I hugged her. It was odd, but in a way I felt closer to Maia than anyone else. Father was Father, with all the advantages and disadvantages of that. And for Mother, of course, he came first, second, and third, while the rest of us came somewhere around ninth. That’s why Maia and Ficino were both so important to me. I’d realized that since Mother died. They both really did put their pupils first, after philosophy and the City. I was on the edges of Father and Mother’s lives, but I was in the heart of theirs. And that was reasonable, was all right, because after all Father was the god Apollo, and how could I possibly be as important as that? Even if now I had divine powers, and maybe I was going to be a god. (But a god of what? Flight was taken. Was there a god of translation?)

The deck lights came on. The Goodness was plainly sinking, but a few of her lights also flickered on even as she foundered. “What happened in the fighting here?” Erinna asked.

“They used a fireship,” Maia said. “But the wind changed. And they came to board us, but we stood them off. I shot one. Only a few of them got aboard. Caerellia was killed, fighting, and young Phaenarete.”

Maecenas came back just then, with Phaedrus and our wounded. “We need to get everyone back aboard and do a headcount so we know how many we’re missing,” he said. “You four get started, find out exactly who’s aboard and what condition they’re in.”

“Is Kebes dead yet?” Erinna asked.

Maecenas shook his head. “Not when I left. It might take half the night. He started screaming ‘why are you tearing me apart?’ over and over, as if he hadn’t meant to do it to Pytheas, and as if he hadn’t done it to other people before. It’s one of their standard methods of execution, they tell me. They had one of those colosseums in Marissa too, didn’t they? I don’t know that we want to trade with these people after all.”

22. Apollo

22

APOLLO