“Silence for Apollo’s chosen!” one of the priests called out. “Hear the Pythia!” The murmurs stopped. Somewhere in Delphi, a rooster crowed.
“It has been revealed to me that the lady Helen will not leave Delphi this day,” Eunike declared. “She will not go back to Sparta until it pleases Apollo to bless her return. This is how it must be.” She lowered her arms. “Men of Sparta, who is your leader?”
The same soldier who’d witnessed my brothers’ leave-taking stepped forward. “I am, holy Pythia.”
“Hear me, then. You will lead your men home and tell the lady Helen’s royal parents what I have told you, that she will not come back to them until it is the will of the gods.”
The man bowed his head. “Yes, holy Pythia, I’ll do as you say, except…” He took a deep breath. “Great lady, when will they see the lady Helen’s return?”
One of the priests glared at the man. “You question the Pythia?”
My guard returned the priest’s scowl redoubled. “I have a daughter, and I know how I’d feel if she were taken from me. I’ve served Lord Tyndareus and his queen long enough to have seen how dearly they love their children. I ask this for their sake. If that’s an offense, let me be the only one to suffer for it.”
“Spartan, you are a faithful man; you commit no offense in questioning me,” Eunike said. “Tell the lady Helen’s parents this as well: that although it will be a year or more before they can hope to see their daughter, they will have frequent word from Delphi to comfort them. Let them be content with that.”
With that, Eunike turned her back on the crowd and faced me, holding her hands above my head. “May the all-seeing sun bless you in all your paths, Lady Helen, and bring you safely home.”
Later that morning, Eunike, Milo, and I stood in the gateway of Apollo’s shrine, watching my guards march away. They raised their spears to me in one last salute as they passed, and though some still looked a little dubious about the whole matter of leaving me behind, most of them were smiling. They believed that the gods had spoken. I was not supposed to be going with them, and that was that. They accepted this unconditionally.
When the last of the Spartans were out of sight, Milo murmured a few words to Eunike and darted back into the temple grounds. “Who lit a fire under him?” I asked.
“He has things to do.” She linked her arm in mine and drew me aside far enough to keep our conversation private from the gatekeeper. “He’s got to be ready for when you leave tomorrow.”
“Thanks to you,” I said, squeezing her arm. “Eunike, you were wonderful. Now there’s no way that my parents can blame those men for coming home without me. The Pythia foretold it.”
“I never foretold a thing,” Eunike reminded me. “Can I help it if people expect everything I say to be a prophecy?”
“Not even when you said it was revealed to you that I wouldn’t be leaving Delphi today?”
“So it was, just not by the gods. You told me you’d need one more day to prepare for your journey.” She winked at me. She was right. There wasn’t a single thing she’d said in the temple that morning that couldn’t be interpreted two ways. I wouldn’t be going home until at least a year had passed. My parents would have frequent news from Delphi; it just wasn’t going to come from me. And as for why I wasn’t going back to Sparta with my men, when the Pythia said, This is how it must be, no one demanded a more specific reason, because those words came from her lips. My friend controlled an awesome power. She’d used it to help me, but I thanked all the gods that she was too honorable to abuse it for herself.
“Eunike, you should serve Apollo and Hermes,” I told her. “How can I ever thank you for—?” I clapped my hands to my mouth: A sudden flash of revelation struck me. “The priests!” I exclaimed. “What about the priests? How can I leave for Iolkos tomorrow if they’re expecting to see me here, in Apollo’s temple, for at least a year to come?”
“Helen, I doubt your father has the power to punish Apollo’s priests for misplacing you,” Eunike said calmly.
“And who’ll have the power to comfort him and my mother once they find out that no one knows where I am?” I countered.
“Well, you can’t change your mind about going to Iolkos now—”
“I’m not doing that!” I cried.
“—even if you wanted to,” Eunike concluded. “It would make me look like a liar, even when both of us know I’m not. Apollo would not be pleased.” She planted her hands on my shoulders and steered me back through the temple gates. “Don’t worry about it. Prepare for your journey and leave the priests and their expectations to me.”
I’d seen how clever Eunike was; I decided to put my confidence in her. She would come up with a way for me to leave for Iolkos and stay in Delphi at the same time. I simply couldn’t imagine how she’d manage it.
That night, I dreamed I was standing beside her at the sun god’s altar once more. The temple filled with sparkling golden light, and Apollo himself appeared to us. I have heard your prayers, my Pythia, he said to Eunike. His divine voice shook me down to my bones. I will answer them.
He touched my head with a branch of laurel, and suddenly there were two Helens standing before the altar. My other self turned to face me, but before I could say anything she grabbed my arms and shook me violently, shouting in my face, You’re not Lady Helen! You never wanted to be Lady Helen! I’m Lady Helen! Say it! Say my name! Lady Helen! Lady Helen! I tried to ask her, Then who am I? but my tongue wouldn’t move. And still my other self shook me, crying out, Lady Helen! Lady Helen! until I realized that I was awake and Milo was standing over my bed, calling my name.