Snakehead (22 page)

Then she took out ripe pomegranates from the pouch she had slung at her waist. “But never mind. All that storytelling must have given you a thirst. You must be hungry too. Would you like some fruit? You’ll find it very sweet.”

I was
perishing
hungry, as if I hadn’t eaten for a month. But I wasn’t quite so stupid as to accept fruit from the land of the dead. I hesitated. Orphne held out the pomegranate, smiling. Suddenly I looked at the fire, and realized it was nearly out. I needed to get more fuel.

But there was something wrong. How much charred wood, how many circles of ash, on the little stones by the riverside?

How long have we been here!

I jumped up. Andromeda!

“Andromeda!”

She wasn’t with me. She was kneeling at the water’s edge. The nymph of the Styx, wrapped in her shroud of hair, was beside her.

“Oh,
Jason
,” laughed Elieone, the marshy one, with her crown of reeds and rushes, and gold frogs embroidered on her skirts. “Our recruiting sergeant! He’s so
careless
, but we’ve no complaints. We love the lads and girls he sends our way.”

“I dread the day he turns up himself!” Lethe pretended
to stop her ears. “I’ll be tired of listening, for the first time in my immortal life!”

I ran down to the water. “Andromeda! Andromeda!”

She looked up, puzzled. She spoke from the brief past we shared. “It’s Perseus, isn’t it? And I am Kore. I remember: the cemetery wall at dawn, my torch guttered; I wrote my name on the stones. We are dead, Perseus. We are
ghosts
, you and I.”

The nymph of the Styx watched me with her river’s eyes, beckoning and deep.

“Not yet,” I said. “Let her go, she’s not yours yet.”

I can wait
, breathed the river’s voice.
I am patient, son of Zeus
.

Andromeda shuddered, and stood up. “What was I saying? Perseus, we should get away from here.”

“I know it.”

The Stygian nymphs were gathered by the fire with its telltale circles of ash, looking guilty and frightened, like little girls caught out. But I blamed myself. There was no evil in them, only nature.

“Exactly
how
long have we been here?” I demanded.

“We don’t know,” confessed Minthe. “We lose track, Perseus. No harm.”

“No harm,” I said. “No harm at all. But we must get on. We were told you people would direct us how to get to the Garden of the Hesperides? Will you do that?”

“Of course,” said Eleione, sounding hurt. “We hadn’t
forgotten
.“

Orphne giggled. “Except for Lethe: she forgets everything!”

“The quickest way possible would be good.” They looked at each other. “Have you practiced with the winged sandals, Perseus?” asked Orphne.

I’d never had a chance. “Er, no.”

“Well, you have to use them now. Never mind, it’s intuitive. But you’ll need this.” She gave me a small, round bag with a drawstring. It felt like skin; it seemed to be empty. “That’s the
kibisis
. Don’t worry about the size; it grows to fit anything you put inside it, and there’s always just enough room. It comes from the East. Put the Medusa Head in there when you’ve chopped it off.” She gave me a sly grin. “You still remember you’re supposed to do that?”

No thanks to you beauties, I thought. But they were not to blame.

“Yes, I do. I remember everything.”

“You’ll also need this.” Tall Minthe stooped to the pebbles beside her, and held out her hands. I could see nothing. I felt cold, curved metal….

“What is it? A helmet?”

“It’s called the cap of invisibility. It belongs to the king of the underworld. Don’t worry, he knows you’re borrowing it. We’re close, Hades and I, as I may have mentioned. He asked me to take care of handing it over.”

She’d mentioned. She’d been dropping his name all over. Hades was a married God, but more faithful than most. He didn’t
roam
. I’d heard that his wife (who had her own life) got on well with some of the nymphs around him. I hoped our five were among that favored band. I knew they’d have been happy to feed on our memories until we were whitened bones, but I still liked them. They brought style and grace to the darkness. If I’d been mortal, I’d have been glad to know they’d be waiting here when I came back again.

A cap of invisibility, so that I could sneak up on the Gorgons—and escape pursuit.

A bag that would contain the Snakehead safely.

I was equipped.

But the rings of ash around the dying fire were frightening.

“Thank you,” I said. It wasn’t the same as being kitted out by Athini and Hermes: I had no trouble feeling grateful this time. “I wish you well, with all my heart, my dears. But how do we get to the Hesperides? And how long will it take?”

I had let go of Andromeda’s hand when I took the helmet. I reached for her again, and was relieved to feel her return my grip. But her hand was cold; she didn’t speak, and the cavern seemed darker. I felt that I was losing her.

“It will take no time,” said Lethe softly.

“Put on your sandals. Go
through.”

“My river is at the end of all journeys,” whispered Styx.

“The Garden is where you began. Go there through your beginning, swift as thought.”

I’d seen them walking toward us, but I didn’t see them go. Andromeda and I were alone. Our fire was dead, the air was still. The silence was so profound that I could hear the sound of the noiseless river as it slipped through the dark. I sat on the rocks, unfastened my sheepskin and set the invisible helmet on it—so that I’d know where it was. I laced Hermes’ sandals onto my bare feet. My own footgear had gone when we were thrown off the
Argo
, and I’d never noticed. I slung Athini’s shield on my back. Andromeda took the
harpe
from me, and strung the
kibisis
beside it on the leather belt. “What’ll I do with the helmet? If I put it on, you won’t be able to see me,” I said.

“It’s dark,” she whispered. “I can’t see you now.”

But I could still see her. “I’ll have to carry you.”

I scooped Andromeda up in my arms.

Go to the Garden through your beginning
. I thought I understood. The Stygian nymphs had given me all the clues I needed. I must travel in memory: from the shore of the dark water where life ends, to the beginning of my story. I thought of a wooden box, nailed shut and flung into the sea. My mother’s shame; my callous,
stupid
grandfather. The Greek word
Styx
means “hateful,” but this cavern had been a kindly place, compared to my start in life.

“I can’t do it, Andromeda. I think I know what they mean: but I’m scared.”

“Remember what you
want
to remember,” she murmured, from far away….

Sunlight.

Little fish, twinkling in the harbor water. Me and my Moumi lying on our bellies, giggling; dabbling our hands and the little fishes coming up to nibble us; the sun on our backs; how it feels to be perfectly happy.

Sparks flying from the boss’s hammer, the first time he let me hold the pliers. The mask held in front of my face, the smell of hot metal, my pride.

Sunlight.

Sunlight.

A crisp, golden silence.

The sun burned on my closed eyelids, hot metal. I could
smell
it. I opened my eyes and I was in the dark again. But I was somewhere different. The air was warm, and full of warm scents: dust and cinammon, musk and dung, spices I couldn’t name. If I am where I should be, this is
Africa!
I thought. For a moment I was purely thrilled. I was a little boy, fascinated by travelers’ tales: thinking of mighty Egypt; of Ethiopia, Andromeda’s ancestral home. Oh, Great Mother … Andromeda!

I panicked, terrified. Then I realized I was still holding her in my arms. She seemed to be sleeping. I set her on her feet, and shook her gently. “Andromeda, Andromeda,
we’re here, we made it!” She opened her eyes, stared straight at me and began to struggle furiously. She was strong and reckless. I had to let her go or break her arms. She stared around, wary and wild. “Perseus! Where are you!”

I took off the king of death’s helmet, and held it under my arm.

“Am I dreaming?” she said. “Are you Perseus?”

“You’re not dreaming. We’re here. We must be near the Gorgons’ lair.”

If there were mountains, they were out of sight. A twilight plain stretched out around us. The sky was the color of rust, and so was the ground underfoot. I couldn’t tell if it was always starless twilight here, or if this was the mortal dusk of an overcast, oppressive day. Not a sign of life, not a blade of grass or a tree, but there were stone figures scattered about. Some had crumbled into shapeless lumps, some were whole enough that you could make out the frozen record of flight … an outflung cloak, a leaping silhouette, a hand that clutched a moldering stone weapon. They’d been running and they’d looked back; and that had been the end of them.

One figure, in strange scaled armor, was close to us. I could see the gaping mouth, the bulging eyes of terror. Sometimes the dead preserved by the volcanic ash of the Great Disaster had been found like this. The deep ash looked like stone but it was very soft. When it weathered away, the dead—those who’d not been close enough to
burn to nothing—were still there, still on their feet. Burned pits for eyes. But the eyes that had faced the Gorgons were intact, globes of stone.

I turned to see what the fleeing dead had seen.

There was a wall. It was massive: easily as high as three men, and built of huge, well-dressed blocks. There were no loopholes, no gates. It curved on either side, seeming to enclose a space no larger than our Sacred Enclosure.

“Well, now for the last trial. Are you ready, my Kore?”

Andromeda was shaking her head. She took a step away from me.

“I’m going back to Haifa now. You have to go on alone.”

“What? No, no, Andromeda. It’s too late. You’ll have to come with me.”

Over the wall with her in my arms, then set her down where …?

This was all wrong. I stood there trying to convince myself there was a way I could take her with me. It was no use. I have her in my arms, the Gorgons attack, I set her down, how’s she going to defend herself?

“I must go. To the rock of sacrifice. It’s time.”

I’ll find somewhere to hide her, I thought desperately. I’ll put her somewhere she’ll be safe, where I can find her again. But though she spoke like a sleepwalker, Andromeda had seen the look in my eye. She took another step backward, and I knew that I dared not touch her. When lads and girls fight where I come from—not with each other, not physically, but lads fighting lads, girls fighting
girls—they scream insults, before and during. It’s your mother’s another, your dog looks like a pig, you have stupid hair. Any old rubbish, childish or vicious. I’d only a couple of times in my life had someone look at me the way she did then: unarmed, silent, resolute, ready to kill, ready to die. There’s nowhere she can go, I thought. “Wait here! Just be here when I get back!”

I leapt over the wall.

This is a
garden?

The Garden of the Hesperides was a petrified charnel house. The stone figures, which had been scattered on the plain, were a crowd in here, and none of them was whole. Any champion who’d managed to get this far had died petrified while being torn apart. The mutilated statues weren’t alone either. There were animals prowling in the shadows. Shapes moved in the withered undergrowth; eyes glinted through tattered creepers. I heard a coughing growl, a chorus of high, yipping barks that went off into weird cackling. It was hard to make out the size of the place. I thought I saw the opposite curve of the wall, not far off at all, but then I wasn’t sure. Maybe the garden was much bigger than I had thought. Was that cough a lion?

I’d never met a lion. We didn’t have big predators on Serifos; I didn’t like the idea of meeting one now. But wild animals were not my concern. Invisible, Athini’s shield on my left arm, the
harpe
naked in my hand, I crept forward.

Something was stirring, like a dry fountain: a murmurous hissing sound….

The three Gorgons were asleep on the bare ground under some dead trees, in a dell in the middle of the enclosure. Is there day in this place? I wondered. Will they wake? How long before sunrise? I walked around them at a cautious distance, very careful where I put my feet. The creatures were man-sized, which made them brawny women, but not giants. They were naked; their leathery hides looked gray in the dusk; the boar tusks gleamed. Two of them lay curled together like cats; the third was apart. The bat wings folded on their shoulders didn’t look big enough for flight, but then neither did the wings on my borrowed sandals. The snakes all the monsters had for hair were not sleeping. It was their movement I had heard. They slithered over and under each other, three nests of vipers, in a continual rustling stir. I saw a small mouth gape. The snake’s throat was red inside, a little stab of color, and a shock thrilled through me. The snakes must have eyes, if they had mouths….

But they can’t see me, I reminded myself.

I guessed that the one lying apart would be the Medusa, who was human, or had been human—not some kind of supernatural animal. But I’d better make sure. Look into the shield, I thought. I moved in, to make that test on the two sisters who were sleeping like cats. It was tough on my nerves. I had to find an angle where I could catch a glimpse of one bestial face and then the other, without
getting into a position where I risked being caught by either one’s deadly glance. I kept cool, I was patient and I did it. I couldn’t see them
clearly
in the shield; there was too much shadow, but I could make out the movement of the snakes, so I knew I was getting the picture. They were monsters.

So that leaves you, I thought, standing over the third sister.

I was lucky I’d thought about the horror of killing someone. If it had hit me now, it would have shaken me badly, and
now
I mustn’t falter.

I hope this releases you from torture, lady Medusa. If I’m doing wrong, forgive me….
Look into the shield
, said Athini, in the brilliant light of a high, stony place.
In reflection she is not a monster, far from it. Then one sweep, and leap back
. I heard her voice. I felt the sweat of that training session running on my body. But the sweat was cold now. I crouched, one knee forward, weight on my back heel. I turned the shield on my arm. I looked into it.