No one.
The chanting faded away. Confused, I spun on my heel toward the exit. Was this magic?
If so, I'd underestimated the ritual. I never imagined a priestess could disappear from the sanctuary.
The scent swelled, filling the sanctuary and I gagged on it. Gods. This was worse than the fisherman's wharf at low tide!
Placing my hand over my nose, I hurried toward the exit. My excitement drained away, and a small spark of anger fired off. Maybe this was a jest. A very not-funny jest designed by the young priestesses. Or an initiation of sorts.
That made sense. Becoming a priestess meant being initiated a thousand different ways. Blindly, I made my way through the door. But when I walked through, I didn't find myself in the hall as I should have, but the same place as before.
A breeze shot past me, extinguishing the candles and bringing with it a headier, more pungent smell.
I tried to stay calm.
This could all be a dream. Perhaps I fell asleep on the steps of the temple? Or I had prayed too hard and was now in a vision like the older priestesses claimed they had. There were any manner of things that could be happening, none of it necessarily bad.
Except for the smell.
I didn't think I could take it. Breathing through my mouth, I placed my hand over my heart and felt it pounding through my chest.
“Kneel,” commanded an unfamiliar voice.
I was back in the van.
Paris held my hands and stared at my face. “It wasn't my memory.” The words were unnecessary, but he seemed to need to say them.
“I know,” I replied.
“What was it?” Hector asked, gaze jumping from me to his brother.
I swallowed. “How much time passed?” I asked, causing Hector to eye Paris.
Next to me, Orestes moved closer until our thighs touched. “The blink of an eye,” he whispered. “What did you see? Whose memory was it?”
Paris watched me. He didn't say anything, but I knew what he was waiting for. Revealing the vision was up to me. I could tell them what I saw, or I could keep it to myself. It was my secret.
“A—” My throat closed. What was wrong with me? I took a breath and tried again, but all I could hear was that voice, echoing in my mind.Kneel.
Kneel.
I stared at Paris.Help.
He nodded. “It was a vision of Medusa's life.” Thank goodness he used that name, and not mine. I didn't know how much longer I could keep drawing a line between me and her, but it was the only thing keeping me together right now.
The memory the seal showed me was mine.
“Her memory,” Orestes repeated.
I could close my eyes and see it all, and from a historical perspective, it was amazing. No other historian could do more than imagine what Athena's temple looked like.
I had lived and breathed there. I had been transformed there.
“It's changing.” Paris held the seal, transferring it from one hand to the other. “It only showed our memories, but now it is tapping into—” He hesitated as our eyes met, unsure of what to say,hers? Yours?He didn't want to hurt me.
Get your shit together, Leo.It wasn't just hers. It wasn't just mine. “Ours,” I filled in.Hers and mine.“It has to be. It's going to take me some time to make sense of it all.”
“There's no rush,” Paris said quickly. “And you're not alone. Not even in those visions.”