Barbarian, Evadne says. Acastus was right. You are from another time, something left over. Some beast. And we should cut off your feet and hands and cut out your tongue and eyes. Not because you might call on any god, but because you are an animal. Stretch out again.

Medea can’t make herself do this, but Evadne pulls one of her arms, kicks her in the back, and this is a new pain, dull and deep. Asteropeia, Medea gasps. Please.

Asteropeia won’t help you. She will do what I say.

Evadne stretches Medea and pins her arms against the stone. Her face close, looking down into Medea’s eyes, heavy hot breath, enjoying this. Whip her, she says.

Asteropeia only a girl, not yet fully grown, a child caught in something that can’t be understood. Holding a strap of leather and walking closer very slowly until she stands at Medea’s side. Innocent and frightened.

Now, Evadne says. Whip as hard as you can.

But Asteropeia is frozen, staring into Medea’s gray eyes, wolf’s eyes. She believes. She believes everything about Medea.

Hekate, Medea calls, chants in their tongue, tear the womb from every daughter of Pelias. Even this innocent. Reach inside her with your bare wolf’s claws and rend until no wall is smooth.

Cold forest, air the sound of water, track of fear. Medea must bring this forest close, make its breath visible. She stretches her jaw forward, teeth bared, feels her spine hunch and screeches from all that is terror. She twists and bites Evadne’s arm, clamps and locks her jaw.

Medea dragged over the floor by her mouth as Evadne tries to escape. Atavistic pleasure, sinking teeth into flesh, sucking air from the corners of her mouth, shaking from her neck trying to rip flesh from bone. Deepest pleasure.

Evadne in full flight now, some ape struggling low over the floor, bent on hand and foot, made a beast herself, rumored horror from far beyond Egypt, screaming. Whip forgotten. Slave forgotten. No daughter of a king but only an animal maimed. Dragging her arm with this demon attached. When she rips free, Medea tastes blood, rolls onto all fours, corners Asteropeia. Hackles raised, teeth clicking. The girl alone now with the beast.

Loose forest floor, all that has fallen and decayed. Mist in the trees, their tops gone, known only by wind, rising along every ridge. Quiet place of listening and waiting, sound impossible to locate, lost in mountains, lost in cold.

Asteropeia pressed into a corner, still holding the leather strap. Dark frightened eyes, pulse visible in her neck, beating fast.