“I never accepted it, but they offered it to all of us, and when they attacked everyone they definitely broke it. You had eaten their food, and they attacked you anyway. Kebes organized that attack, so he broke it,” I said. “Besides, that music wasn’t original. It came from the twentieth century. He was cheating and he thought nobody would know.”

Arete drew in her breath sharply, and Kallikles gasped. “How did he know it?”

“He wouldn’t tell me. It must be some god interfering.”

“I’m glad you punished him for it,” Kallikles said.

“Yes. And now that’s over. Done with. Settled.” I tried to feel it was true as I said it. But no matter how much I wanted it to be, nothing felt settled by Kebes’s death, and it gave me no relief.

“What about the Goodness?” Kallikles asked.

“Let them build triremes,” I said, lying back, deliberately trying to relax. They weren’t my people, or my responsibility, or anything to do with me. “Let Yayzu look after them. How surprised he will be when he takes notice of them praying to him from here!”

The sun was warm, and after a little while I did begin to relax a little. The Young Ones sat quietly in the sun. I kept feeling that I had left something unfinished. Not skinning Kebes. I had done that thoroughly, made a proper job of the whole messy business. And now he wasn’t walking around gloating about raping Simmea, or sneering at Arete, or passing off other people’s art as his own. His soul was free for a new beginning, and the world was a better place without him. All the same, I felt as if something was missing. Absent or present, Kebes had been a rival for a long time. I felt emptier without him.

Just then, surprising me utterly, Arete rose up off the rock, neat as Hermes, and flew through the air. It had been such a long time since I’d seen anyone really fly. When in my proper form I could hover in the air, and walk on it, naturally, but I’ve never been able to swoop about like a bird the way she was doing.

“Stand up and let me try carrying you,” she called to Kallikles.

He stood up at once and held his arms out. “Don’t drop me!”

“I won’t. But you’d land in the sea! Or if you don’t want to, you could just walk down the air. Don’t be a baby!”

She swooped down from behind and carried him up with her. I’d never seen anything like it. She made several loops in the air, with him dangling from her arms.

“Is he heavy?” I called.

“No! It’s not difficult at all. I can barely feel his weight—not like holding up a person, more like carrying a baby.”