This I Know

by A K Clark

  “I will always need you. Who else will teach me to cook in my new home?” I stood and hugged her to my chest.

  “We can pack your things tomorrow,” she said sniffing.

  “Tomorrow?” I asked, surprised. “I’ve barely made the decision to move out. Can’t we wait a day or two?”

  “Oh no, I need your room. I’m going to set up my weaving table in there.” I gaped at her. Hadn’t she been crying over my announcement moments ago? Well, at least she would have something to keep her busy. She loved weaving. The extra space would be welcome.

  I swore to visit often, but even as I did, travel plans formed in my mind. I wanted to explore every inch of Greece, then the oceans, the other countries, the whole world. Little did I know my wishes would come true, just not in the way I had hoped.

  12

  It had been two days since my mother said she would pack up my things and help me move. When the day arrived, my parents helped me take my few belongings into the house. My father gave me a mahogany dining table with six chairs. The piece scarcely fit, but the wood was beautiful. I purchased two couches and a bed for the spare room. I bought more than I’d anticipated, but the extra furniture made it feel more like home.

  After they left, I walked through the rooms, humming to myself. This was my space. A grin spread across my face. I couldn’t wait to help my first customer, though I wouldn’t be accepting any until after Milo made the announcement at Thargelia.

  I stopped by the kitchen, topping off my glass of wine before settling onto a couch. I had just managed a sip when I heard a knock at the door. I searched the room, looking for whatever my parents had forgotten. Perhaps they’d changed their minds and decided to stay the night, unable to bear the thought of leaving their daughter alone.

  “Did you forget something?” I cooed as I opened the door.

  “As a matter of fact, I lost this little warrior. She is about this tall, long brunette hair, pretty blue eyes... Have you seen her?” Zeus held up his hand, waggling his eyebrows at me. I giggled, blaming the wine for my stupidity.

  “You’re in luck! Please,” I made a grand gesture to the couch with my goblet, “come sit. I’ll fetch her for you.” I chuckled again, a bit drunkenly, as he entered. I closed the door, but it got stuck. I pushed on it again before noticing a rather large foot in the way. Said appendage belonged to Theo. I raised an eyebrow at him in surprise.

  “Are you lost? Might you be looking for the whore house down the road?” I feigned concern and looked over his shoulder, seeing Cora and Isaias standing behind him.

  Zeus cackled. “Careful. He’s been in a mood.”

  My brows drew together in mock concern. “Would you like to talk about it?”

  Theo scoffed, mumbling something about drunk women before pushing his way inside. I shifted to let him through and turned toward Cora, who moved in front of Isaias.

  “Happy housewarming!” she said, throwing her arms around me.

  “Thanks,” I said, patting her back awkwardly. Her changing moods were getting hard to keep up with.

  Cora’s smile fell. “I’m…” She paused. “I’m sorry I’ve been distant.”

  “You weren’t distant, Cora, you were rude,” I said.

  “I’m sorry.” She looked down. “I was jealous at the thought of you being Pythia. The vision Apollo sent me made it worse. I thought I lost my dream. Can you understand how I felt?”

  I knew the possibility of losing the Pythia-ship crushed her, just as it had Ilinor and Cicely. I’d been an anxious mess after Cora told me about the vision. “I understand... Do you want to drink wine and sit on my new couch?” I tilted my head and smiled.

  “Gods, yes, it took you long enough to ask me.” Cora practically skipped through the door, finding a seat between Theo and Zeus. Theo perked up when she leaned over him for the wine.

  “Next time, could you let me in before you kiss and make up?” Isaias said, winking at me.

  “Sure, come on in,” I said, muttering to myself because he had already walked into the room with the others.

  Once everyone had wine, we chatted about Thargelia. I noticed Isaias pick up a goblet, eyeing the scars marring it. He held his tongue, but I sensed his disapproval. His frown deepened the more he looked around.

  “You plan to live here?” he asked, almost sounding appalled.

  “Um, yes?” I hadn’t meant for it to sound like a question. He didn’t say anything else. He did, however, continue to look around the house disdainfully.

  “I’m jealous, Alex. I’m stuck in the dark, musty chamber all day, but you’ll be here in this beautiful home. You’ll surely steal my business.” Cora’s joke sounded more like an accusation. Was she still threatened by me?

  “I’m sure my home won’t steal your visitors. Nothing can replace the Pythia, not even a beautiful home.”

  Zeus cleared his throat louder than necessary, waving his empty goblet at me. “Do you expect your guests to pour their own wine?”

  “I expect you to. I’m neither your mother nor your lover.”

  “Let me see if I understand,” he said, tapping his chin as if in deep thought. “If I bed you, will you pour me wine?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to find out?” I said, earning a laugh from him. If it were any other man, the conversation might have made me blush, but Zeus wouldn’t take my comment for anything more than playful banter.

  “Would you like us to leave?” Isaias asked haughtily. I choked on wine which only made Zeus laugh harder.

  “Dear, Isaias, are you jealous?” he joked. “Would you pour me wine if I bedded you?”

  Isaias stiffened at the taunt. “Don’t joke of such things. I wouldn’t bed you even if you begged me to.”

  We all laughed, but I couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t answered Zeus’s question. Was he jealous? I wasn’t sure if Isaias knew about Zeus’s preferences, but it was safer to steer clear of the topic just in case.

  “Thank you for coming over.” I raised my goblet, clinking it against everyone’s. “Who wants a tour?”

  I led the group through my home, stopping in each room to describe my favorite parts.

  “The dining table is big, but I think it’s perfect.” The wood was smooth to the touch. I knocked on it before continuing to the bedrooms. “My father made the bed.” They all trailed behind me with bemused smiles. Clearly I was the only one appreciating the useless bits of information I tossed out. I put an end to their torture and we headed back to the wine. Isaias pulled me into the kitchen on the way back into the living area.

  “Are you crazy? Do you have a death wish?”

  “Who am I to say? And no, I do not have a death wish.”

  “This isn’t another joke, Alex. I know you and Zeus find everything amusing, but you can’t stay here alone.”

  “Why do you say that?” I asked.

  “You’re going to invite people into your home to divine for them. They will see you here alone. You understand there are bad people out there? What will stop them from coming back and hurting you?”

  “Yes. I will invite people into my home. Will they see I live here alone? Yes. Do I care? No. People aren’t as horrible as you assume them to be. You deal with evil more than most. Have you ever considered you might be jaded?”

  He gave me a thoughtful look. “I may be jaded, but I still don’t like you living here alone. Did you think any of this through? I would never let my sister move into a place by herself.”

  “Well, I’m not your sister, and thank Apollo you don’t have a say in the matter.” I left him standing in the kitchen. He had no right to pass judgment on my life or assume I‘d made a hasty decision. I‘d been dreaming about this for years.

  The rest of the evening passed quickly. Zeus sent me a few inquisitive looks while Isaias sat in stony silence, no doubt judging everything he looked at. Pompous bastard. My ire with him continued to grow when he refused to drink any more wine.

  “Well, we should head out. It’s late
and we still have to walk Cora home,” Zeus said, noticing my irritation. Cora gave me a quick embrace before heading outside with Theo and Isaias.

  “Isaias,” Zeus said as we embraced, “he means well, but I understand he can be difficult.”

  “Are you coming?” Theo said impatiently, waiting with the others outside. Zeus cursed him before heading out to join them. I rested against the closed door, fatigued from moving and entertaining company all night. Exhaustion trumped my anger at Isaias. Sleep came swiftly, a dream pulling me under straight away.

  The firelight cast shadows across the chamber’s floors. I sat on the tripod, chewing a laurel leaf, waiting for my next visitor. The chamber’s curtain rustled. Steps echoed throughout the space as the visitor neared. A handsome man with a strong nose and sharp blue eyes strode toward me. I met his eyes, smiling shyly.

  “How are you, friend? Tell me, why have you come?”

  “I’ve come to ask about the power lurking in the west. When will they strike?”

  My pulse quickened. The voice had haunted my dreams and the man it belonged to stood in front of me. “Argos?” I asked weakly, my throat suddenly dry.

  “Yes, Pythia,” he said, his jaw ticking in annoyance. “What of the power in the west?” His voice was deceptively calm, but I saw the faint shadow of violence coil around him just before I gave myself over to the vision tugging at my mind.

  Screams rose around me, a cacophony of agony singing through the air. The dying and the dead lay around me. The sound of metal clashing drew my attention to the warriors in front of me. Dirt and blood caked the men, their swords whooshing through the air only to clank together again.

  I identified the Grecian warrior by his black and yellow armor, but I didn’t recognize what country the other man fought for. He screamed at the Grecian warrior as he made a final, killing blow. His red and gold armor shone in the sun as he turned, taking in the fallen warriors.

  His eyes snapped to mine; an evil smile played on his lips as he approached. He stalked toward me slowly like a lion trying not to startle his prey. I slipped on the blood-soaked ground beneath me. He grabbed me by the throat before I fell onto the sea of lifeless bodies. I came out of the vision only to find Argos’s hand tightening around my neck. I thrashed, but he only chuckled.

  “Do you think you can fight me, Pythia? Tell me what you saw.” I couldn’t breathe or say anything as he squeezed even tighter. I slapped at his hands, but he didn’t let up. He crushed my trachea. I felt it collapse before I started suffocating. He dropped me, leaving me a crumpled mess on the floor. My body spasmed as it tried to find air, fighting to stay alive. He stood over me, sneering. I heard a wet rasping. The sound came from me.

  Argos kneeled and whispered, “Are your lungs burning? Can you feel your body fighting for air?” I tried to hit him, but my arm wouldn’t move. “Shh, shh, shhhhhh. It’s all right, Pythia. It will be over soon. Did you know your body can’t survive long without air? Your brain is shutting down as we speak. I can see the light in your eyes fading.” His voice became garbled as I drifted in and out of consciousness. My head fell to the side. Then there was nothing left but the deafening silence where my heartbeat should have been.

  I woke up panting, grabbing at the invisible hand on my neck. I breathed out in relief. It had only been a dream. Relief turned to horror when I took in the unfamiliar shadows of the room. I struggled to orient myself, trying to find something I recognized. I took a deep breath, steadying my heart when I realized where I was. Safe—I’m safe. I’m safe. The shadows haunting my dreams couldn’t get me here. They couldn’t break through consciousness to attack. Sleep evaded me. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt Argos’s fingers on my throat.

  Isaias’s words echoed through my mind. “What will stop them from coming back and hurting you?” I’d been angry with him, but the nightmare had me reconsidering his words. Maybe it wasn’t safe to live alone while Vero’s murderer remained on the loose.

  13

  The same dream haunted my sleep the rest of the week. Each time I awakened sweating, my throat aching as if Argos’s hand had actually wrapped around it. I couldn’t sleep one morning, so I got up to make breakfast. Dread filled me when I thought about Thargelia and the charade I’d have to put on.

  “Try to act surprised when I say Cora’s name,” Milo had told us. Cora hung on his every word, eyes sparkling with excitement. “You all come out wearing the outfits I sent over, then I’ll announce Cora as the Pythia and she will say a few words of thanks.”

  I shook my head. Milo wanted this to be special; the peplos he’d sent was over the top. His kindness might have flattered me, but I knew he sent it because he doubted my ability to properly adorn myself. When I saw the garment, his reasoning no longer mattered. It was a beautiful silk, a fabric I never thought I’d wear.

  I tried it on the day he sent it. The dark blue material slid over me, a whisper against my skin and far tighter than my normal peplos. The material turned from deep blue to black at the torso, faintly taking the shape of a star, the peaks resting in the middle of my chest and hips. I felt...beautiful. I no longer dreaded attending.

  I spent the day of Thargelia working on my hair, trying to create a style worthy of the silk. I swept it up with a tie, but it seemed too simple. I tried a braid but frowned when I finished. I ended up braiding pieces from either side of my head and wrapping them over the top of my head like a headband. The rest of my hair flowed down my back with a slight wave. I picked blue wildflowers and tucked them into the plaits to accent the dress.

  Someone knocked on my door around sundown. The sound was so faint, I thought I might have hallucinated it when I opened the door to find no one there. I looked around and spotted Isaias walking away.

  “Isaias?” I called out, wondering why he hadn’t knocked louder. I canted my head when he turned back, noticing the package he carried. “Did you need me?”

  “I wanted to speak with you.” His gaze traveled over me, causing a blush to creep up my neck. I’d done my hair but hadn’t changed out of my shabby chiton yet.

  “What did you do to your hair?” he asked, mirth dancing in his eyes.

  “I’m getting ready for the celebration tonight,” I said, slightly offended by the question. “I haven’t finished getting ready. I still need to put on my dress.”

  He wore black trousers and a dark green chiton which fit him very, very nicely. I idly played with the hole in mine.

  “Do you want to come in? We can talk once I’m dressed.” He agreed to wait. I pointed him to the kitchen. “Wine is in there, pour me a glass?”

  I slipped on the silk peplos, checking my reflection in the bronze handheld mirror. I tucked a stray hair back into the braid before returning to the kitchen. The package he brought sat next to him. Isaias paused mid-drink when he saw me.

  “Is that what you’re wearing?”

  His reaction wasn’t what I expected. Neither when he arrived, nor as I stood before him now. Was it so absurd for me to try to look nice?

  “What is wrong with you?” I asked him.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You’re sorry? You can’t help yourself, can you? Judging everything you see. Are my goblets really so horrible you can’t drink out of them? You ridicule me for staying in this house alone.” I paused to catch my breath. “Why is my hair like this? Is this what I’m wearing? Are you serious? Of course, this is what I’m wearing. Why else would I put it on?” I yelled the last question at him.

  He blinked a few times. His eyebrows raised in surprise. “I—”

  “You made it clear my house wasn’t good enough for you the other night. You have no right to treat me the way you do. Why did you even come here?”

  He looked down at his hands. “I—I know I wasn’t kind the last time we saw each other. I came to apologize. I shouldn’t have questioned your decision to move in here. It wasn’t my place.” He looked up at me with a sheepish smile, seeking forgiveness. I didn’t back down.
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br />   “That’s the best you can do?” I crossed my arms, waiting for a better explanation.

  “You aren’t going to make this easy on me, are you?” He grimaced, blowing out a tired breath. “I was not pleased when I found out you moved into a house by yourself because of things that have happened to my aunt. She lived alone and was home one night when three men kicked her door in. She didn’t have a chance to yell for help before they restrained and gagged her.”

  He took a sip of wine before continuing. “She never recovered. The neighbors would wake up to the sounds of her screaming in the middle of the night, reliving the horrors of what had happened to her.” He blew out a shaky breath. “A few months after the attack, we found her dead. She killed herself because of what those men did to her.”

  “How awful, I’m so sorry.” I reached out and squeezed his arm. He glanced at my hand. I removed it, unsure if he appreciated the comforting gesture. My own nightmares had me wondering if he’d been right to question the move. Though I didn’t appreciate his tactics, he had a point. Any person wishing me harm would see me as vulnerable because of my gender. But that didn’t mean I needed to live a life constricted by fear.

  “Thank you. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if the same thing happened to you. I want to kill those men.”

  I nodded. I would want to kill them too.

  “I understand your concern and I appreciate you worrying about my safety. But I can defend myself.”

  He gave me a look that said he wasn’t sure.

  I blew out an irritated breath. “Can we talk about something else? I don’t feel like arguing.”

  “Here,” he said, grabbing a goblet from the package he’d brought and pouring wine for me. “I’m sorry for my behavior the other night.” He handed me the cup. Had my old ones offended him so badly he brought his own to drink out of?