behind to suffer on account of what I’ve done.”
“Who’d suffer?”
“My guards, first of all,” I said. “Castor and Polydeuces gave them their orders in detail before they went off with Prince Jason. They’re supposed to bring me back to Sparta tomorrow morning, shielding me by sea and land. They’ll come here at dawn and send the gatekeeper to fetch Milo and me. What do you think will happen when he comes back to tell them that we’re gone? They’ll pull this place apart stone by stone, searching.”
“You’re exaggerating. They wouldn’t dare touch Apollo’s shrine,” Eunike said.
“Maybe not the buildings, but they’ll have no qualms about touching the people. If no one can tell them where I’ve gone, they’ll keep knocking innocent people’s heads together until they find out or run out of heads! Panic makes people go mad.”
“Panic? That’s not a word I’ve heard applied to trained, experienced Spartan soldiers,” Eunike remarked. “Are they guards or geese in a thunderstorm?”
“Guards; the guards who’ll be punished for my sake,” I replied. “If Father doesn’t have them fined or beaten or banished for losing me, they’ll still have to live with the shame of having failed him. They’re good, loyal men, and I can’t ask them to bring my parents word of the tragedy in Calydon and that my brothers have gone off to the world’s end and that I vanished while in their care! I need to know they won’t be blamed. Please, Eunike, can Apollo let you see that future for them?”
“My prophecies come to me according to Apollo’s will.” The Pythia sighed. “I’m sorry, Helen, but no matter how rich an offering you bring, it’s not like ordering a potter to make you a jar that’s just the size and shape you want it to be.”
“I know.” My shoulders slumped. “I was only hoping that just this once…Oh, Eunike, I have to find a way around this! I don’t want my men to harm your servants or be punished for my disappearance, and above all, I don’t want my parents to suffer for one moment on my account.”
“You’re asking for a lot, Helen,” Eunike said gently. “Are you begging me for a prophecy because you’re worried about all of those people, or is it something else? Are you having second thoughts about this quest of yours?”
“I want to go to Iolkos,” I repeated with passion. “To Iolkos, and from there to Colchis, and wherever Prince Jason’s ship sails! I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything. This may be the last time in my life that I’ll have the chance to see the world, to decide to take this road and not that one, to choose whether I walk, or go lumbering along in an oxcart, or ride, or even fly! I know it’s going to be dangerous, but so is having babies, and everyone expects me to do that someday. But if there’s no way for me to reach Iolkos except by hurting my parents and the rest, then I—I won’t go.”
Before Eunike could respond, Milo sprang up, eyes wide with apprehension. “Someone’s coming! Lady Helen, quickly!” He grabbed my hand and pulled me down to kneel beside him at the Pythia’s feet. “Keep your head bowed,” he muttered. “Whoever comes, don’t look him in the eye.”
I did what Milo told me, fixing my eyes on the tiles. I heard footsteps come shuffling closer and a piping, aged voice calling to the Pythia, asking for permission to enter. She gave it, and the footsteps grew louder. I glimpsed the embroidered hem of a priest’s robe out of the corner of my eye.
“Holy Pythia, an embassy from the king of Thebes is here to see you,” the priest said. I recognized his voice: He was the good-natured old man who’d carried Eunike’s fly whisk. “Will it please you to greet them now?”
“Have them wait for me at the main altar,” Eunike said. “I’ll see them as soon as I’ve finished with these two.” I saw her point one foot at Milo and me. “They’ll be fetching me some things from the town, and you know how it is with boys: They don’t pay attention. I have to repeat everything at least four times before it sticks to the straw between their ears.”
The old priest chuckled. “Ah, just like I was at their age. The world was filled with so many captivating things, each one much more interesting than my responsibilities. Isn’t that so, lad?”
I watched in horror as his brown wrinkled hand reached down and cupped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes were bright and clear, with none of the clouding that sometimes blurs the vision of the old. I had nowhere to hide. I could only look up and shiver as I saw how drastically his expression changed the longer he looked at me. The friendly smile dwindled, rapidly replaced by a look of shock and disbelief. He’s recognized me, I thought. Farewell, Iolkos! I’m doomed.