“Lady Helen, hurry, it’s almost dawn, it’s time!”
I sent him out of my room while I put on one of my brothers’ tunics. It wasn’t the foul-smelling one from the hunt; I’d decided to keep that in reserve for only the most dire emergency. I didn’t want to draw anyone’s attention on the road to Iolkos, and I’d realized that being too filthy might have just the opposite effect. I bound back my hair, tied on my sword, draped Castor’s old sandals around my neck, picked up my bundle of belongings, and was out the door.
We didn’t leave the temple precinct by the front gateway. Because Milo knew the grounds, I let him lead me to a place where the wall was low and a broken gardener’s wagon gave us just the bit of extra help we needed to scale it. Once over the wall, Milo guided me carefully through the dark, silent streets until we were clear of the city.
The road we took away from Delphi was easier than the road we’d scaled to reach Apollo’s sacred city. Our feet picked up speed on that downward slope. I smelled pine needles, which was nothing remarkable, but I also breathed in the scent of the sea. The longer we walked, the stronger it grew. That shouldn’t be: The sea lay south of Delphi, and to march to Iolkos I knew we had to take the northern road.
“Milo, are you sure we’re going in the right direction?” I asked.
“This is the way we need to go, Lady Helen,” he replied, looking back over one shoulder. “She’s waiting for us by the shore. She sent for me last night, after the two of you said your good-byes, and told me to bring you to her here this morning.”
I didn’t have to ask who she was. “Why?”
Milo shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve told you what she told me, Lady Helen.”
“Milo, we’re going to be traveling together,” I said. “Don’t call me Lady Helen anymore.”
“It would be disrespectful if I only called you Helen, my lady,” he said.
“It would be ridiculous if you called me Helen. I’m supposed to be a boy, remember? Call me Glaucus.”
“Yes, Lady—Glaucus,” he muttered. I could tell he wasn’t happy about it.
Happy or not, you’d better get used to it, Milo, I thought. We’ve got a long way to go, and this isn’t the road that’s going to take us there. What’s Eunike up to, I wonder?
She was waiting for us by the sea, standing beside the smoking embers of a driftwood fire. She was wrapped in a rumpled cape that looked like she’d slept in it. She must have sneaked out of the temple as soon as Milo left her and spent the night on the beach in order to meet us here at this hour. While we’d made the downhill trek from Delphi, the new day had come.
Eunike wasn’t waiting alone. A stocky, middle-aged man wearing only a loincloth stood on her left, his skin the same deep brown as his hair. On her right stood—
“Lady Helen,” Milo breathed, staring at the girl with Eunike.
At first glance, she did look like me as far as height, weight, and the color of her eyes and hair. She was dressed in the same elaborate gown I’d worn to Apollo’s temple, adorned with the same jewelry, her face painted with the same carmine and kohl. But if you didn’t allow yourself to be distracted by details, if you really looked at her, studied her closely, you could tell she wasn’t me.
“Who are these people, Eunike?” I asked, bewildered.
The Pythia beamed. “This good fisherman came to Apollo’s shrine years ago, to hear if his daughter here would recover from a fever. The god allowed me to give him good news. Since then, he’s felt that he’s in my debt, no matter what I say. He and his daughter come to honor Apollo every day, when he’s not out at sea, and never empty-handed. While you were in your room yesterday morning, preparing for your journey, I saw them in the temple and realized how closely this girl resembles you. It was as if Apollo himself was giving you the way to stay in Delphi and still seek a hundred Golden Fleeces!”
The fisherman stepped forward and raised his hands to me. “The holy Pythia told us what you need, great lady. I’ve sworn to keep your secret safe, and so has my girl. May Apollo destroy us both if we betray you.”
“You can’t do this,” I told him earnestly. “You can’t let your daughter masquerade as me. Think of what could happen to her if she’s discovered!”
The fisherman smiled awkwardly, avoiding my eyes. “Great lady, my girl’s all I’ve got, since her mother died birthing her. I don’t know what I’d’ve done if I’d lost her too, when that fever hit. When I serve the Pythia, I serve the god who gave her back to me, and the Pythia says she wants us to help you. Let us.”
“I won’t let anything happen to this girl, Helen,” Eunike said, stepping between the fisherman and me. “Not even if she’s found out.”
“What do you mean, if?” I said. “She might fool someone for a moment, but to pass as me for a year or more? One good look at her—”
“Who’ll bother doing that?” Eunike replied smoothly. “How often did Apollo’s priests pay any attention to you when you passed them on the temple grounds, let alone look at you? Even the servants never really saw you. You could be any girl at all to them, as long as that girl dressed like a princess.”
“And what if one of them has to speak with me?” I demanded. I turned to the fisherman. “Do you think your daughter can talk like a princess too?”
“Oh yes, great lady, yes, certainly.” He bobbed his head eagerly. “My Alkyone’s very bossy, when she wants to be.”