I bolted after him, leaving Herakles calling after the two of us. Hylas and I had the advantage in that race. The trees grew close together, making it easier for us to slip through them than for the broad-shouldered Theban. I saw a clearly marked trail where my friend had broken the thinner pine boughs. It led upward, a steep route that finally ended at the very top of the island.
I emerged into the clearing at the rocky summit and found Hylas kneeling beside a pool of water fed by a bubbling spring. I came closer and saw that the fresh water welled up very near the edge of the cliffs on the island’s far side. A glance over the crag showed no narrow curve of beach below, no sign of the Argo or her crew. The straight drop down was raw rock, the handiwork of Poseidon when the sea lord earned his title Earthshaker.
“Hylas,” I said quietly, not wanting to startle him so close to the precipice.
His eyes were wet. “What do you want?”
“I don’t want Herakles,” I said. I heard the noise of the Theban hero’s pursuit drawing nearer. It sounded like he was tearing down half the forest. I had to speak quickly to have my say before he reached us. “And if he wants Glaucus, he wants a ghost. I’m not what he thinks I am. My name is Helen.”
Hylas’s perfect mouth fell open. “You’re a girl?” He leaped up, grabbed my arms, and stared at me from head to heels, as if seeing me for the first time. “Why tell me this?”
“Because I trust you,” I said. “And because I want you to know there’s no way I would ever take Herakles from you, even if I could. Hylas, can we please step away from this spring? The ground’s slippery, and it’s too near—”
He wasn’t listening. “But why are you here, on the quest for the Fleece? Is Milo your lover? Are you both running away from—?”
“There you are!” Herakles was out of the forest and upon us with astonishing speed. Hylas gasped and let go of me, then took a step back, into the spring. His foot slipped on a moss-covered rock. One moment he was beside me, the next he was plunging down the cliff face to the wave-beaten rocks below.
It was over in a lightning strike. I couldn’t even call out his name. It was all I could do to keep my own balance when Herakles shoved me aside to stare aghast into the churning sea. “Where is he?” he howled at the waves, the wind, the sun. “Where is Hylas?”
I ached, speechless with grief. I wanted to say something to comfort him, but I couldn’t find the words. It hurt too much to speak my lost friend’s name. I admit I was also afraid. Herakles’ face was twisted with anguish, and when he abruptly turned to confront me, his eyes burned with a beast’s unreasoning rage.
“Where is he?” Herakles repeated. There were little flecks of white at the corners of his mouth. “What did you do with him?”
“I—I didn’t—” I forced myself to breathe and cautiously reached for my sword. “You saw what happened, how he stepped into the water and—”
“—they stole him.” Herakles’ voice dropped to an awestruck whisper. His gaze wandered back to the spring. “They saw how beautiful he was, and they stole him from me.” Without warning, he pushed past me, fell to his hands and knees, and began roaring at the water, “Give him back! Give him back to me!” He was still shouting his insane demands and beating the surface of the pool into foam with his fists when I turned and ran back down the trackless hillside to the beach.
I was sobbing when I got to the shore. Milo was the first to reach me, followed closely by Argus, but I felt too wretched to speak to them. Jason and the rest of the Argo’s crew gathered around us to learn what was wrong. Tears blinded me. I didn’t care that my brothers were standing right there, getting a long, close look at me through sober eyes. Iolaus offered me a filled water-skin. I took a deep drink, then choked out an account of what had happened. When I finished, I waited for Jason to give the order for a search party to climb back to the top of the island and fetch Herakles.
I waited for nothing. “We’re leaving,” Jason said. “Now.”
“Leave now?” Iolaus echoed. “You’re joking! Abandon my uncle, the best warrior we’ve got? You’re crazy!”
“I’m not,” Jason replied evenly. “He is.” His gaze swept over the massed crew. “We all know that this isn’t the first time Herakles has lost his mind. The same singers who carry the stories of his exploits also tell about how Hera struck him with such an awful attack of madness that when it finally lifted, he found he’d slaughtered his own wife and children.”
I was horrified to hear this, and more so when I looked at Iolaus’s grim expression and understood it was true. It was old news to all the others, who stood muttering hasty prayers for the gods to keep such dire things far from their own lives.
“Men, I can’t deny Herakles’ strength any more than I can deny his insanity,” Jason went on, his voice smooth as newly churned butter. “He may be a great hero, but I say that so are all of you. I refuse to risk your lives by sending you after him. He’s Zeus’s son. Once the madness leaves him, he’ll find his own way home.”
Flattered, the others were eager to agree with Jason’s plan. Iolaus was not. “You’re dropping flowers on a dunghill, Jason, and you know it. The only reason you’re marooning my uncle here is revenge. You can’t forgive him for hurting your precious pride last night!”
Jason’s lips curved into the smallest sliver of a smile. “Stay with him if you like, Iolaus, you and your servants. I won’t stop you.”
“I’ll stay and look after my uncle until he’s well again,” Iolaus answered. “I won’t ask that of the boys.”
“If you stay, they stay. I won’t have them on board the Argo without you.”
My fingers closed around Iolaus’s wrist. “We’ll stay,” I whispered. “Together, maybe we can heal Herakles sooner than—”