Piotr sat beside me, his head bowed with either shame or exhaustion. Or pain; I had pounded him pretty badly. His nose had swelled, although some of that might have been the tissues he’d shoved up his nostrils. I could already see black eyes forming. I imagined under all that hair he had some other bruises as well.
Opposite the table was a man named Nikolaus—Piotr’s father. He was serving us some coffee. The Greeks don’t do coffee well, in case you were wondering.
“I want to thank you again, Mr. Lenaios,” he was saying, for something like the tenth time. “Every night I feared . . .”
“Please, Niko, call me Greg.”
Nikolaus was aware of his son’s so-called curse and had been torturing himself about it for a while. This never translated into much more than praying for his soul nightly and twice on Saturdays, but it was all he knew to do.
Nikolaus stared off into the middle distance, and for a minute there I thought he was going to start crying again. It was shaping up to be a long evening.
“You are a godsend, sir,” he whispered.
I sighed. “Niko, what can you tell me about Piotr’s mother?” Because it turned out this was not going to be as easy as I’d hoped. I learned on our way over from the Gardens that Piotr’s mother had died in childbirth.
“Maria?” Nikolaus asked. “My Maria?”
“Yes, her. Did she have a large family?” I was crossing my fingers that at no point in the ensuing conversation would the word adoption come up. If it did, I was screwed. And, perhaps, so was Piotr.
Niko snapped back to reality. “I don’t understand the question.”
“Let’s start with her parents,” I said. “Are they still living?”
“Yes, yes . . . but . . . I have not spoken to them since . . . you see, they did not approve.”
Not a huge surprise. Not because Nikolaus wasn’t a prize; I’m sure he was quite handsome in his day. More along the lines of why a Jewish household has a problem with a Gentile in the family.
“But I don’t understand,” Niko said. “Now that my Piotr is cured . . .”
“It isn’t that simple,” I insisted.
“But . . .”
“Papa,” Piotr said, “I am still a Lykanthropos.”
“Son . . .”
Piotr rolled up his sleeve and revealed the ample body hair he’d developed in just the past few months.
Niko’s eyes darted between his child and me. “Then the curse is not lifted?”
“Great Zeus, there is no curse!” I exclaimed. Niko looked like he was about ready to begin a litany of Hail Mary’s. “Your son is different. Not cursed. Just very rare.”
I had seen this happen enough times to understand the psychology behind it. When Piotr hit puberty and discovered his body changed in quite a few ways differently than any of the other kids on the block, he looked for explanations. The only one that made any sense to him—and to his father, who I think had a hand in the whole idea—was that he was a werewolf. To that end, they were right. And since all they had going for them was the legends, like a werewolf was how Piotr behaved. By the time he ran into me, he’d gotten good at it.
The thing is, we all have a little animal in us, and if you ask us to, we can do a very good job of behaving like one. Hypnotize a guy and tell him he’s a bear, and watch him act like a bear. Nothing magical about it, just tapping into an older part of the brain is all. Piotr was lucky I’d reached him before he got too carried away. Usually, rogue werewolves end up shot.
Nikolaus worked through the problem in his head. This took a minute or two. “Rare? And you think this comes from Maria’s side of the family?”
“It would have to,” I said. “They can help Piotr learn to deal with his peculiar condition, and they can also help me.”
“How can they help you, Mr. Lenaios? Is there anything I can do?”
“Arrange an introduction, Niko. That will be help enough.”
Niko’s eyes fell. “I fear you will not find them hospitable.”
“Let me worry about that.”
* * *
From the dialogues of Silenus the Younger, text corrected and translated by Ariadne
DIONYSOS
SILENUS, DIONYSOS, AMBROSIA
DION. BEHOLD, MIGHTY SILENUS, I HAVE RETURNED FROM MANY GREAT TRAVELS TO FIND YOU STILL HALE AND HEARTY. HOW CAN THIS BE SO?
SIL. MY LORD, YOU SPEAK NOW TO SILENUS THE YOUNGER, WHOM YOU HAVE NOT MET PRIOR TO THIS TIME.
DION. THE RESEMBLANCE IS ASTONISHING. AND YET HARDLY POSSIBLE, FOR WHILE I DID DRINK MUCH WINE AND PARTAKE OF MANY WOMEN WITH SILENUS THE ELDER, AS YOU MUST CALL HIM, THAT TIME WAS THREE AND MORE LIFETIMES AGO. YOU MUST BE SILENUS THE VERY MUCH YOUNGER.
SIL. THE LIVES OF SILENII DO NOT CONFORM TO HUMAN STANDARDS, MY LORD DIONYSOS. IT IS INDEED TRUE THAT SILENUS THE ELDER WAS MY OWN FATHER, AND FURTHER THAT I AM MYSELF AGED BEYOND ONE HUNDRED SPRING TIMES. MY FATHER, SILENUS THE ELDER, DID PASS SOME FORTY WINTERS PRIOR, BUT YOU MAY SPEAK TO ME AS YOU WOULD HIM, FOR I BEAR ALL OF HIS KNOWLEDGE AS IT WERE MY OWN.
DION. YOU MEAN BY WAY OF ANECDOTE? SILENUS THE ELDER WAS VERY LONG IN TALE AND VERY SHORT IN FACT.
SIL. SILENUS THE ELDER LED A GREAT LONG LIFE OF MANY ADVENTURES TO WHICH I AM FAITHFULLY TRUE IN THE RECOUNTING.
DION. THEN IT IS TO BOTH OF YOU I WISH TO SPEAK.
SIL. WOULD YOU CALL FORTH MY FATHER FROM HADES ITSELF?
DION. I WOULD NOT. BUT I ASK THAT WHEN NEXT YOU UNBURDEN YOURSELF OF ONE OF HIS TALES, FIRST ARRAIGN IT FOR ITS WOEFUL INACCURACIES. THUS WILL SILENUS THE ELDER RECEIVE MY MESSAGE.
SIL. THE TALES OF WHICH YOU SPEAK WOULD BE THOSE THAT CONCERN YOUR OWN DEEDS?
DION. YES THOSE. ALTHOUGH I WOULD CALL INTO QUESTION ANY TALE PASSED ON BY SILENUS THE ELDER. FOR ALL WHO KNEW HIM KNEW OF HIS PREVARICATIONS IN THE INTEREST OF A MORE PREPOSTEROUS CONCLUSION.
SIL. TELL ME SOME OF THESE TALES YOU HAVE HEARD.
DION. BUT THERE IS NO NEED. THEY ORIGINATE WITH SILENUS, AND IF YOU SPEAK TRUTHFULLY AS TO YOUR DIRECT LINEAGE THEN THE TRADITION OF THE TELLING HAS PASSED ON TO YOU. REPEATING THEM WOULD SERVE NO GOOD.
SIL. I SEE. DO YOU AGREE THAT A TALE, ONCE LOOSED UPON THE WORLD, CAN TAKE AN EXISTENCE INDEPENDENT OF THE STORYTELLER?
DION. I DO. FOR MAN IS FAR BETTER AT MISAPPREHENDING THE THINGS BEFORE HIS EYES THAN ANY OTHER CREATURE.
SIL. THEN YOU MUST KNOW THAT THESE TALES THAT HAVE EARNED YOUR PROTEST MAY NOT BE THE SAME TALES THE SILENII HAVE SPUN.
AMB. I WILL SPEAK OF THESE TALES.
SIL. AND WHO ARE YOU, FAIR WOMAN?
DION. AMBROSIA IS MY CONSORT. SHE IS QUITE MAD, SO TAKE GREAT CAUTION.
SIL. IS THIS SO?
AMB. IT IS, I AM MAD, BUT ONLY WITH ECSTASY FOR MY LORD DIONYSOS.
DION. NO, SHE IS SIMPLY CRAZED. KEEP HER HANDS FROM THE REACH OF ALL SHARP THINGS OR YOU WILL NOT ENJOY THE SAME LONGEVITY AS YOUR FATHER. BUT AMBROSIA DOES HAVE GREAT AFFECTION FOR THESE LEGENDS.
AMB. IT IS TOLD DIONYSOS’S HUMAN MOTHER WAS SLAIN WHILE HE WAS STILL IN WOMB, AND SO DIONYSOS WAS INSTEAD NURTURED TO TERM IN THE THIGH OF HIS FATHER ZEUS. IT IS TOLD HE WAS HIMSELF MURDERED BY THE JEALOUS TITANS, CHOPPED UP AND SERVED IN A STEW TO HIS OWN FATHER, ONLY TO BE RESURRECTED. IT IS TOLD PIRATES ONCE TOOK HIM AS HOSTAGE AND SO HE TURNED THEM INTO DOLPHINS. IT IS TOLD HE INVENTED WINE, AND WANDERS THE COUNTRYSIDE HIDING FROM JEALOUS HERA AND TEACHING OF WINE MAKING. IT IS TOLD HE DROVE THE KING OF THEBES MAD WHEN THE KING DARED IMPRISON HIM, AND THEN THE KING’S WOMEN HE DROVE MAD ALSO AND THEY TORE THE KING TO PIECES WITH THEIR BARE HANDS.
DION. THAT IS ENOUGH.
AMB. BUT THERE IS MORE. THERE IS MIDAS.
DION. YOU WILL PLEASE STOP. YOU KNOW I DO NOT CARE FOR THESE TALES.
SIL. BUT NOW THAT I KNOW WHAT STORIES WE SPEAK OF, YOU MUST EXPLAIN TO ME YOUR OBJECTIONS.
DION. MY OBJECTION IS THESE ARE ABSURD TALES. AND WHEREVER I TRAVEL NOW, I AM EXPECTED BY ALL WHO KNOW ME TO ACT IN A GODLIKE MANNER.
SIL. AND HOW ARE THEY ABSURD?
&n
bsp; DION. THEY ARE UNTRUE.
SIL. AH, BUT IN WHAT SENSE ARE THEY UNTRUE?
DION. THEY DID NOT HAPPEN. IS THERE ANOTHER SENSE?
SIL. WHOSE TRUTH? BY THE WORD OF THE TALETELLER THESE THINGS ARE TRUE.
DION. ALL BUT ONE OF THESE STORIES WAS GIVEN TO SILENUS THE ELDER OVER MANY CONVERSATIONS FOLLOWING MANY MORE CUPS OF WINE. MOST ARE OLD LEGENDS ABOUT EVEN OLDER GODS WHOSE NAMES ARE DESERVEDLY LOST. I AM HE THAT SPOKE THEM TO YOUR ANCESTOR, AND I AM HE THAT THEY ARE NOW EMPLOYED TO DEFINE. THERE SHOULD BE NO BETTER SOURCE.
SIL. I SEE. DO YOU AGREE THAT STORIES SUCH AS THESE SERVE A PURPOSE?
DION. I SEE NO PURPOSE OTHER THAN THE OVER-FEEDING OF THE SPIRIT WITH FANCIFUL NONSENSE.
AMB. I AM ENTERTAINED BY THEM.
SIL. AH. AND ENTERTAINMENT HAS VALUE, DOES IT NOT?
DION. IF WE ARE ACCEPTING THE OPINION OF A MADWOMAN, THEN YES, IT DOES HAVE A VALUE.
SIL. WHAT OTHER VALUES HAVE THEY? WOULD YOU SAY THERE ARE LESSONS TO BE LEARNED?
DION. CERTAINLY. DO NOT ANGER A GOD, DO NOT TURN YOUR BACK ON A GOD, AND DO NOT HAVE INTERCOURSE WITH A GOD. THESE ARE NOT USEFUL LESSONS.
SIL. BUT DO YOU AGREE THAT MOST WHO HEAR THESE TALES ARE NOT GODS?
DION. I AGREE THAT NONE WHO HEAR THESE TALES ARE GODS.
SIL. AND DO YOU SUPPOSE FEW IN THIS LIFE WILL HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO MEET A GOD FACE-TO-FACE?
DION. I DO.
SIL. THEN ARE THERE LESSONS TO BE LEARNED FROM THESE TALES THAT HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH MEETING A GOD?
DION. THIS IS A MOST ANNOYING WAY TO CONVERSE.
SIL. I MEAN TO LEAD YOU TO UNDERSTANDING, FOR ONLY BY GUIDING YOU TO YOUR OWN CONCLUSIONS CAN KNOWLEDGE BE ATTAINED.
DION. AND THE UNDERSTANDING YOU WISH FOR ME TO REACH IS THAT IN SOME WAY THESE TALES, WHILE NOT BEING FACTUALLY ACCURATE ARE TRUTHFUL IN A SENSE THAT REACHES BEYOND MERE HISTORICAL ACCURACY.
SIL. THAT IS CORRECT. FOR KNOWLEDGE COMES IN MANY FORMS, MUCH AS DO GODS.
DION. I AM CONSIDERING A DIFFERENT APPROACH. I WISH TO LEAD YOU TO THE UNDERSTANDING THAT I DO NOT WISH FOR THESE TALES TO CONTINUE. TO ASSIST YOU, I AM CONSIDERING STRIKING YOU IN THE FACE WITH GREAT FORCE.
SIL. AND WOULD THE APPLICATION OF VIOLENCE LEAD ME TO TRUE UNDERSTANDING?
DION. THE DEPTH AND CONVICTION OF YOUR UNDERSTANDING IS OF FAR LESS CONCERN TO ME THAN THE APPLICATION OF YOUR UNDERSTANDING.
SIL. AH, BUT WHILE FORCE MAY BE THE PREFERRED METHOD OF THE GODS, DOES IT EVER TRULY SUCCEED? BY STRIKING ME IN THE FACE, WILL THIS ERADICATE THE TALES FROM THIS WORLD?
DION. IT WILL NOT. BUT I WILL ENJOY IT GREATLY. AND IN THE FUTURE, WHENEVER I AM ASKED FOR DETAILS REGARDING ONE FANTASTICAL HAPPENING OR ANOTHER, I WILL RECALL THIS MOMENT WITH FONDNESS. FOR I AM NOT A GOD, AND I DO NOT WISH FOR OTHERS TO KNOW ME AS SUCH.
SIL. AND YOU WOULD HAVE ME TO TELL THE TALE OF THE GOD DIONYSOS WHO IS NOT A GOD?
DION. YOU CAN CALL IT THE TALE OF THE GOD WHO IS NOT A GOD WHO MADE YOUR NOSE CROOKED ONE SUMMER’S DAY.
SIL. BEFORE YOU APPLY YOUR PERSUASIONS TO MY FACE, HOW DO YOU KNOW YOU ARE NOT A GOD?
DION. I KNOW I AM NOT A GOD BECAUSE I AM NOT A GOD AND I AM THE MOST LIKELY PERSON TO KNOW.
SIL. BUT YOU DO NOT AGE AS MAN DOES. IS THIS NOT SO?
DION. IT IS.
SIL. AND YOU DO NOT BECOME INFIRM WITH ILLNESS OR MALADIES OF THE MIND AND BODY?
DION. I DO NOT.
SIL. THEN YOU ARE MORE A GOD THAN ANY MAN.
DION. IF I AM A GOD, I AM A GOD WITH NO POWER OVER MEN, FOR WHOM A SWORD IS NO LESS DEADLY THAN TO ANY OTHER. IF I AM A GOD, I AM A WEAK GOD WHO DOES NOT WISH TO BE WORSHIPPED OR CHALLENGED. IF I AM A GOD, I AM A GOD WHO WOULD BE LEFT ALONE. AS THESE TALES DO SPREAD, SO TOO, DOES THE DARING OF THE MEN WHO WOULD CHALLENGE A GOD BEFORE THEM, WHICH IMPERILS ME.
SIL. AM I A MAN?
DION. YOU ARE.
SIL. AND WHAT IF I DID NOT WISH TO BE A MAN?
DION. IF THIS IS WHAT YOU WISH, I COULD STRIKE YOU LOWER.
SIL. CAN I SAY I AM NOT A MAN, FOR I WISH TO BE SEEN AS A GOAT INSTEAD?
DION. YOU CAN.
SIL. BUT WOULD THIS MAKE ME NO LONGER A MAN? WOULD I THEN BE A GOAT?
DION. I DO APPRECIATE YOUR POINT, BUT NEITHER GOATS NOR MEN ARE EXPECTED TO SURVIVE A BLOW FROM A SPEAR, WHILE GODS CAN BE SLAIN MANY TIMES OVER AND ARISE AGAIN.
SIL. MOST MEN LIVE IN FEAR OF GODS, AND THE TALES ABOUT WHICH YOU OFFER PROTEST DO ONLY SUPPORT THIS FEAR.
DION. YOU WISH FOR ME TO ENCOURAGE THESE TALES?
SIL. ENCOURAGE AND RESPECT THE TALES, AS DO THE OTHER GODS. FOR FEAR IS AN EXCELLENT DETERRENT.
DION. YOU SPEAK WITH THE FANCIFUL TONGUE OF YOUR PREDECESSOR. YOU HAVE NOT MET ANY OTHER SUPPOSED GODS.
SIL. DO YOU BELIEVE YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE ON THIS EARTH TO LIVE THE LIVES OF THOUSANDS, TO SHRUG OFF PLAGUE AND PESTILENCE, TO SHARE YOUR BOUNTY OF KNOWLEDGE WITH MAN?
DION. VERY WELL. OF WHOM DO YOU SPEAK? IS IT ZEUS IN A THUNDERCLOUD? APHRODITE IN THE EYES OF A CONCUBINE? I HAVE MET MANY WHO CLAIMED TO BE GODS THAT DID AGE AND QUICKLY BETRAY THEIR MORTALITY. AMBROSIA SPEAKS OFTEN OF BEING ARTEMIS WHEN SHE IS LESS LUCID.
AMB. IT IS SO.
DION. WHICH MAN OR WOMAN HAS CONVINCED YOU OF THEIR GODLINESS?
SIL. IN THE NORTHWEST REGION, AT A HARVEST FESTIVAL IN HER HONOR, I DID MEET DEMETER. SHE WAS LUMINOUS AND SPOKE OF GREAT BEAUTY WITH GREATER WISDOM.
DION. AND DID SHE OFFER PROOF OF HER GODLINESS?
SIL. SHE DID NOT NEED TO, FOR ALL WHO LAID EYES ON HER COULD NOT QUESTION THIS TRUTH.
DION. I DO NOT CONSIDER THIS PROVEN. I HAVE SEEN MANY BEAUTIFUL WOMEN, AND BEAUTIFUL BEINGS THAT WERE MORE THAN SIMPLY WOMEN BUT FAR LESS THAN GODS.
AMB. BUT DIONYSOS, ALLOW FOR SILENUS TO DESCRIBE THIS DEMETER FIRST.
DION. I SPENT MANY YEARS WITH SILENUS THE ELDER. I KNOW WELL, AND DISTRUST BETTER, THE SLIPPERY POETRY OF HIS KIND’S TONGUE. BUT I SHALL ALLOW FOR SOME ELABORATION.
SIL. AH, SHE WAS PALE AS THE MOON ITSELF. HIGH IN CHEEKBONE LIKE NONE I’D EVER SEEN PRIOR, WITH EYES THE DEEPEST BLUE OF THE SKY STOLEN FROM THE MOST GLORIOUS SUMMER DAY. HER BREASTS STOOD FIRM AND HER HIPS SWAYED GENTLY WITH EACH GLIDING STEP.
AMB. AND WHAT DID SHE WEAR?
SIL. A SIMPLE CHITON WITH INTERLAID GOLD THREADING, AND A COMB OF IVORY TO TAME HER WILD CRIMSON LOCKS.
DION. HAIR OF CRIMSON?
SIL. ASTONISHING AND BRIGHT, IT CURLED AS IF TO SHAME THE SERPENTS OF MEDUSA.
DION. CRIMSON, YOU SAY.
SIL. LIKE THE BLOOD OF A THOUSAND ARDENT MEN.
AMB. MY LORD DIONYSOS, A CHANGE HAS COME UPON YOU.
DION. I AM CONVINCED. SILENUS THE YOUNGER.
SIL. I AM HEARTENED. OF WHAT HAVE I CONVINCED YOU?
DION. THAT YOU HAVE INDEED MET ANOTHER GOD SUCH AS MYSELF. YOUR INTERPRETATION OF THE TALES OF DIONYSOS MAY CONTINUE.
SIL. YOU ACCEPT ALSO THAT THERE IS SOME TRUTH TO THE LEGENDS I SPEAK?
DION. I DO. AND I WOULD LIKE YOU TO REPEAT THEM. BUT IF I AM TO BE A GOD, I WOULD BE A FEARSOME GOD.
SIL. YOU WISH TO BE MORE AWESOME AND TERRIBLE?
DION. I HAVE MORE TALES IF YOUR SKILL AT INVENTION IS WANTING. AND THERE IS MORE STILL YOU MUST DO FOR ME.
SIL. WHAT MUST I DO?
DION. IN TWO YEARS’ TIME, AFTER YOUR TONGUE HAS SPREAD MY LEGENDS FAR ACROSS THESE LANDS AND MY MIGHT AND SKILL ARE KNOWN TO ALL WITH BREATH IN THEIR LUNGS AND EARS ON THEIR HEADS, YOU WILL TAKE ME TO THIS HARVEST FESTIVAL SO THAT I MAY MEET DEMETER HERSELF. AND IN RETURN FOR THIS FAVOR, I WILL NOT STRIKE YOU HARD IN THE FACE.
SIL. MY LORD IT WILL BE DONE!
DION. YOU HONOR ME WITH YOUR COMPLIANCE, SILENUS THE YOUNGER. NOW TELL ME MUCH MORE ABOUT THIS FESTIVAL.
THE GOD STEPPED INTO THE FIRELIGHT AND GAVE MANY OF HIS NAMES. A LARGE MAN, STRONG IN BODY AND IN SMELL, STOOD IN HIS PATH AND ASKED HOW HE WOULD KNOW THE GOD SPOKE HONESTLY.
“THE QUESTION YOU SHOULD ASK,” THE GOD REPLIED CALMLY, “IS NOT WHETHER I AM WHOM I SAY, BUT WHO WOULD BE FOOLISH ENOUGH TO DECLARE THEMSELV
ES TO BE DIONYSOS AND TO NOT BE.”
From the archives of Silenus the Elder. Text corrected and translated by Ariadne
It was three days before Piotr got back to me. The delay was explained as we met over breakfast in the hotel restaurant.
“When my mother died, they broke off contact entirely,” he said, munching hungrily on a sausage. “I never understood why, except perhaps that they had no wish to get to know their grandson.”
“Don’t judge too harshly just yet.” I sipped my orange juice and watched my werewolf friend appreciate his meat. “These are people unlike anyone you have ever known, with old ways that take some work to understand.” More kindly, I added, “It must have been difficult for you to grow up thinking that.”
“I don’t know that I thought much about it,” he admitted. “Having never known them or my mother. It’s just the way it always was. It took some time for us to locate them. Many inquiries were made.”
“Your father will not be joining us?”
“He has always felt guilty about mother’s death. I don’t think he can bring himself to face her parents. Their decision to break off contact was probably the best for everybody.”
“Not for you it wasn’t,” I pointed out.
“I suppose not,” he agreed. “But I have you to act as my guardian angel, don’t I?”
“Guardian angels aren’t in the habit of pummeling their charges into submission.”
“Psh. I deserved it.”
“How’s your nose?” I asked.
He was wearing dark glasses to cover the black eyes. But the glasses rested crookedly on his nose, which hadn’t set well. He evidently hadn’t been to a doctor about it.
“I think it adds character, don’t you? And it still works fine. I can smell the kitchen from here.”
“Can you?” My mind did a little back flip, recalling a similar conversation.
“Greg, if you don’t mind my asking . . . how do you know so much about me? I mean . . .”
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