“Boas, bronze. Archimedes, iron. Arete, gold.” I hadn’t really doubted it, but it was a great relief nevertheless. Archimedes punched my arm, and I punched his back. We both had what we wanted. He was right, of course he was, we could trust them, they knew where we belonged. I could never have faced Father or my brothers if I hadn’t made gold. I had felt confident that I deserved it, except for that moment when the speeches seemed to be going on forever. I went up the steps and took my pin, the bee Mother had designed when she’d been younger than I was now. I pinned my kiton with it immediately, and saw the gold gleam against the cloth, the only gold I would ever own. I was so delighted that I couldn’t help smiling. Then I lifted off my wreath and knelt, with my back to the square, and the archon took the shears and cut off all my hair at the nape of my neck. I stood again and put the wreath back on. I felt odd without my hair; lighter. He had missed one strand, which tickled against my newly bare neck.

I went down two steps, as we had been instructed, and waited while Archimedes, and then Boas, were given their pins and had their hair cut in turn. Then the Archon took the mass of hair from all three of us and thrust it onto the smoldering fire on the altar. It blazed up at once and made a horrible stink, but she threw on some incense which soon masked that.

“You are no longer children,” the other Archon said, his voice booming. “Come here and swear your allegiance to the City.”

We went up one at a time in reverse order, Boas first and me last. I listened as the others swore. It was a great oath. I’d had it memorized for years, since my brothers took it. Boas swore, and the Archon marked his forehead with ash, then Archimedes did the same, looking awed and solemn now. Then it was my turn. I took the two steps up and moved just as they had done, so that I stood between the Archons. I was behind the altar for what would probably be the only time in my life unless I became an Archon. I set both hands palm-down on the marble top of the altar, careful to place them on either side of the sacrifice. The smoke of hair and incense was streaming straight up into a clear sky. I looked out through it over the crowd, seeing Father and my brothers watching, and Maia, who was wiping her eyes. I took a deep breath and spoke loudly and clearly, projecting to fill the space, as I had been taught when I was Briseis in the Dionysia.