Medea removed the lid of the little pot and a cloying sweet smell fought the stink of burning tallow. She held it out to Hecate’s image and chanted words I didn’t understand, then set it down and turned to me. “Hecate is pleased. You can go now. Bring Jason. I’ll be waiting.”
I couldn’t get out of that hut fast enough. I shut the door behind me and stumbled over Medea’s telltale pottery shards in my haste to flee. I had no intention of fulfilling her command. I’d fallen in love with Hylas at first sight, but now I saw how different those feelings of mine were from Medea’s unhealthy fascination with Jason. She and I had both been attracted to a handsome face, but I’d seen Hylas as human, not as something I had to own. Which god had twisted her mind so badly? Not gentle Aphrodite, surely! I didn’t know much about love, but I was willing to wager all I had that Medea’s passion was something else. It was all-consuming, terrifying, and utterly unwilling to hear the word no. I wondered if her cold father had somehow taught her that the only way to hold on to what you loved was to embrace it so tightly that you crushed it.
I ran to find Jason. He had to be warned. I didn’t know where to start looking for him. Lord Aetes’ palace was huge. It was no use asking the servants for help, since none of them were likely to speak our language. I wandered through courtyards and passageways until I heard the faint sound of familiar voices, familiar words. I followed them to a large room strewn with bedding and the remains of breakfast. My own stomach rumbled as I watched some of the Argo’s crew picking over bits of bread and cheese while they talked.
I was overjoyed to spy Milo among them. He caught sight of me and came running to the doorway. “Glau—I mean, Hel—Atalanta, there you are! I—” He dropped his voice sharply so that no one else could hear him say, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” I said as I led him off. The other men catcalled after us, but we ignored them. “Listen, do you know where Jason is? I have to find him.”
“Lord Aetes gave him a fine room on the upper floor,” Milo said. “I’m not sure where, exactly. Let me help you.”
We had no better luck working together than I’d had on my own. When we finally agreed to give up the search, I told Milo about the night I’d spent in Medea’s disturbing company, and about the strange shrine to Hecate that was her den. “I guess I’d better let her know I failed to find Jason,” I said as we left the palace and walked past the outbuildings.
Milo tapped my arm. “It looks like she found him herself.” He motioned with his eyes.
Arm in arm, Jason and Medea came strolling along, laughing and talking as though they were old friends. Slaves and servants ignored them, but four Colchian guards shot disapproving stares. Medea noticed and spoke a few sharp words to one of them. The man turned white and ran.
“Ah! Atalanta!” Jason saw Milo and me standing there and waved us near. “You must see the marvel that Lady Medea’s just shown me.”
He gave her an adoring look so overdone that it wouldn’t have fooled a child. She devoured it. I’d done much the same thing to him earlier, when I’d diverted his attention with flattery about that leopard-skin trophy of his. Still, there was an important difference: I’d acted to divert his anger from my friend Argus. He was acting for no one’s benefit but his own.
“Of course she shall see it, if that’s what you want, Lord Jason,” she said, indulging him with a king’s title. “Follow me.” She released his arm reluctantly. There were little white finger marks where she’d clutched his flesh. In one agile maneuver, she shunted Milo aside, got a painful grip on my wrist, and raced away with me.
“I didn’t need you after all,” she whispered triumphantly, keeping us well ahead of the others. Her eyes sparkled with a wild light. “As soon as you were gone, Hecate spoke to me. She told me not to trust any other girl when a man’s love is the prize. You can save the rest of your lies. I left the shrine and found him walking toward me, a gift from Hecate herself! He’s mine now, mine always. Remember that.”
Well, that was fast, I thought. I wonder if Jason knows. I almost feel sorry for him. Medea might have the power to terrify the palace underlings with a few words, but Jason’s a free man, able to look out for himself. What’s the worst she could ever do to him?
Medea led us to another part of the citadel enclosure, a space set aside by a low stone wall. Three small shrines stood inside the little barrier. Two were no more than four pillars supporting the roof over a god’s image. The third boasted sturdy walls, gorgeous decoration, and everything it took to declare that this was the home of the king’s favored god.
An ancient priest dozed in the shade of the building as Medea led us inside. She dropped my hand and reattached herself to Jason before announcing, “This is Ares’ shrine. My father worships the war god above all others. Every year, when the spring rains bring the gold down from the mountains, he dedicates one fleece to every shrine in Aea, but Ares alone has that.” She pointed dramatically.
I looked up at the wall behind the statue of Ares and saw a masterpiece of solid gold. It was the perfect life-size image of a ram’s pelt, including the head, horns, and hooves of the beast. Every detail, down to the smallest strand of wool, was etched into the soft, glowing metal.
So the Golden Fleece exists after all, I thought, breathless with wonder. The ram gazed back at me with enameled eyes the color of the sea.
“It was a gift from Phrixus, to thank my father for giving him refuge, a home, and a royal bride,” Medea said. She squeezed Jason’s arm. “Now it will be a gift of thanks from a bride to her beloved husband.”
Jason looked down at the Colchian princess and smiled. “Are you certain your father will part with it? After all, I’m already taking his best treasure with me when I go.” Medea giggled.