“We have decided to work on getting Athene back first, before addressing the issue of Jathery’s imposture,” Pytheas said, with a glare at Jathery. He walked over to the table. Arete and Ikaros followed close behind. Pytheas set the papers down on top of the pile of books Ikaros had laid down there earlier. The four of them bent over the papers. Arete at once switched them into a different order.

Sokrates looked at me, and I jumped. “You’ve been very quiet. What’s your connection with all this?”

“I’m here because I’m Hilfa’s friend,” I said. Hilfa stopped rocking and nodded.

“An admirable reason,” he said. “Your name is Jason, Pytheas said. I see you’re a Silver?”

“Yes,” I said, emboldened by his approval. “We work on a fishing boat with Marsilia.”

“Yes, I can read it,” Arete said, from across the room. “It’s a technical description of how to get out into the primal Chaos and back. It sounds preposterously dangerous. There’s no justification or explanation here of why she did it or why anyone would want to, or why she left it scattered in pieces.”

“But you can read it?” Pytheas asked. “Translate it!”

“I could,” Arete said. “But, Father, I’d need a good reason as to why I should. This is extremely dangerous information, and Athene didn’t come back. I see no reason why it would be any less dangerous for you. If gods can get lost out there, it’s bad enough to lose one, and much worse to lose two.”

“If you won’t translate it, you’ll force us to take it to Father,” Pytheas said. Now that they were standing nose to nose glaring at each other, I could see that they were exactly the same height.

“Explain to me why that is a bad thing?” Arete asked. I was feeling increasingly uncomfortable hearing them arguing about such things. But Hilfa was still shivering in my arms, so I stayed where I was and tried to be reassuring. Thetis smiled at me over Marsilia’s head, and that in itself was reason enough to stay. “You should take it to Zeus,” Arete went on. “You said you wanted to see her explanation first—well, there isn’t any, in the sense of justification for why she did it.”

“I told you why she did it.” Pytheas stalked back to his chair and flung himself down. “And I explained why I don’t want to go to Father.”

“Do we have to take any action?” Arete asked.

Pytheas glowered at her. “You can read us the instructions and then we can attempt to rescue her. Or if you refuse, we can go to Father, though I fear the consequences. Those are our choices. We can’t leave her stranded out there and do nothing, no. That’s not an acceptable option.”