“Oh, I don’t think it would be a problem if we want to send somebody. They can send somebody too, if they want to. We wouldn’t speak for them, only for ourselves. We’re not subject to Lucia. Though of course, we know how much we owe them, and we’re all good friends.”

Our sailing plan did not allow for bad weather. The weather, which had been good all the way from Kallisti, now let us down badly. The first day I was reminded of the storms in the Aeneid and the Odyssey. Many people were sick, and we had to manage the ship short-handed. I fell once wrestling sails, and did instinctively fly for a moment until I could regain the yard. I don’t think anyone saw anything more than a well-recovered stumble; they were all too busy with their own tasks. The second day, when there was no letup in the gale, it reminded me of my dream where the ship was history being blown out of control by stormwinds. After that the days blurred together and the storm didn’t remind me of anything except itself. I was quite sure we were going to founder, and worried about how long I could fly and how many people I could carry. There were just too many people aboard I loved. I finally understood Father not wanting all of us to come. It wasn’t even possible to stay near one person I cared about. Too much of the time, if we’d breached I wouldn’t have been able to save any of them. I decided that Phaedrus and Kallikles could save themselves, and if Erinna and Maia and Ficino and Neleus and Father weren’t near enough I’d just grab whoever was and save them, even if it was sarcastic Caerellia or grumpy Phaenarete. I slept in exhausted snatches and took water to those too weak to fetch it for themselves. I discovered I had no divine abilities to heal, no sense of what was wrong with people the way Phaedrus described.

When I woke on the fourth or fifth morning to smooth sailing, and clear skies with visible stars, I actually wept.

18. Arete

18

ARETE

We had been blown in all directions, too far from safe harbors, and had sailed with the wind, avoiding islands as hazards. We were sure we were far to the northwest of Chios. We had no idea where we were. We hadn’t seen any islands for days except as chaotic shapes whose rocks could destroy us. Now we had an even wind, and we were sailing east. Some people said we should head back to Marissa, or home to Kallisti, but Maecenas was set on visiting Lucia.