“And when I was there—I can’t remember properly, I drank from Lethe. But it seemed we were all there. Everyone. All gods of all pantheons, human, alien, everyone. All the souls. Mortals I have mourned,” I said. “All singing polyphonic harmonies.”

“The music is a metaphor. But you are there. You’re all my children.” He looked at Jathery, then back at me. “On all my worlds. You are there, were there, will be there. I nurture you with time, as plants in a sheltered garden.”

“So that you can understand, instead of knowing without understanding,” Athene said. “Comprehension.”

“And so excellence can keep on becoming more excellent,” I said. “Through choice and art.”

“I have been too content with tricks,” Jathery muttered. “I understand. I will do better.”

“We’ll see,” Father said. “Now go. Get on with it!”

21. Jason

21

JASON

It was another good haul, on a fine choppy day. The sun was too bright to make for really good fishing conditions, but we found the gloaters running deep off Thunder Point and followed them in the current, pulling them up as fast as we could heave until our tubs were full. Porphyry, for all that he was Dion’s age and a god, knew the work and put his back into it. The wind was coming up crossways as we came home, so we had to tack back, under a spectacular purple and gold sunset that meant some peak not too far off must have been pouring out dust and lava. We passed a flatboat scooping up kelp, and several other fishing boats on their way home—Moderation, West Wind, The Wise Lady—their sails reflecting the colors of the sky. Then, as I was congratulating myself on another successful day, Hilfa reported we’d sprung a leak. I went to look, and sure enough, water was seeping through between the planks amidships, where the caulking had worn thin. The weight of the full tubs was putting pressure on it. We weren’t in any danger, in sight of home and with so many other craft around, but nobody likes to see water coming through the bottom of a boat.

“Well, isn’t that always the way?” I said to myself.

“Caulk or bail or dump?” Porphyry asked from behind my shoulder, exactly as I’d have asked Dion if he’d been there and in charge. They were the only options.

“I hate to jettison, especially gloaters, and especially this close to home,” I said. “Letting them go to be caught another day is one thing, but these are dead already. And we can’t caulk properly, not down there, not without taking her out of the water. She probably needs new planking.”