Chants to Persephone: The Future of the World Hangs on a Knife's Edge - and Only a Human Sacrifice Can Save It

by Jennifer Macaire

  Some people in the crowd jumped back with loud screams, but they were delighted shrieks. Despite the fear, everyone was thrilled. The elephant whirled around once more then darted behind the curtain. After a collective sigh of relief, the crowd eased forward again. I wanted another look at the elephant, which seemed to be a perfectly formed adult despite its diminutive size. I’d heard of pygmy elephants. I wondered if this were one, and how Sindi-Dan had obtained it?

  Then Sindi-Dan appeared. Behind him was a dark shadow, undulating in a terrifying manner. Paul let out a frightened squeal and grasped his father’s arm. ‘What’s that?’ he cried.

  Sindi-Dan held up his arms. ‘Do not make any sudden moves and don’t breathe a word!’ he cried. The people fell silent ‘Now, let all the women cover their faces! If the selkie sees a beautiful woman, he will change into a man and steal her heart!’

  There was a ripple of nervous chatter. It soon hushed, and the ladies drew their scarves or cloaks over their faces, peeking out with wide eyes as the sea lion – I recognized the animal right away – flopped its way to the centre stage.

  He was a huge sleek animal, with round eyes and a startled look on his moustached face. He opened his mouth, showing sharp teeth, and uttered a loud bark. The crowd jumped. Paul hid behind Alexander. I patted his arm, and whispered, ‘don’t be afraid, it’s just a seal.’

  The sea lion leaned backward, ponderously, and then reared up and clapped his flippers together. The Great Sindi-Dan patted his head and slipped a morsel of herring into the gaping mouth, and the sea lion obediently flopped down and started back to the curtain. But he suddenly stopped and reared up again. He uttered two or three sharp barks and turned, facing the crowd. Carefully the giant animal leaned forward, balancing on his front flippers, then lifted its back end completely off the ground.

  ‘What’s this?’ Sindi-Dan cried. ‘Oh no! He’s seen a beautiful woman! Why did you not hide your face! In a moment he’ll change into a man!’

  The crowd held its breath and the seal barked once more. Then a puff of smoke rose again, this time bright blue. When it evaporated, a man stood blinking in the torchlight. He had black hair and black eyes, and his skin was a curious swarthy colour. He wore a sealskin loincloth, and an intricate silver torc ringed his strong neck. He blinked and rubbed his face, then made quite a show of looking at his hands, then lifting his feet up, one by one, and studying them. The crowd was absolutely still. You could hear the creak of the wooden sign swinging slowly overhead.

  This man was a consummate actor. He made a huge show of being amazed at his human form. Fear, awe, joy, and then a sly grin crossed his handsome face, for handsome he was. He must be Iberian, I decided. The dark Spaniards sometimes looked like that, with eyes as hot as embers and a full, sensuous mouth. His skin had an odd bluish cast to it, and he had a thick mat of black hair curling from his chest to his flat abdomen. His muscles were strong and clearly defined. I looked at the crowd and saw that most of the women had let the corners of their cloaks fall and were staring with unabashed admiration.

  The dark man hesitated, then took a faltering step. He was superb; he made it look as if he had never walked before. His hips swivelled like the seal’s and he threw his arms wide, pitching forward onto the ground. A young woman gave an audible gasp. He raised his head and their eyes met.

  The man rolled over and got to his feet in a fluid motion. Gathering himself, he leapt into the crowd, scattering the spectators. He seized the girl by the waist and tossed her over his shoulder. Then he jumped back into the middle of the open space, and another huge puff of smoke appeared, hiding both of them. The crowd cried out in surprise. When the dark blue smoke cleared, a black horse stood, snorting and pawing the ground. The girl sat on the horse’s back, clinging with both hands to the mane.

  With a whinny, the horse tossed its head and reared. The girl held on tightly. The crowd parted as the horse suddenly plunged forward and galloped through.

  ‘He’s heading for the harbour!’ someone cried.

  There was a moment of stunned silence. The horse’s hooves clattered loudly on the cobblestone road. Then a great splash was heard. Silence washed back upon us like a wave.

  ‘Now look at that!’ It was Sindi-Dan, standing in the centre of the crowd, hands on his hips. ‘Just look at that, will you? I asked you women to cover your faces, but someone didn’t listen. And now what?’

  We all held our breaths. No one had the faintest idea what would happen next.

  ‘What happens is, I lose my selkie.’ There was a teasing note in his voice. The crowd settled back to its place, murmuring appreciatively and looking expectantly at the Great Sindi-Dan.

  ‘The selkie sees a beautiful woman and he changes into a man. The woman falls in love with him, and when she touches him, he turns into a horse and carries her back to his home in the sea. She’ll live there for ever now, I suppose, in his castle below the waves. Did I tell you a selkie was an enchanted prince? I didn’t?’ He looked amused. In the firelight his eyes were as deep as black wells. ‘Now I shall have to capture another selkie, and it’s not easy, I assure you!’

  He clapped his hands. ‘Well, I suppose I shall have to entertain you some other way then. Ithobaal! Ithobaal! Come out and show yourself. Bring the tablet; you’ll have to amuse the public while I think of something to finish the evening! Ithobaal! Oh, that lazy fellow. He’s probably eating all my figs.’ He snapped his fingers angrily and the curtain parted. A small shadow eased out, and the people started to laugh.

  It was the monkey. He looked as if he were in disgrace. His head was bowed and he carried a wax tablet behind his back. His tail was low to the ground.

  ‘Ithobaal used to be a druid,’ said Sindi-Dan in a loud whisper, ‘but he became entangled in one of his own spells.’ He nodded toward the monkey. ‘Now he pisses in my wagon and eats all my food!’ The crowd whispered loudly. One person cried out something that sounded like ‘bullshit!’ and his friends laughed.

  Sindi-Dan ignored the scepticism. ‘Did you eat all the figs?’ he asked the monkey.

  The little monkey cocked his head and then took the tablet. With a sharpened reed he wrote something. He handed the tablet to Sindi-Dan.

  ‘Who reads Greek?’ he called out. Then spying Paul, he said, ‘You! Young man, come here. I can tell you’re well educated. Here boy, what does he write?’

  Paul took the tablet and cleared his throat. ‘He wrote, “Your figs are rotten”.’

  The crowd roared as Sindi-Dan made an angry face. ‘Rotten are they? Well, you can have them all then.’

  The monkey looked at the crowd and gave a huge wink. There was more laughter.

  ‘If he’s a druid, make him tell us our fortunes!’ cried a man from the crowd.

  ‘Very well.’ Sindi-Dan rubbed the wax smooth and handed the tablet back to the monkey. ‘O Wise and Wonderful Ithobaal, will you tell the people here their fortunes?’

  The monkey wrote something on the tablet and handed it to Paul who read aloud, ‘I will, O Big and Boastful Sindi-Dan.’

  ‘Well, who is brave enough to ask first?’ asked the magician, looking at the crowd and folding his arms across his chest. There was a hush. No one dared ask first. Then Demos stood up from behind us. ‘I ask,’ he boomed.

  ‘A brave man,’ approved the magician, nodding toward the monkey. ‘Very well, Ithobaal, tell this man’s fortune for him.’

  The monkey jumped lightly over our heads and landed on Demos’s shoulder. He peered into his eyes. Then he fingered his cloak, and patted his hair and shoulders with his little hands. He bared his teeth and gave a funny monkey screech. Demos chuckled. The monkey jumped back to the ground and took the tablet. He nibbled the reed thoughtfully, looking so much like a little scribe, I couldn’t help but laugh. Then he wrote rapidly on the tablet, pausing now and then to stare at Demos’ face. When Paul took the tablet to read, there was a supernatural silence hanging over the crowd.

  Paul held the tablet up to the torch
light and read loudly, ‘Your fortune is twofold. First, to seek an object unseen at the end of night. Second, to make your home on the endless sea. A great, strong man like you is made for adventure, but beware! Strong ropes may not tie you down, yet the softest lock of a woman’s hair may hold you spellbound! Follow the Queen of Darkness to the land of her ancestors, then marry the woman with fire in her hair. True love shall triumph!’

  The men applauded as the women sighed.

  ‘Very romantic,’ said Sindi-Dan, ‘if you can figure it all out. Personally, I have never been able to understand prophecies, although ever since Ithobaal transformed himself into a monkey, he’s much easier to understand.’ There was a ripple of laughter, and several other people called out to Ithobaal to tell their fortunes.

  The monkey sat on Paul’s shoulder and pulled on his bright hair. Without waiting, he rubbed his tablet smooth with his soft hand and wrote some more. He handed the tablet to Paul who read, ‘If you want your fortunes told, you’ll have to pay me directly. Sindi-Dan won’t give me money, he only feeds me rotten dates.’

  There were shouts of laughter from the crowd. The monkey jumped off Paul’s shoulder and landed on Alexander’s lap. Alexander scratched the monkey’s chin and said, ‘Well, Ithobaal, what’s your price?’

  The monkey bared his teeth and held up three fingers.

  ‘Three? Three what? Dates?’ Alexander laughed.

  The monkey shook his head and pointed to Alexander’s purse. Alexander sighed loudly and untied it. The monkey dipped an agile paw into the leather bag and came out with three bright coins.

  ‘Hey! That’s silver!’ cried Alexander, but the monkey chattered excitedly and put the money into a little bag tied to his waist. He grabbed the tablet from Paul and wrote, then gave the tablet directly to Alexander. He jumped up and down, making impish grimaces with his expressive monkey face.

  The crowd was roaring with laughter at the monkey’s antics, but Alexander had grown very still. He looked at me, and I thought he would show me the writing, but at the last minute he passed his hand over the wax, smoothing it. He handed the tablet to the monkey and got to his feet.

  ‘Aren’t you staying to the end of the show?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s over,’ he said shortly and waded out of the crowd.

  Paul and I looked at each other. We were torn between wanting to see more entertainment and following Alexander. We had been cooped up on a boat for so long without books or any games. Now, there was a promise of a night of magic and songs. I told Paul to stay with Axiom and Nearchus and went after Alexander. Maybe he’d tell me what was wrong.

  As I walked through the streets, I heard music starting. Someone was playing a reed flute, and I heard what sounded like a bass drum. The music shivered through the air, making the torchlight dance on the black puddles.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Back at the docks, there was the usual bustle. Slaves were busy loading and unloading the boats in order to sail with the first tides. Fishermen readied their nets and lines. Phaleria’s boat was the only tranquil one. Two lamps burned in the galley, and I saw Alexander’s shadow wavering through the latticed doorway.

  Quietly, I stepped aboard. The boat rose and fell gently with the waves. My feet made no noise on the wooden planks. When I opened the door to the cabin, I saw Alexander sitting on his pallet, looking out the window. The lattice made a criss-cross of shadows on his face. Without turning around he said, ‘Come.’

  I slid into his arms. His body was warm. His neck was made to fit my face. ‘What is the matter?’ I asked.

  ‘Don’t you mean, “What did the monkey write?”’ His voice held no clue as to what he was thinking. It was unlike him.

  ‘I didn’t ask you that,’ I said.

  ‘I know.’ His lips brushed my hair. ‘It was so strange. One minute I was a man. Just a man sitting in the crowd. I had forgotten everything. It’s rare, you know. Perhaps you believe I never think about … before.’ His voice was hesitant, as if he were blindly feeling his way. ‘The truth is, I think about it all the time. Not a moment goes by that my body doesn’t stiffen, and I think that there’s something urgent I have to do, someone I need to see, an order I need to give. I can’t relax. I told you before, I feel hollow, as if the wind could take me away.’

  I held him tightly. ‘You had forgotten, was that it?’

  In the dark, I felt him sigh. ‘That’s right. I had forgotten. Perhaps he really is a magician. Even the stories he was telling about the Great Iskander didn’t concern me, they were so far-fetched they had nothing to do with … me,’ he finished softly.

  ‘The monkey reminded you of who you really were?’ I asked.

  ‘The monkey said that Aristotle was dead.’

  ‘What? Are you sure? When? What did the monkey write?’

  ‘He wrote that Aristotle of Stagira would teach no more, and that Craterus died in battle. The war still rages in Persia over my succession.’ He shook his head. ’Why did you never let me designate an heir? Craterus. Do you remember him?’

  ‘Of course I do.’ I could picture Craterus perfectly. He had been tall and quiet, with a mournful smile and grey eyes as soft as a dove’s feathers. He’d been a clever general and a valiant fighter. He’d commanded Alexander’s phalanx for nearly all the years they’d fought together. ‘I couldn’t let you designate an heir because history says that …’

  ‘History? History?’ His voice rose. ‘To Hades with history! Clio be cursed! I am here now. What is three thousand years to me? Why did I ever listen to you?’ He nearly pushed me away, then he took a great gasping breath. ‘I’m sorry.’ He drew me into a hard embrace. ‘It’s not your fault. I was wrong to think that – even for a second. As you said, history is already written. How do you feel about that, you who have always refused to believe in fate?’

  I was silent. All the beliefs I’d held tightly to since I’d arrived in this ancient time were crumbling like wet sand. Then I turned to him. For a moment his face held me enthralled, as it always had, by its pure lines and arresting eyes. I managed a smile. ‘I don’t care what you think,’ I said. ‘I don’t care if you blame me for all the misery of the world. I saved you, and that’s all that counts. You say you believe in fate, fine, but you can’t lie to me. You only pretended to believe. Deep down inside, you know that you’re free. And you always knew it.’

  He didn’t look away. The fierce look in his eyes softened. A twitch of the mouth told me I’d found my mark. His lips curled slowly into a smile. ‘You told me you never believed in magic,’ he said, ‘so explain this to me.’ He delved into his baggage and came up with Millis’s wax tablet. He took the stylus that was clipped to the top and wrote, then handed it to me. ‘That is what the monkey wrote,’ he said.

  I took the tablet and held it up to the light. Written in Alexander’s careful hand, were three lines.

  “Hail, Iskander, come back from the dead. Aristotle of Stagira will teach no more, his shade flutters in Hades in the eternal garden. Craterus has joined him there. The fighting continues. What happened the day your father died?”

  I put the tablet down slowly. ‘Why your father?’ I asked.

  He wouldn’t look at me. ‘I didn’t have to write that,’ he said finally.

  ‘Unless you wanted to,’ I agreed.

  ‘I can’t tell you yet. I’m afraid you’ll see me as I really am.’ There was something heartbreaking in his voice.

  ‘When you’re ready, you can tell me. I won’t judge you. You know I won’t.’

  ‘I do know that. You never judge. It’s almost as if you don’t care. I know that’s not true,’ he added hurriedly. ‘But I’m afraid to talk about that time in my life. When I think about it, it’s like staring into a whirlpool that will suck me into its vortex.’ There was a pause. ‘I’m afraid of the look in your eyes afterwards.’ he said simply.

  ‘There’s another possibility.’ I looked past his shoulder out the window.

  ‘What’s that?’ />
  ‘When you see that I still love you, perhaps you’ll stop loving me. You’ll think that it’s impossible I could still care for you, so you’ll push me away. You mustn’t make up your mind for me,’ I told him. ‘You can’t pretend to know what I’ll think or feel.’ The night was as deep as the ocean now. Stars blazed in the sky. Without electric lights everywhere, the constellations seemed close as the mountaintops.

  I felt a soft caress on my cheek. ‘Why are you crying?’ he asked.

  ‘Why? I don’t know. I always hoped you’d fall off your pedestal. I love you, that’s all that matters for me in the end,’ I said, kissing him. I kept my eyes closed. I didn’t want to talk any more.

  He growled then, and took my head in his hands, his fingers slipping through my hair. My arms encircled him. We’d been travelling in close quarters with everyone for weeks now. Finding ourselves alone for once was suddenly intoxicating. My breath caught in my throat as he unfastened my tunic and pushed it off my shoulders. I sighed as he pushed me backward onto the hard floor, covering me with his body.

  He was urgent, so was I. Afterwards, he slept deeply, the moonlight through the window striping his body. I covered him with his blanket and snuggled into his arms.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Next day the crew was busy getting the boat ready to sail. I mostly tried to stay out of the way. At the back of the boat, Yovanix tended the chickens. He had been such a quiet addition to our band that I could sometimes forget all about him. I think, perhaps, I wanted to. Whenever I looked at him, I felt a sharp pang of something I couldn’t define. Guilt? Sorrow? Pity? I didn’t know.

  He caught my glance and smiled. He had lost the habit of blushing every time our eyes met. I sighed. He was a nice person. Shy, unassuming, and clever with his hands. He whittled animals out of wood and gave them to Paul. He was making a chess set, and little pawns were forever dropping out of his pockets. There was one at my feet now. He must have lost it when he was feeding the chickens. I picked it up.