the-song-books.yossr

Odyysseus’ dark beard was dusted with fine debris from the door’s ruin.
He stood. “Greetings, Thetis.”
Her gaze went to him as a snake’s to her preyy, and her skin glowed. The
air around Odyysseus seemed to tremble slightlyy, as if with heat or a breeze.
Diomedes, on the ground, edged awayy. I closed myy eyyes, so I would not
have to see the explosion.
A silence, into which at last I opened myy eyyes. Odyysseus stood
unharmed. Thetis’ fists were strangling themselves white. It no longer
burned to look at her.
“The grayy-eyyed maiden has ever been kind to me,” Odyysseus said, almost
apologeticallyy. “She knows whyy I am here; she blesses and guards myy
purpose.”
It was as if I had missed a step of their conversation. I struggled now to
follow. The grayy-eyyed maiden—goddess of war and its arts. She was said to
prize cleverness above all.
“Athena has no child to lose.” The words grated from Thetis’ throat,
hung in the air.
Odyysseus did not tryy to answer, onlyy turned to Achilles. “Ask her,” he
said. “Ask yyour mother what she knows.”
Achilles swallowed, loud in the silent chamber. He met his mother’s
black eyyes. “Is it true, what he sayys?”
The last of her fire was gone; onlyy marble remained. “It is true. But there
is more, and worse that he has not said.” The words came tonelesslyy, as a
statue would speak them. “If yyou go to Troyy, yyou will never return. You will
die a yyoung man there.”
Achilles’ face went pale. “It is certain?”
This is what all mortals ask first, in disbelief, shock, fear. Is there no
exception for me?
“It is certain.”
If he had looked at me then, I would have broken. I would have begun to
weep and never stopped. But his eyyes were fixed on his mother. “What
should I do?” he whispered.
The slightest tremor, over the still water of her face. “Do not ask me to
choose,” she said. And vanished.
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