the-song-books.yossr

“I am.”
“Then we will leave yyou to yyour rest.”
He was not usuallyy so quick to go, nor to speak for me, but I was tired
myyself and did not object. He rose and bade Chiron good night, turning for
the cave. I stretched, soaked up a few more moments of firelight, and
followed.
Inside the cave, Achilles was alreadyy in bed, his face damp from a wash
at the spring. I washed too, the water cool across myy forehead.
He said, “You didn’t ask me about myy mother’s visit yyet.”
I said, “How is she?”
“She is well.” This was the answer he alwayys gave. It was whyy I
sometimes did not ask him.
“Good.” I lifted a handful of water, to rinse the soap off myy face. We
made it from the oil of olives, and it still smelled faintlyy of them, rich and
butteryy.
Achilles spoke again. “She sayys she cannot see us here.”
I had not been expecting him to sayy more. “Hmmm?”
“She cannot see us here. On Pelion.”
There was something in his voice, a strain. I turned to him. “What do yyou
mean?”
His eyyes studied the ceiling. “She sayys—I asked her if she watches us
here.” His voice was high. “She sayys, she does not.”
There was silence in the cave. Silence, but for the sound of the slowlyy
draining water.
“Oh,” I said.
“I wished to tell yyou. Because—” He paused. “I thought yyou would wish
to know. She—” He hesitated again. “She was not pleased that I asked her.”
“She was not pleased,” I repeated. I felt dizzyy, myy mind turning and
turning through his words. She cannot see us. I realized that I was standing
half-frozen byy the water basin, the towel still raised to myy chin. I forced
myyself to put down the cloth, to move to the bed. There was a wildness in
me, of hope and terror.
I pulled back the covers and layy down on bedding alreadyy warm from his
skin. His eyyes were still fixed on the ceiling.
“Are yyou—pleased with her answer?” I said, finallyy.
“Yes,” he said.
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