Eleven

I awoke in yet another new place. I found myself in a dark room with nothing but a small window that allowed a tiny trickle of sunlight. The bed I lay on was thin, hard, and smelled, and felt, like straw. Next to the bed was a washbasin and a vacant chair. There wasn't much else that I could see and, even though it took me a moment, I quickly remembered where I was and how I wound up here.

Paris' home.

The smells were the next to overwhelm me. Manure, straw, livestock. And fresh bread. The last smell was enough to coax a tentative gurgle from my stomach. Apparently, the fruit and chunk of bread I had eaten earlier wasn't enough to satisfy my greedy body.

As promised, Chiron and his daughter led us straight into the joyous arms of Paris' father, Agelaus. The centaur had made himself scarce, to avoid any unwanted questions, though I knew he was close.

A raven was perched nearby, cawing and celebrating our return.

The hill we rounded gave way to the mountain, which had been but a blue silhouette painted against the bright sky. It reminded me of the Lonely Mountain in The Hobbit. The one where Bilbo and his merry pack of dwarves travelled to defeat the dragon Smaug. It was literally a lonely mountain. Its solo peak reached as high as it could to catch the lazy clouds that wandered by.

Nestled at the base was Paris' home. An old, what I presumed to be a standard Greek farm. It was so tiny but cozy and picturesque. And, with the giant mountain propped up behind it, it felt safe. I genuinely felt like the worst was behind me. With Chiron, Melanippe and Paris by my side, it certainly seemed that way.

Now, I climbed to my feet, swaying a bit under the sudden influx in movement. The stretch of my feet then caught my attention. It was like my skin had been pulled too tight. They were freshly bandaged with what looked to be fresh bandages, none of that garbage rags I'd ripped up. They added some cushion as well, making it easier to tread across the floor.

The door to the room swung open so suddenly that I stumbled back onto the bed with a pained grunt. A flood of light followed Paris as he rushed forward, equally surprised by me standing upright. He carried a small tray with some olives, cured meat, bread and fruits. The sight sent another round of demands for my stomach. I hoped he didn't feel the heat radiating off my cheeks as he set the tray on the chair to help me.

"You're awake," he said with a sigh of relief. "I was worried that you might not wake up again."

"Oh, really?" I asked, all but snatching the plate from the chair. "How long did I crash for?"

I'd been so exhausted I must have fallen into a coma.

Oh, sweet, glorious food. Proper food, mind you. I'd never had a meal so incredibly delicious before, even if it was a simple platter. The bread had been baked to perfection, with no need for any butter to soften it. The cured meat was surprisingly flavourful and chewy, while the fruit? The fruit was beyond anything we had back home. This was a time before additives and chemicals, and GMOs. What was on my plate was straight up organic at its root.

"Crash?"

"Oh, um, I mean slept." I swallowed my mouthful of bread, tearing another chunk off.

Paris dropped into the chair and tapped the tray absently. He looked better than ever. Only a small, bruised scratch indicated that he almost bled out.

"Ah. You were asleep for about two days. Usually, when someone sleeps that long the chances are not so good, and they are ready for the trip to the Underworld."

Just like that, the bread turned to ash in my mouth. "Two days? I was out for two days?" I was not expecting that. Sure, maybe a few hours, but two days? I must have been exhausted.

Paris shrugged. "My father said that that sometimes happens when the body is under a lot of stress. You needed that time to heal your humors."

"Humors?" I squished a piece of bread absently. "Oh, right... that."

I remembered learning about them before. There were four in total. All used to indicate illness and a balance in humans. The medical idea that actually started the study into human health. The only ones I could recall off the top of my head were yellow bile and black bile. What modern medicine and science said were anxiety, stress, and exhaustion, in ancient Greece they were considered an imbalance of the humors in some way. They didn't have names for sicknesses, and even though they'd been completely wrong about how things worked, this had been a revolutionary moment for humans in the medical field.

"I think they're all in balance now," I replied carefully, "just a little tired, that's all. And hungry. Where's Chiron?"

"There is plenty of food to go around. Chiron is waiting on the mountain. He is eager for you to meet him."

"I'll go to him once I'm done," I said, staring at my plate. "You know, thank you... for coming for me... you shouldn't have done that." I peeked up at him. "You are a lot different from the person I was led to believe you were, Paris."

Which, of course, was the wrong thing to say. Paris stiffened and looked at me with a trace of suspicion. "And what were you led to believe? The gods? Have they been saying things about me?"

"I-it doesn't matter," I mumbled hastily. "I should go find Chiron."

I set the plate down and scrambled to my feet. Paris grabbed my arm, forcing me around to face him.

"Alexis, are you working for the gods?"

I gaped at him and tried to pull my arm away. "Why on earth would I ever—?"

"You were with Athena," he remarked. "You are protected by the dryads, Chiron, Apollo. And you seem to know things about me. Things you are keeping secret. Tell me what you know."

I finally wrenched my arm free and glared at him. I felt bad for lying, but telling him the truth about everything just felt wrong.

"Paris, I'm definitely not working for the gods. If anything, they're screwing with me too." Royally. "I don't know what happened that night, but what I can tell you is that there are some things about me you wouldn't understand."

Which, of course, was another wrong thing to say. You know the saying, keep your mouth shut? Yeah, I should have followed that one.

"So, enlighten me." Paris crossed his arms. The warmth had dimmed in his eyes, a frosty chill settling over the dying embers. "You suddenly appear, speaking in a weird accent with strange words. You seem to know me, or some version of me, and you bring trouble with you." He tilted his head. "Do you think I'm a fool?"

"No, of course not."

I squeezed my eyes shut as if it would make this conversation disappear. I could just tell him. How easy that would be. But this was too much for even him to understand. A time traveller from the future? Please. If Back to the Future taught me anything, it was that I couldn't say anything. If I did, I'd mess up the whole timeline... even if that timeline was technically a story written by an ancient Greek. I was playing a game that Zeus had cooked up, and I didn't really know all the rules. But I'd found my first clue.

"Look, Paris, it's not that I think you're a fool," I said slowly. "There are just some things that I can't tell you. And I know this is going to sound utterly ridiculous considering this whole conversation. You can trust me. I'm not here to do anything. All I want is to get back to my home and to do that. I need your help."

Paris stared at me for a long, unwavering moment until I couldn't help but shift uncomfortably. The distrust was worse than anything. He knew I was hiding more than I was sharing, but I hoped whatever I gave him would be enough. I still needed to be careful.

"I should go see what Chiron wants," I continued, wrapping my arms around my torso.

A deep, gravelly voice sliced through our conversation, so suddenly, I jumped out of my skin.

"Paris. I need you to help with the sheep."

The shepherd prince glanced behind him and then back at me. The chill was melting, dripping into the warming fire in his eyes. It should have been reassuring, but it wasn't. "I hope that you can tell me everything in due time, Alexis. I'll help you if you help me in return." He glanced over his shoulder again before leaning in closer and dropping his voice to a whisper. "Help me get to Ilios. I want to see the world."

"Of course," I whispered. "That hasn't changed. I'll help you."

With a small smile, Paris ducked out of the room. I wrapped my arms around my waist, staring after him. Then I drew in a long, deep breath and plunged out of the room after him.