Winter was closing in on Greece by the time Hekate and Kabeiros reached their goal. Kabeiros the man surfaced again as they set foot on his homeland, and as she gathered her bundles, he began to warn her about how to behave. Fortunately they came ashore at Heraclea, on the border between Thessaly and Pieria. When they had heard the name of the final port, both agreed at once to sail on that ship; it was a good omen Hekate felt for the same safety and ease of travel they had had since leaving Heraclea in Bythnia.
Added benefits appeared once they docked. Heraclea was a large enough port to have shops that supplied anything a traveler could want, but small enough not to be either a sink of iniquity or a major focus of the king's authority. It did have a local lord, but his port officer knew he would not be interested in an old woman, who carefully husbanded her few pieces of copper. If the officer had followed her, he would have seen her bartering for a heavy woolen blanket rather than a fur-lined cloak and thick-soled, tall, leather huntsman's boots.
The large, strong dog might have been of more interest to a lord who enjoyed the hunt, except that it slunk along behind the old woman with its tail between its legs. A single glance showed the official it had no disposition to fight and didn't even chase rats. At first it didn't occur to the lord's officer to wonder how the poor old woman fed a dog of that size. He might have accused her of stealing when the thought did come, but they were gone from the town by that time and he had heard no complaints about them.
A number of the merchants from whom Hekate bartered goods were horrified at the thought of an old woman setting off to travel in the winter. She pacified them by naming the nearest inland village—Kabeiros had discovered the name for her and the names of some people who lived there. The place was only a day's walk distant, even for an old woman, and she said she had family there waiting for her. Then she and Kabeiros left at night, Hekate having artfully arranged some of her worn summer clothing over the heap of straw on which she would have slept. Last, she stole a small, sturdy mule, leaving more than its worth in twists of silver.
The village Hekate had named was south of Heraclea, in Magnesia. She and Kabeiros set off northwest into a land that was essentially wilderness, except for a few isolated farms. Away from other humans, Hekate changed form to the woman, sighed with relief, and strode forth at a pace the crone could never match. She had no fears of the wilderness. In it she was free to use magic to ward away wild beasts, to keep her warm and protected from the weather, to cook her food, even to lighten the load on the little mule, which was mostly two trusses of hay and grain for its food.
What was more she didn't fear to expend the power to accomplish even the most trivial things. The blood of the earth under her feet ran more like a wide river than a little stream—and it ran from the northwest, from the mountain the local people called Olympus.
It was plain from the land that no one went that way. There were game trails here and there but no sign of any hunter, and the only obstacles Hekate found were two rivers she had to cross. In the winter with waters mostly frozen into ice in the mountains, they were easy enough to ford and magic dried clothing and fur so none were chilled.
In the late afternoon of the second day of travel, Hekate looked ahead into another narrow, arid, empty valley that came to an abrupt end in a sheer cliff.
*It is here,* Kabeiros said, and sneezed.
Hekate grinned. The illusion was large, but not quite as good as those of Aietes, and, in any case, illusion was useless against anyone who could sense magic. It flowed thick and rich, so rich that it felt hot rather than comfortingly warm, from whatever was behind the illusion.
She cast a protection over her little mule and drew extra wards around her in case there was a sting behind the gossamer web that deceived the eyes. Those were wise precautions because she felt a more violent magic run off her shield and saw it flow over and off Kabeiros. For a moment that had all her attention, in case his natural protection wasn't perfect and he should be hurt. The shadow man, who had been walking beside her disappeared, but Hekate didn't know whether that was the effect of the defense of Olympus or a withdrawal because his invulnerability was not a hopeful sign to Kabeiros.
As she tried to think what to say, the dog showed Kabeiros had not withdrawn too far. He turned his head and said, *Look.* And she did, and saw that the valley was much, much larger than that depicted in the illusion. In fact, she could not see the end of it at all; it must stretch many miles.
From where she stood, a wide dirt road passed through what were clearly tilled fields, although now they were lying fallow. Dividing the fields far along the road were wooded patches, and beyond the fields to north and south the land rose, at first gently into hilly pasturage and then, at a good distance but where she could still see clearly, more suddenly into high cliffs.
There was no sign of habitation, but the road was marked with and smelled of manure. Draft animals of some kind came along the road often enough, even in winter, for their soil to remain evident. As she thought "winter," Hekate noticed that the air was much warmer, not summerlike but no colder than late autumn. But it had been full winter, threatening snow, on the other side of the shield/illusion. Kabeiros sneezed again.
*Magic on magic,* he said. *I've never smelled it so strong.*
"Well, there's no sense standing here," Hekate said. "I don't see any signs of a welcoming committee, even a hostile one. Maybe they've got the local people so cowed that even if they manage to pass the spell at the entrance, whatever it is, when they see they have actually penetrated the valley of the gods, they retreat to safer ground."
*We'll know soon enough,* Kabeiros agreed, starting forward, *but for now I think I will keep the man hidden. The mages of Colchis couldn't see my man form, but they couldn't see any of the low magic. Perhaps they can here, and I would prefer to keep secret the fact that I can think like a man.* He hesitated and added bitterly, *Even if that's all I can do like a man.*
*It will not be so long now,* Hekate soothed. *A few weeks, perhaps, to find my balance and discover what I can offer these mages to try to cure you.*
They walked along briskly for some time, once passing a very ordinary-looking peasant leading an ox that drew a small two-wheeled cart laden with hay. The peasant looked at Hekate with her dog and her mule, but he said nothing and Hekate let him pass because she didn't know what questions she wanted to ask.
Soon after that encounter, the tilled fields gave way to a kind of tamed wilderness. There were tall trees rising out of grassy or mossy ground with here and there neat patches of berry-bearing brambles and bushes that she suspected also bore berries or, perhaps, nuts. It was like a park. They were coming close to the city, she thought, the kind of city that didn't want to be too close to the peasants that fed it. Hekate shrugged as she walked. She would have to answer questions at the gate, she assumed, but she would know better what answers to give when she had seen the city.
They came at last to a wall . . . but there was no city, only the wall, long overgrown. Hekate stopped and stared, and in her mind Kabeiros began to laugh crazily.
*Dead and gone,* his mind was in chaos. *Long dead and gone.* The crazy laughter echoed again. *While I lived like a dead man in the caves of the dead, the 'gods' all died.*
*Don't be silly,* Hekate snapped. *That illusion at the head of the valley wasn't set before these vines grew.*
*How do you know? You have illusions that you say will last until the earth moves. Why not these, who called themselves gods?*
"Because," Hekate said dryly, aloud, having got over her shock, "the wall goes in the wrong direction. Have you ever seen a city wall that did not cross the road? Yes, sometimes a track will go around, but not the main road."
In fact, a little farther along they found a gate from which the vines had been cleared, invitingly open.
"It's a temple," Hekate said, looking at the carvings on the gate posts, "and someone still comes here." She stood listening, then asked, "Do you hear any sign of life?"
*No.* Kabeiros' panic had been conquered. *But there's a fountain still running or a spring of some kind.*
After a moment of silence, Hekate said, "I . . . I must go in. I am being . . . drawn, no, called, within."
*Hekate!* he warned, but it was too late.
She had already passed through the gates and Kabeiros hurried to catch up as she walked along a narrow path. Once it had been much wider; once processions had passed along it, but now brush and creepers were encroaching along the sides. Only the center was clear, but that had been swept free of fallen leaves and blown earth, showing that the path had been laid of white marble.
Without hesitation Hekate passed under a broad stone lintel and into the temple itself. It was a small, round building. Once the stones might have gleamed pure white, now they were stained and streaked where rain had penetrated the failing roof. Hekate barely noticed. At the center of the temple on a low plinth there was an image. Only by the most careful examination—or an act of faith—could she see a shape: a head, sloping shoulders, long shadows that might mark arms, a sweep of stone into a broader base that could be the skirt of a gown. Her gaze went back to the head, to the long, oval face, an indentation across it that might have been eyes, a slight bulge or perhaps only a lightening of color that marked a high-bridged nose, and below that other shadows that could limn a mouth.
"Mother?" Hekate breathed.
She walked around the image and her breath caught. From whatever position she took, she saw the same face. The long eyes under the high brow followed her; what could have been the nose changed shape slightly; but the mouth . . . when she had reached her first position again, she could swear it was smiling.
"She smiled at me!" Hekate said to Kabeiros. "Thank you, Mother! I will go in hope because You approve."
Kabeiros looked up at her. She sounded like a little girl, and she waved gaily to the image as they left the temple.
"If we stay here," Hekate said, turning into the road again, "I will see what I can do about fixing that roof. Not that the Mother will care. Her strength doesn't come from Her worshipers, like the strength of a blood-mage from the bodies of his victims. She is the same whether any worship Her or not. The shrine to which my mother took me had no temple at all, only a wooden image that looked a lot like this one, although this is stone. Our Lady stood right out in the open in a forest glade."
*I don't think worship of the Mother is popular here,* Kabeiros said, his mental tone neutral.
"Oh, no." Hekate laughed. "I suppose they worship themselves, or each other. You needn't warn me. I won't start to preach. The Mother can look out for Herself. As far and as long as I know Her, She only gives, never takes. She needs nothing from us." Hekate laughed again. "As to what She gives, one needs to be careful in asking; you might get exactly that, which wasn't what you wanted at all."
They progressed in silence for somewhat less than a quarter candlemark when Kabeiros hesitated, poked his nose down at the ground, and then sniffed under a tall stand of tasseled grass.
*Wait,* he called. *There's something behind here.*
Hekate returned and peered over the tall grass. "Could be," she agreed. "There are old trees on each side of this grass stuff and it forms a gentle curve, as if it were once a walk. Shall we go back and look? I have a feeling that we won't find any inns in Olympus. If any part of what was once here is still standing, it might be a good place to sleep."
She left the mule tethered behind some brush, and they pushed their way through the growth, careful near the road not to damage the grass too much. Just out of sight around a hedge, which had not completely grown together, there was a house. Hekate and Kabeiros stood and stared at it.
It wasn't white and shining as the temple must once have been. It was of huge gray blocks of granite, seemingly crude but each set so close and finely on the others that no mortar was necessary. Nothing lightened the somber facade, only the granite itself sparkled where the sun touched it and reflected from minute grains of quartz. Two doors of gleaming black wood with matching handpulls of brass stood closed in the center of the building. On either side were three tall windows, tightly shuttered. A tall facade hid all but one central peak of the roof which seemed to be of slate and perhaps had a window or a door.
That it was an impressive, almost an overwhelming, house was not what held Hekate and Kabeiros gaping. It was all perfect. Amidst the riot of overgrown grounds, the house was clear of vine or weed, even of moss grown on the roof.
*Stasis?* Hekate asked Kabeiros.
*Mother knows,* he replied. *This whole place stinks so of magic that it's hard to pick out one spell.*
*Should I try to break it?*
Kabeiros hesitated, then said, *Not now. To break a spell so strong and so old might wake some kind of alarm and would surely be considered an aggressive act. Let's find the city first. Who knows, perhaps we can ask permission to use this house . . . if you like it.*
*I think I do,* Hekate said. *I like how close it is to the Mother's temple, and it doesn't look like decorated pastry. I like the somber look of it. Well, we'll see.*
So they went on. Almost opposite the hidden house, a small lane led south. The grass on either side of it was cropped smooth and Hekate thought she caught a glimpse of a low, white house farther in. She didn't take that lane, however; it looked too much like the purely residential streets in Ur-Kabos and, like them, probably led nowhere but to more private houses.
Beyond that there was another overgrown lane to their right; then the main road seemed to fork left. Since the fork seemed wider and better traveled than the road that ran straight on, Hekate and Kabeiros bore to the left and very soon came to a wider and perfectly paved road that went south. Hekate looked at the new road in some dismay. It was, like the path to the temple, of closely fitted blocks of white marble. A few dusty footprints marred the surface, but not a single oval of a hoof, not a heap of manure, nor a straight track of a wheel.
*I don't think our mule will be welcome here,* Hekate said.
*I'm not sure I will be welcome here.* Kabeiros sounded dismayed.
*That problem we can deal with when we meet it,* Hekate said. *You aren't likely to leave a pile of dung anywhere. The mule is. I'll take it back to our house . . . *
The words "our house" echoed in her mind and she laughed, but Kabeiros had no doubt about which house she meant and they hurriedly retraced their steps. They hobbled the mule behind the hedge, where Kabeiros had found a broken fountain from which some water still flowed.
After a moment in which she had glanced around the deserted grounds, Hekate said, *I think I'll change my clothes. There isn't any sense in walking into the city wearing stained and dusty travel clothes. That will just cry aloud that we are strangers.*
The dog backed away from her as if she had threatened him.
"What's the matter? Do you think it would be more dangerous to—"
*No. No.* The words were blurred and mumbled as if Kabeiros was having difficulty speaking at all. *I . . . I need to look at the warding from all sides. Do what you like about clothing.*
He was gone before the last few words came to her mind, running with his tail low, as if some dreadful danger was on his heels. Hekate stood staring after him. She had no particular inclination to look around or send out a testing probe. Kabeiros would never run from danger, specially not from danger to her. If he ran from her it was she who posed the danger to him. But how? Why? And why when she said she would change her clothing?
While she mused, she got the pack that held her clothing and extracted a light green tunic and a dark and sober gown, decently trimmed with twining vines in silver and light green. Then she removed what she was wearing, including the tall huntsman's boots. Naked, she washed her face, arms, and legs and used some rough sacking to dry herself.
It occurred to her, while she was rubbing the last drops of water from her legs, that Kabeiros had been more and more distant since they left Heraclea—not less human; he had been alert to every chance and every danger and quick to offer advice, but less close. He no longer walked near enough for her to rest her hand on him as he always had when she wore the form of the crone. He lay on the far side of the fire when they slept instead of lying pressed against her . . . and it was winter; the warmth would have been welcome.
Could Kabeiros love only the crone because it was she with whom he had spent those months in the caves of the dead? That was ridiculous, she told herself as she drew on the undertunic and then the gown, found a clean place to sit, and laced on sandals. The crone and the woman were the same person—even the maiden was the same person. But he had been in man form when she was with him as the crone. Could that have made a difference?
She sighed, unable to understand and unwilling just now to spend more time puzzling over the problem. A mental call brought Kabeiros loping around the edge of the house. Hekate then extracted from the bundle a strong leather wallet and put into it some silver and gold.
After going a small distance along the wide street that had caused them to get rid of the mule, they discovered it was not as devoid of life as the roads they had traveled thus far. Several men and women, plainly but decently dressed, passed them. Two entered a westbound street, also marble paved and wide. Hekate thought of following them, but they were walking slowly, talking, not as if they had errands or other business to do. Several other people came by ones and twos from narrower, but also well-paved side streets.
Hekate breathed several sighs of relief when no more than a single curious glance was cast at them from anyone. A dog, it seemed, was not a very unusual sight and her clothing would pass. They went by two more side streets on the left and one on the right. Then, at last, their road met another, not only equally wide and equally well-paved, but lined with elegant columns.
Beyond that crossroad, there seemed to be only one more side lane. After that, the road ran through the same kind of tamed wilderness or parkland they had passed before reaching the deserted temple. To the right, however, the street with columns showed more life, and Kabeiros reported he heard the sound of many voices and smelled many people.
They turned into that street, passed an open grassy area, and then walked into a modestly busy market. Hekate stood with her hand on Kabeiros' head and stared around.
"Is that a new dog for Lady Artemis?" a woman's voice asked.
Hekate's hand closed possessively on the ruff of fur on Kabeiros' neck.
*Say you want Lady Artemis to look at the dog,* Kabeiros urged her sharply.
Hekate was not willing to go as far as that. "I'm not sure," she said to the woman.
The woman who had spoken was very tall, her brown hair pulled back into a bun at the nape, and a heavy felted cloak thrust aside so that Hekate could see she wore a simple white garment pinned together on her left shoulder with a brooch and belted at her waist with silver links. The garment left her right shoulder bare. Her expression was severe but not unpleasant.
"He is a beautiful dog," she said, and then, with a touch of sympathy in her voice, "I can see that you love him. Well, you need not fear to leave him with Lady Artemis. He will be very well cared for."
"But what if I bring him to her and then realize I cannot bear to be parted from him? Will she be angry with me?"
"Likely not," the woman said.
However, Hekate thought she didn't sound very sure and Kabeiros chuckled in the back of her mind.
*From what I've heard about these 'gods,' they don't take kindly to being denied their desires.*
*Then perhaps we shouldn't use this pretext.*
*I think we must. This is a quick and easy introduction to one of the great mages, and she is twin sister to Apollo—one of the greatest. Besides, if Lady Artemis is as familar with dogs and as powerful as the daughter of Zeus should be, she won't take me for a dog for long. You can explain our need to her . . . but I think you should be well warded, in case she takes offense at your pretense.*
Actually, it wasn't the pretense that Hekate had a dog to sell that annoyed Artemis; it was because Hekate had brought a male who wasn't part of Artemis' family into Artemis' presence without invitation that they were nearly skewered with arrows. But not immediately. At first all had gone well. They had had no trouble following the woman's directions and finding Artemis' house, as all they had to do was continue to the end of the market, turn right on the lane there, and enter the first paved path to the left. There was a gate with a finely wrought bell, which Hekate rang.
The servant who came down the wide portico steps to answer was an older woman, gray-haired and with thin-drawn lips. She glanced at Hekate, began to shake her head, then looked down at Kabeiros, smiled, and opened the gate. As they entered, a cacaphony of howls and barks could be heard coming from somewhere behind the house.
"You have a dog to sell," the servant said—not a question but a statement, as if this was a common occurrence.
"Only to show Lady Artemis," Hekate said, ignoring Kabeiros' urging that she agree. She found she could not even pretend such an idea.
"You can wait in there."
The servant pointed to a chamber that opened through a wide arch from the entry hall. Obediently Hekate walked in, drew breath, and stopped dead. Straight ahead a tiny stream ran, falling out of the back wall of the place, which seemed to be of rough stone with plants growing from crevices. Across the stream, a doe and two fawns bent to drink. Behind them, a little distance away, a stag with magnificent antlers stood with raised head.
From a dense thicket of bushes, which masked the wall to Hekate's right, eyes gleamed. After a moment's study, she made out rough brown fur and a hulking shape . . . a bear. Nearer, just at the edge of the thicket, a fox crouched. On the far left was a grove of young birches, which stretched to shadowy distance, among which were more deer; that, however, was only a painting.
*It isn't real,* Kabeiros said, his nose twitching.
*Perhaps not, but it is magnificent workmanship. I wonder who made it?*
*You can ask. It's a harmless enough question.*
Before Hekate could answer, footsteps sounded in the entryway and a tall, broad-shouldered but very beautiful woman came through the arch. Her hair was a golden-brown, elaborately dressed in braids and curls but caught up on top and close to the sides of her head so it would not get in the way. Her eyes were almost the color of her hair, large and almond-shaped with thick, straight lashes. The nose was perfect, straight, with delicate nostrils. If there was any fault, it was in the mouth, which was well-formed but held too tightly.
She wore a gown of thick, gleaming, white fabric. Silk, Hekate thought, like the cloth that came to Colchis from far to the east. The gown was pinned on the left shoulder to leave the right arm bare, like that of the woman who gave them directions in the market, but the skirt was kilted up well above the knees for ease in running. On her feet were tall huntsman's boots, much like those Hekate had discarded. A quiver of arrows hung from the golden belt at her waist, and a short, dangerous looking horn bow drooped from one hand.
She looked first at Kabeiros, a quick glance, then at Hekate, to whom she said, "What do you want for him?"
"I . . ."
"Oh, out with it! Whom do you want killed and why?"
"Killed!" Hekate echoed, eyes wide with shock. "I don't want anyone killed. What a horrible thought. Are you the executioner of the gods?"
Artemis stared at her, then suddenly laughed. "I suppose I am, in a way. All of us can kill, but I'm the one who's asked to do it." The smile that remained after the laugh ended was very bitter. Then she shrugged. "I don't mind killing, and the death I deal is always quick and painless." She smiled again. "Some of them don't like that."
Hekate shook her head. "I beg your pardon, Lady Artemis, we seem to be here, Kabeiros and I, under false pretenses. I don't want anyone killed, and I haven't the right to sell Kabeiros."
"Kabeiros, is it?" Artemis now gave her full attention to the hound. In a moment, her eyes widened. "That is no dog!" she exclaimed. "It is a man. In my house!"
The bow lifted, an arrow, extracted from the quiver so quickly it seemed almost magical, was notched and aimed at Kabeiros, the bow drawn.
"Teleia stigme!" Hekate spat, and pointed.
Artemis froze into position.
*What now?* Kabeiros asked, rising to his feet. *Does this mean that shape-shifting is forbidden in Olympus?*
*I wouldn't jump to that conclusion,* Hekate said, walking over to Artemis. She touched the fingers bent around the bow and arrow and murmured, "Entautha monos thialuo teleia stigme," and removed the bow and arrow from Artemis' hands. *I would say this is one nasty lady who just doesn't like men.*
*But she can't go around killing every man on sight,* Kabeiros protested.
*No, no. I suspect it's only males that invade her territory that she kills. This is her house, after all. What's more important is that she saw at once what you were.*
*Are you sure that isn't why she tried to kill me?*
*Sure? No, I'm not. If that's true, we must leave—*
*For where?* The hound stared up at her. The face showed little expression, but an angry despair emanated from his posture, the raised hackles, the lifted lip. *This was our last hope.*
*No.* Hekate's mind voice was flat and ashamed. *We can go back to the caves of the dead. When you are a man, you are open to my magic. I didn't want to go back.* Her mind withdrew and she looked into the imaging of a forest scene. "I am afraid of Perses," she said aloud.
*I don't want to go back to the caves of the dead,* Kabeiros said. *Perhaps it's true she hates men. If not, perhaps she is one who hates shape-shifting and not all feel as she does. What can we do to pacify her? Shall I go away? No, then she might exercise all her spite on you . . .*
*How? I don't think she's accustomed to casting spells. It was her bow she reached for to inflict punishment. And she had no shields against my magic. That last might be an accident. It's possible Olympians don't bother with shields in their own homes, but I think they really don't use magic much.*
Kabeiros came closer and smelled the arrow. His nose wrinkled. *The arrowheads are bespelled illusions.*
*Bespelled how? What kind of illusion?*
He sniffed again. *I don't know. It's not like a made spell. It's like . . . like something scented with a person's body.*
*An essence of her Gift made into a spell? Could it be that these people don't know how to create spells? If so, I could barter for almost anything. What do you think she would trade for that freezing spell?*
*Provided you could get her to listen instead of trying to kill you, almost anything she has.*
Hekate sighed, then slowly dropped to her knees. She put the bow and arrows close beside her where Artemis could not easily grab them, then released the spell.
Artemis immediately made the gesture of loosing the arrow from her bow and simultaneously shouted, "Opis!"
"Please, Lady Artemis, forgive me," Hekate had time to say before another woman, garbed much like Artemis and with the same broad shoulders, burst through the arch, bow in hand. Hekate froze her and turned back to Artemis, who was staring with wide eyes and open mouth. "Please listen, Lady Artemis," Hekate pleaded. "I mean no harm. I didn't know it was forbidden to bring a man into your house, but even if I did know I would have had to bring Kabeiros. You see, that's why we sought you out, for your knowledge of dogs. The problem is that Kabeiros cannot be a man. He is bound to the form of the dog."
"What did you do to my woman?" Artemis cried, ignoring what Hekate had said. "How did you get my bow?"
"I took your bow from your hands while you were frozen as is your woman now. The spell does no harm. It is purely a defense. I beg you to forgive me for using it against you, but I couldn't let you kill Kabeiros. He is bound to the form of a dog, I tell you. No man has violated your house."
"Bound to the form of a dog?" Artemis' glance flicked from her frozen woman to Kabeiros and back to Opis. "Loose my woman," she said.
"I have no desire to be shot," Hekate pointed out. "The arrow will fly before you can bid her not to shoot . . . if you bid her not to shoot. I'm afraid I must take her bow, as I took yours. Kabeiros, come sit on Lady Artemis' bow."
"Don't touch the arrowheads. They are death," Artemis warned Kabeiros, then bit her lip and shook her head. "I forgot he's a man. I meant to save the dog."
Kabeiros lolled out his tongue and sat down on the bow without touching the arrows at all. Hekate was pleased with his response. He was immune to magical spells—at least, she had not yet found one that affected him—but magic that was actually part of a Gift might be different.
With Kabeiros watching Artemis, Hekate approached Opis and removed her bow as she had with Artemis. The "goddess" watched her with bright eyes, clearly fascinated.
"You said words," she said, and then her eyes widened. "Are you a Titan?"
"Thialuo," Hekate said, releasing Opis, and then to Artemis, "A Titan? What's that?"
Opis had also completed the gesture of releasing her arrow and then stared open-mouthed at her empty hands. "It's all right," Artemis said to her with unexpected wry humor, "My 'guest' is collecting bows."
"She wants too much for the dog, does she?" Opis snarled, flexing her hands. "Shall I take him?"
"It isn't a dog," Artemis said. "I don't want him." She contemplated Hekate for a moment, then added, "You can go, Opis." And, as she saw the worried doubt in her woman's eyes, smiled. "She wants me to turn her dog into a man. She won't try to harm me."
She followed the woman to the archway, whispering in her ear, then came back and seated herself on a padded bench that pretended to be a fallen log. She gestured Hekate to another, which faced the painted wall. Hekate took the bows with her and set them on the bench together with the quivers. The arrowheads in Opis' quiver were ordinary bronze. Hekate thought about breaking the death-illusions of the arrowheads and then decided not to annoy or frighten Artemis with any further display of her ability.
"You asked what a Titan was," Artemis said. "They were an ancient enemy of my people, vanquished and cast out of Olympus in the time of Kronos, Zeus' father. They did magic as you do, with words and gestures . . . created spells."
"I am certainly no Titan if they lived in the time of Zeus' father. That was long before I was born."
"Oh, there are still some Titans about, just not here in Olympus. Not very long ago, several attacked the outlying farms." She sneered. "Imagine attacking the helpless native slaves. I killed one of them right at the edge of the city." She hesitated, stared at Hekate calculatingly, and added, "His spells took much longer to cast than yours. He began one, but my arrow was quicker. The fool wasn't afraid of me. He said, 'Little girl, go away,' and then that his name was Gration and he was about to reclaim the treasure from his grandfather's house. I wonder if there is a treasure there?"
Hekate raised her brows. "Has no one looked?"
"There's no way to get in. Oh, I suppose Zeus could blast the house . . . but perhaps his lightning would only destroy the house and not break the spell that binds it."
"Is that the house near the shrine of the Mother?"
Artemis' face stiffened. "Whose mother?"
"An old shrine, abandoned," Hekate said, unwilling to start any argument. "After we passed it, we came to an overgrown path. The house was behind a hedge."
"And you entered it?"
"No, of course not. I don't go into houses uninvited, even those clearly long abandoned. I didn't know to whom it belonged and it wasn't my right to enter, but I admired it. It's a handsome house."
"Very plain." Artemis wrinkled her nose. "Can you break the spell on it?"
Hekate shrugged. "I might be able to. I don't know. I didn't examine the spell. That wouldn't have been right."
"It's my right," Artemis said. "I killed Gration. His property is now mine."
"If you give your permission, I would certainly be willing to examine the spell and see if I could undo it. If I can remove the wards, would you permit me to stay in the house after you had taken from it anything you wanted?"
"Why should you want to stay in the house?"
"I thought there might not be any inns in Olympus and Kabeiros and I might be here for ten-days or even moons. We would need a place to live while we looked for a solution to Kabeiros' problem. He wishes to be able to be a man sometimes."
"He's better off as a dog."
"Perhaps, but it's his body and he has a right to use it as he likes. We have come a long way to Olympus to discover if any of the gods can cure his affliction. You saw at once that he wasn't a dog. If you could cure him, Lady Artemis, I . . . I would give you anything, anything I have."
"The freezing spell?" Artemis asked eagerly. "How could you give me a spell?"
"Just as you can create from your Gift the illusion of an arrowhead that carries death, so I can form my spell in such a way that you can take it within yourself. When you wish to use it, you need only think of drawing it forth and say the key words to invoke it."
"So I will have used it once, and then it will be gone. That's a small price to pay even for the use of Gration's house, not to mention anything else."
"Well, I did intend to pay you a rental, but I can bind to the freezing spell another that will root it to your power. Then, when you use it, it will simply put forth another bud of itself. However, I warn you that it will draw from your power, and if you use it often, that might weaken you."
"I will take the renewing spell instead of rental. If you have another spell that I think useful, perhaps I will sell the house to you."
"Cure Kabeiros, Lady Artemis, and I will build spells to your order, any spell you desire!"
There was a silence, after which Artemis shook her head.
"Can't you forget he's a man and just think of him as a sick dog? I would—"
*Don't annoy her, Hekate,* Kabeiros' mental voice was sharp and urgent. "It's not that she won't. It's that she can't. I can smell her fear and her confusion. And she can't admit she can't because she's supposed to be a goddess who can do anything.*
"Forgive me, Lady Artemis," Hekate said, bowing her head. "You have your oaths and your bindings, of which I know nothing. Perhaps they forbid you to act in Kabeiros' case. I must bow to that. If, however, I can undo the spell on Gration's house and then transfer to you the freezing spell, would you be willing to introduce me to others who might be willing to help poor Kabeiros?"
"If and if." Artemis' voice was sharp, but Hekate thought she was more defensive than angry. "There is some proving to be done before we consider rewards."
"That is fair, Lady," Hekate replied calmly, but thought once she had undone the wards, she could slap them right back on, if Artemis planned to cheat her. "But it will take me some time to examine the spell and find a way—if I can find a way—to undo it. I don't think you would wish to stand and watch me while I work. Nor would you wish to leave me completely on my own at Gration's house. Perhaps it would suit you to send a servant, or more than one, with me to watch me. Then if I manage to unlock the wards, one servant could run to fetch you while the others made sure I didn't enter the house and take anything you might want."
"You are a most sensible woman," Artemis said. "When will you be ready to begin?"
"When I have eaten and rested, Lady Artemis. Kabeiros and I have walked a long way today."
Artemis' eyes narrowed for a moment. "You can eat and rest here," she said, and then called again for Opis and told her to see to Hekate's refreshment. "And when she is ready, Opis, accompany her to Gration's house and see if she can break the spell that seals us out."