He growled and charged. The old woman stood her ground, but her courage wasn’t going to shield her skinny limbs from a bad bruising, or worse. I couldn’t let that happen. I leaped onto his back, grabbed his filthy hair in my free hand, and yanked it hard. Furious, he reached back, seizing my shoulders and flinging me forward, over his head. It happened so fast that I couldn’t even think about using my sword. I went sailing straight for the thickest part of the crowd. Men and women scattered left and right, but I bowled into one slow-footed fellow. The pair of us tumbled heels over head, churning up a small dust cloud, until we stopped halfway to the water.
“Get off me!” The man shoved me away and clambered to his feet, grumbling. “A fine thing, when every tadpole fresh from the egg’s got a sword.”
“A bad thing,” my opponent said, suddenly behind me. “Give it here, boy, before you hurt yourself.” He bent over and tried to take my blade.
That was a mistake. I got my feet under me in a crouch and deliberately stood up fast, shooting the top of my head against the bottom of his jaw. The impact was jarring. His teeth slammed together and I ran a few steps clear of him. I whirled around just in time to see him stagger backward and collapse right on top of his companion, still grubbing in the dust.
“You should’ve picked up those fish,” I cried gleefully. I pointed my blade at the pair of would-be bullies and added, “Now empty your hands and get out of my sight!”
The crouching man stood, letting the gold drop back into the dirt, then slung his partner’s arm over one shoulder and helped him away. The crowd cheered and clapped their hands. Now that I’d given them a good show, they were all on my side.
I turned to the one person among them who’d first stood up for me. “I’ll get your fish for you,” I told her, going after the basket.
“Poseidon grant they’re still worth trading,” she said, folding her arms over her bony chest.
“You won’t know until you—” I began. Suddenly I froze. The fallen basket lay a hand-span from my reaching fingertips, but as I looked at it, it began to swell like a water bubble, a weird red light crackling around its wavering edges. I only had a moment to think, Gods help me, what’s this? before the bubble burst and flooded my head with darkness.
2
MASTERS, SERVANTS, AND SLAVES
I opened my eyes to see a man’s tanned face backed by a soot-stained wall. I knew those eyes, but my head was still twirling, and when I attempted to remember where I’d seen this person before, my thoughts danced away, windblown wisps of smoke.
“Who—who are you?” I asked. “Where are we? Where’s Milo? Where’s the ship?” My voice came out raw and sandy. Wherever I was, it was dark and smelled like fish seasoned with a little sour wine and rancid oil. When I tried to sit up, the world tilted sharply and I fell backward.
“Ah, careful there!” The man thrust his arm behind my back and braced me. “If you fall over, you might hit your head. Then what will I tell your brothers?”
“My…brothers? How—” I took my first real look at him. My spine stiffened, moving me away from his steadying arm. When I spoke his name, it was a gasp: “Iolaus.”
“That’s me.” He smiled and ran his fingers through his hair. We were both on the floor, he on the bare, beaten earth, I on a woolen cloak thrown over a thin pile of barley straw. “I was worried that you’d forgotten me. Memory loss is a bad sign when you’ve been sunstruck. I don’t flatter myself to think I’m worthy of your royal notice, Lady Hel—”
I lurched forward without thinking and clapped my fingertips to his lips. “I’m Glaucus,” I whispered fiercely as the room spun. “Please.”
He was very gentle as he clasped my wrist, lowering my hand. “My mistake,” he murmured. “Your slave told me that, but it slipped my mind.”
“Milo’s not my slave,” I said sharply. I looked around the room, which had steadied. It was bare except for some baskets, a few clay pots, one plain wooden storage box, and a tiny hearth well away from the straw where I lay. Light and air came in through the smoke-hole in the roof. The reek of fish and the sea clung to everything. “Where is he? Is he all right?”
“He’s fine. You’re both safe and there’s no one near to overhear me call you by your true name. The old woman went off on her own business after insisting I bring you here. This is her home.”
“The fishwife?” I asked.
“She told me her name’s Melitta.” He took a damp scrap of cloth from a shallow bowl on the floor and dabbed it softly across my brow. It felt good. Iolaus was a warrior, the nephew of the great hero Herakles himself, yet he had a light touch and a kind heart.
“How did you find me?” I asked him.
“I was coming down from the palace to have another look at the Argo when I saw the crowd you’d attracted. There were too many people to see what was going on, but I had a fine view of things when you collapsed. I thank almighty Zeus that I recognized you, because you were the last person I’d expect to find in Iolkos, in the middle of a brawl. I almost had to get into one myself with that slave of yours. He was ready to fight me to the death when I tried to pick you up and get you out of the sun.”
“Stop calling Milo my ‘slave.’ He’s my friend, and he’s as free as you are!” I spat out the words with so much force that Iolaus raised his hands to ward off my anger.
“Lady—Glaucus—what can I say? I only remember him from King Oeneus’s palace in Calydon, where there’s no denying he was a slave. And he certainly is your friend. He let me carry you away only after I whispered your true name.”
“Where is he now?” I asked, placated by Iolaus’s explanation. “You never told me.”
“I sent him for more water.”
“Oh.” A fresh thought came to my mind. “Iolaus, you spoke of my brothers. You can’t tell them I’m here. Please.”
He looked puzzled. “I thought you came to Iolkos to find them. I’ll tell you the truth, I’ve been sitting here wondering what could’ve happened to make a girl like you risk the journey here. When your brothers showed up in Prince Jason’s company, they told me how you’d all traveled together as far as Delphi, where they’d left you safe, yet now…here you are.”