“This is a strange place,” Hermes said. “Well, you can stay with me if you feel so strongly about it. Here. A votive gift.” He handed me something. I looked down at it. It was a little purse of soft leather, with a drawstring. Puzzled, I opened it. “It’ll never be empty, unless you shake it out,” he said. “And the coin you pull from it will always be enough to pay for what you want.”

I took out a coin and turned it in my fingers. I had seen coins before; they use money in Lucia. My other hand rose to my neck, to my gold pin on my jacket collar. It was forbidden to me to have gold, other than the Gold in my soul and the pin that symbolized it. I couldn’t think of a more useless gift, but I imagined it was well intended. As well as travel, Hermes was patron of the marketplace, commerce, and thieves. I decided to talk to him about our trade negotiations when there was a chance, in case he had interesting ideas. “Thank you,” I said, politely.

Pytheas was frowning. It was so strange to see him, the same but different. He was definitely my grandfather, but he seemed to be about my own age. “Marsilia is part of my family. If any harm comes to her, you’ll answer for it.”

Hermes nodded once.

Pytheas didn’t stop frowning. “We should go in and I should say hello to the rest of the family. They’ll hardly have had time to miss me. And then we should find Hilfa.”

“Why do we need to bother going inside first?” Hermes asked.

“I want to speak to Neleus. And we need Arete.”

“Hilfa speaks Greek,” I said.

“Doubtless, but whether or not you’ve discovered it, your aunt Arete has skills beyond flight and translation. Come on.” He took a step towards the door.

“Arete isn’t there. She’s at the spaceport,” I said.

Pytheas hesitated. “Then—”

“No, come on. It’ll be fun to see their faces,” Hermes said.

7. Jason

7

JASON

Now, if you were an incarnate god and you died and then resurrected and came back, the way Christians and Ikarians say Yayzu did, what would be the first thing you’d say the first time you saw your children?

Pytheas came in from the garden looking about my age, with all the silver gone from his hair. He was wearing a white kiton trimmed with a conventional blue-and-gold book and scroll pattern, and pinned with the pin that meant he was a Gold of the City. He went straight up to Neleus, and what he said absolutely flummoxed me. It was the last thing I’d have expected to hear in the circumstances. And I was right there. I can report his exact words, and they were: “Why didn’t you tell me about Hilfa?”