Chapter Text
Days passed. I am not sure how many. I lost sense of time somewhere between Theo’s soft lips and gentle fingers, his sweet sighs and his musical laughter. We argued sometimes, usually about stupid things, but sulks were quick and soon forgotten, usually telling some joke or other that made the other smile.
My sisters did not question his staying, simply moved the patterns of their lives around him. Like he had always been there. He mended things, helped to cook and clean, fished a little, tended to the garden. Helped me identify the birds as we both listened to their song.
One evening he had come back from a walk on the beach and even without improved senses you could sense the anger coming off him. It heated the air around him, a walking flame, and my snakes coiled against my head, almost in fear. Each of his steps were heavy, as if he were stomping. ‘What’s wrong?’
His face turned towards me, his mouth the line of a knife blade. His features softened instantly, and his shoulders sagged. ‘I’m sorry, just had a run-in with a god, and it left me fuming.’ I must have gasped, because he shook his head quickly. ‘Not him,’ he reassured me, knowing me too well. ‘Apollo.’
‘Why, what did he want?’
His face hardened again. ‘To offer something he thought I’d want, but at a price I wouldn’t pay.’ He scoffed. ‘The gods really know nothing sometimes.’ He turned to me, putting out a hand, waiting for me to take it. I did without thinking, relishing the warmth of his touch. ‘Med, you want me to be here, don’t you?’
I moved closer to embrace him, leaned my face into his neck, kissing it softly. ‘Course I do. Is that what you want?’
His arms came round to hold me even closer. ‘Med, yes. With all my heart, yes.’ He gently drew my head up, and kissed me softly on the lips. ‘I love you.’
And suddenly I knew what this lightness and tightness in my chest had been, when I had been with him or not. Why he was my first thought in the morning and my last thought at night. The physical want I understood, but why I felt calmed by his voice, why I craved his touch, my skin hot and cold underneath it.
‘I love you,’ I whispered. ‘It’s a bit terrifying.’
He held me tighter. ‘Yes, it is,’ he conceded, his smile in his voice.
*
A few days later I was walking along the water’s edge, looking for pretty shells to border the vegetable patch, when I sensed him. The air changes when a god walks amongst you. It’s as if normal sounds are stopped, and the ether around you starts to hum. There is a cloying sweetness in the air, like burning flowers, and colours dim.
I turned and saw someone I had not seen before. He was tall, far taller than a human, with the proportions of a statue. Golden curls tumbled around his head, and his skin shone like the light of the dawn sun.
‘I am Apollo, God of truth and prophecy, of healing. I am poetry and music made flesh. I am he who is the Sun and the Light.’
‘You’re trespassing.’
He huffed, and his tone became more snipey and less solemn. ‘I am a god, we go where we wish.’
‘Well, go somewhere else.’
He visibly bristled. ‘Such insolence. Tell me, does living here do that to everyone? Is it something in the air, or in the food you eat?’
‘Did you come here for a reason?’ I asked, bored.
He turned to face the waves. ‘I was here recently. I came to speak to the man who is living with you and your sisters.’
I nodded. ‘He spoke of it.’
Something flashed across golden eyes. ‘What did he say?’
‘That you offered him something he didn’t want.’
Apollo snarled, showing perfect white teeth. ‘I offered him salvation. An end to his hurt.’ He folded his arms. ‘I offered him his sight.’
I felt sick. I had to breathe deeply, use all my will not to fall to my knees in shock. He was offered his sight? To be whole again? So many years of pain and suffering, he could have… then I realised what Apollo was really offering.
‘He saw through you, didn’t he?’ I answered, and started to laugh. My snakes started to hiss, adding their own mockery to Apollo. ‘A blind man saw right through you.’
Apollo looked confused. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Athena suggest this to you? Probably not outright, but talked about Theo to you, yes? What better way to keep your legend going than to cure a storyteller?’ I advanced towards him, keeping his eyes on mine (I can’t kill a god but they still don’t like to meet my gaze, I know it causes discomfort). ‘But he knew that if he took your offer, he risked the wrath of Hera. And not only that, but he would have to leave me, and he resented being used as a weapon against me.’
‘He refused outright. He walked away!’ Apollo spat out. He looked away. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said, his words quiet and wounded.
‘Of course you don’t, none of you would,’ I tell him. My words are calm, but sharp-edged. ‘You don’t understand self-sacrifice because you don’t feel real pain or loss. You know jealousy and desire and pettiness, but you don’t know love.’ I open my jaws, to show sharp teeth. ‘And that’s why they will outgrow you.’
I am close enough to him now that I could reach out and claw at his perfect skin. It would burn me, but it would be worth it. Except I do not need to, because my words will hurt more.
‘And they will not worship you.’
Apollo steps back, and his golden eyes are now red, burning. ‘You speak nonsense! You are not immortal, what do you know of anything?’
‘Then why are you so upset by my words, if they are untrue?’ I start to turn away, dismissing him (it is perhaps unwise to dismiss a god, but what more could they do to me?). ‘I have things to do.’
Later that night I do not talk to Theo about what Apollo said to me. That comes later. We fight, and I ask if he regrets his choice, and his anger is forgotten and he holds me. ‘Never,’ he whispers.
Over the years, he stays. His hair becomes more silver than black, his movements slower and more clumsy. His words do not come to him as quickly as they once did. He has aches and pains, and while Stheno finds him medicines to help, they become less and less effective.
Humans are so frail, especially when they are old. It comes to a time when his skin is like paper, wrinkled and delicate. His eyes are now duller and a weaker shade, more the colour of buffed leather than earth now. But his smile still warms up the room and sends shivers through me.
We are sitting on the clifftop edge, in one of the most picturesque spots. From it you can see the waves and the endless sky. He turns to me. ‘I know you know I am dying.’
‘You’re a storyteller,’ I reproach. ‘You could lie about it.’
‘I’ve never lied to you Med, and I won’t start now.’ He takes my hand in his, kisses it. ‘I don’t regret a single thing of my life with you. I just wish I could see you.’ He smiles. ‘See what kind of green your eyes are.’
I panic. Because what if he did see? Saw the monster I was? The reptilian skin, the claws, the mass of writing snakes? And in that moment I can hear Athena’s laughter in my head, as I watch in horror as his pupils move, centreing themselves.
He blinks, as if the light hurts him. He looks down at my sitting body, and he starts to laugh. ‘It does shine like mother of pearl, I was right!’ he exclaims, and for a moment his youth and vitality comes back. He does not look into my face yet, but gently moves his fingers towards my snakes, letting them come to him. ‘They’re such beautiful patterns. Hello, hello,’ he whispers to them.
I am trying hard to control my breathing. I want to run, to get away, even let myself fall into the waves below if I have to.
‘Med, look at me,’ he whispers, coaxes.
‘But you’ll die,’ I spit out, and I try to sound authoritative but I sound like a child, frightened in the dark.
‘But I’m dying anyway,’ he teases. ‘Let me choose the time and the manner.’
‘I can’t be the one who kills you!’ I sob.
‘You’re not,’ he reassures me. ‘I am well aware who is responsible for this, and why.’ He grabs my chin and raises it, and though I have my eyes closed I can feel his lips on my eyelids, a benediction. ‘But they don’t get it, do they? That this is the best I could hope for, a painless death after a life well lived. And a death with the person I love with me.’ He kisses me again, desperate. ‘Please Med,’ he pleads.
I open my eyes. I am trapped by the warmth of his gaze. For a few seconds he holds it, then I break away to look down at his feet.
The change is gradual, like a slow-tide, but unstoppable. His flesh turns to grey stone, and it moves up his body. His hands in mine become cold, and he moves away. He keeps his eyes locked onto mine.
‘Doesn’t hurt,’ he says. ‘If anything, it’s nice not to feel the pain. Bit like a warm bath, or going to sleep.’ He smiles. ‘And your green eyes are beautiful. I don’t have the words to describe them.’
‘You absolute bastard,’ I say, laughing.
‘Well, by the time you meet me in the afterlife, perhaps I’ll have come up with something.’ He closes his eyes, leans back against the rock. Peaceful. ‘I love you. Always have, always will.’
‘I love you too.’
I want to say more, but he cannot hear me. There is only stone where there was once flesh, blood and a beating heart. I stay until the night comes. I shed my tears.
Though ultimately my heart is light when I go back into the cave. I do not know how many years I have, but I do not despair. However lonely I am, I have known love, and that will give me succour. And I will see him again.
Besides, I beat the bitch after all, didn’t I?