“Perhaps. My plans aren’t settled as of yet,” I confess.
“Come, have a seat with me in the back, ladies,” Siobhan welcomes us back behind the counter with a broad smile. “I can brew some tea and we can discuss opportunities.”
We wend our way through the swinging doors to a small kitchen space. Siobhan places a kettle on a little black stove with a fire happily crackling in its belly, preparing the teapot with a blend of dried leaves, while Lyra and I settle at the rough-topped table with seating for four. Herbs and flowers hang drying overhead and a host of potted plants line the back windows.
A large clear crystal rests in the center of her table, and I take it to mean she may have been trained in divination at her temple. Glancing around the space, I breathe deeply, feeling a sense of calm I haven’t felt in years as the pungent aroma of different medicinals mix to wrap me in a redolent hug – this is an existence I could get used to. Lyra sits close, both of us silent, until Siobhan joins us with the steaming herbal tea.
“So, let’s start with the difficult topic first. Which temple are you from, Andromeda?” Siobhan asks, pouring tea more carefully than strictly necessary, to avoid meeting my eyes.
The question is a stab to the heart, but my hands are steady as I take a sip of the tea. “The Western coast. And you?”
“Northern point,” Siobhan replies. Her temple was one of the first hit by Blackwell’s men.
“How did you escape?” I ask quietly.
“I’m sure in a similar fashion to you.” A flicker in the muscle of her jaw and tightening of her lips are the only indication of discomfort at the topic. Lyra stares into the red-hued tea silently.
“And you were brought here by Lennox?” I continue, the pang of jealousy I feel carefully tucked away so neither of my companions notice. Was the surgery space on the ship hers before it was mine?
“I was. Lennox found me in an alley on the Western coast a few years back and swept me up to bring me here,” she explains while sipping her tea. “I was in… unfortunate… condition at the time, but I was lucky enough to have Marie offer me the chance to help the elderly man who ran the apothecary.
“I aided him in the shop and through the end of his life. When he passed, I was able to purchase it. My training at the temple meant I already knew the remedies, so I only had to learn the business side of things. Having an assistant — or co-owner — would be very helpful,” she looks at me now with hope in her eyes. Perhaps I am not the only one who misses the sisterhood of my fellow priestesses.
Quickly, she shifts the subject, and I am glad for it. “So, Lyra, tell me what Andromeda has taught you.”
The afternoon passes pleasantly while the three of us discuss remedies, island gossip, and other blissfully inconsequential things. As we prepare to leave, I turn to Siobhan and take her freckled hand in my own.
“Will you be celebrating the full moon tomorrow night?” I ask.
“I usually celebrate quietly on my own to mark the phases, but… do you mean…?” She trails off before asking her question, brow lightly furrowed in question.
“On the beach, for a ceremony. Please come,” I implore, lightly squeezing her fingers. It would be lovely to have another sister on the beach.
After a moment of thought, Siobhan’s grip tightens in return. “Yes, I would love to. I’ll be there.” Her bright smile reaches her eyes as she bids us goodbye. When we step into the afternoon sunlight, my mood has brightened to match its rays.
Lyra and I spend the remainder of the daylight soaking in the warmth of the sun as we stroll along the white sandy beach. We kick off our shoes and hold up our skirts to allow the cool clear waves to wash up over our feet and ankles. For these few hours, the worries that continuously turn over in my mind are forgotten, tossed into the breeze with the emotions I refuse to permit to intrude on the pleasantries. For once, I simply exist in the moment.
The camps on the beach are filled with the dissonant sounds of men, and a few women, cooking, gambling, joking, and relaxing before another lengthy voyage. I recognize a few members of our crew and give small waves of acknowledgment, but we keep to ourselves as we enjoy the beauty of this new place. The island is a beautiful contrast to where we originated: full of life and merriment compared to the solemn shores we left behind.
Together, we walk arm in arm down the sandy streets back to our boarding house as the sun finally dips into the sea. Upon entering the courtyard, Lyra retreats to her room immediately, while I take a moment to request a tray be brought for my evening meal. I pause at my door, glancing at the locked door next to it, wishing Lennox was back to spend the night with, but, instead, I slip into my empty quarters to spend the night alone with my thoughts.
Chapter 31
The next morning I awake yet again with no plans. Lyra informed me last night that she is visiting her grandmother for lunch and invited me to join her, but I politely declined as quickly as the invitation was extended. While I wait for my breakfast tray, I sit at the vanity, brushing through my loose hair.
Between the sea voyage and my time here on the island, the sun has added a pink hue to my cheeks. The once sharp planes of my face seem less severe than they appeared in the dark glass at the House, filling out after gaining some weight. I can almost see a glimpse of the young woman I was years ago looking back at me in the reflection, except my eyes are no longer bright and curious — I don’t think the wary fierceness will ever depart them now. Like a wild beast held in captivity too long, I might tolerate my handler, but I will never fully trust them.
The door between my chamber and Lennox’s remains firmly closed. No noise has reached me through the wall to indicate he has slept in his room since he departed my bed, except for the knock I refused to answer – something I now regret.
My eyes rake over the half-packed trunk and the pile of discarded sheer dresses I sorted through yesterday, a reminder that I must decide my plans, and soon. My stay in this room ends once the Bartered Soul departs, and I feel unmoored without knowing my next step.
Speaking with Siobhan yesterday gives me hope that the island’s inhabitants and visitors will be open to having another former priestess as a healer in their midst. No one has accosted me here, and I feel relatively safe for the first time in a long while.
At the House of Starlight, I grew bold and haughty — protected by the secure walls of the brothel, the shadows I lurked in, and my fallen status. I carefully hid any signs that I might still honor the Goddess – my muted sigil and my past merely a novelty there. Men sought to bed a trained priestess for her notoriety, her beauty, her skills of the flesh – not for anything sacred like they would have paid for at the temple. Even so, I wielded my skills at seduction as a shield, pretending I was still the brave young woman I had been in Athene, someone that men bowed to and respected. But outside those walls, on the streets of Artemisia, I remained cloaked in fear — like a stag in a kingswood, always on the lookout for danger.
Having a friend – friends, if I include Siobhan – is novel to me. Sharing tea and pleasantries with these women cracked something within that had been locked away, and it feels easier to imagine a life for myself here. A life no longer hiding or running from my past, or quaking in fear and hiding my brow when soldiers walk past. Here, maybe the weight of these past years would finally lift from my shoulders and mind.
Choosing to focus solely on my choice in whether to stay or not, I don’t examine the other feelings that torment me when I think of the future – the hope that Lennox won’t leave me. That he won’t go find another lonely refugee in an alley or brothel to carry to safety, forgetting about me here burning for him in the warm island sun.