Another thing that didn’t help was that every one of the Children, my parents’ whole generation, had lost their home and parents when they were ten years old. Compared to that, losing Mother when I was fifteen shouldn’t have been anything to cry about. Only Maia seemed to understand. She took me for a walk along the cliffs and told me about losing her father, and how she had lost her whole world and her whole life with him, and all her books. “You still have your books,” she said, encouragingly. “You can still read and study. Philosophy will help.”

I thought about that. Reading did help, when it took me away from myself, when I had time to do it. But it was history I read, and poetry, and drama. Playing Briseis helped. It was a distraction. Philosophy required rigorous thought and didn’t seem to help at all. It all seemed wrong, but refuting it was always hard work. I knew Maia, who definitely had one of Plato’s philosophical souls, wouldn’t understand that. But there was something philosophical I thought she might be able to answer. “Plato says that people shouldn’t show their grief. It seems to me that Father is doing exactly what Plato says you shouldn’t do.”

Maia put her hand on my shoulder comfortingly. “It’s hard to argue that he isn’t! But you have to let Pytheas deal with his own grief while you deal with yours. He’s a grown man, and you shouldn’t be worrying about how he’s grieving. Simmea wouldn’t have wanted you to bottle it all up any more than she’d have wanted Pytheas to howl his out.”

I stared away from her. Clouds were boiling up out of the east and the sea was the color of cold lava, flecked with little white wave-caps. It was hard to believe it was the same sea where I swam in summer, warm and blue. I could see the rocks where Mother and I had often pulled ourselves up to sit for a while before turning back, where I had first been introduced to dolphins. The sea was lashing them now, an angry note of black rock and white spray. The wind was cold and I was glad of my cloak. “It’s so difficult,” I said. “And I can’t just ignore Father. But no ships can sail in this weather.”

“Even Pytheas doesn’t want to send out his expedition until spring,” Maia said.

“I don’t think she would have wanted vengeance,” I said. I had tears in my eyes, but the cold wind carried them away to fall salt into the salt sea.