Chapter 5 My Mother's Mark

• I did not sleep.
• By dawn, I had convinced myself the owl on the knife meant nothing. Athena's seal appeared on temple weapons, household papers, gifts to allies. It did not prove my mother wanted me harmed.
• It only proved the danger had lived close enough to touch everything I owned.
• Hestia came to breakfast carrying warm bread wrapped in linen. The quiet goddess had always been kinder than Olympus remembered to notice.
• "Food first," she said. "Truth is harder to face on an empty stomach."
• Lysander accepted the bread. "Can truth wait until Callista rests?"
• "No," I said.
• His eyes met mine, worried but respectful. "Then I am coming with you."
• Athena had invited us to a reconciliation dinner that evening. I knew what she wanted: my apology, Orion restored to his comfortable certainty, and the ugly facts hidden beneath polished marble.
• I wore black instead of Athena's silver. Lysander fastened the ribbon of our courtship around my wrist. His fingers lingered.
• "If you want to leave," he said, "look at me once. We will be gone before anyone can stop us."
• "And if I want to stay and fight?"
• His mouth curved. "Then I will try not to enjoy it too much."
• The dinner included Athena, Orion, Melantha, Paean, and three elders from Apollo's court. Hestia sat at the head because no one dared insult the goddess of the hearth at her own table.
• Melantha wore my owl pendant again.
• Athena began without greeting me. "This feud ends tonight. Callista, you will apologize for threatening Melantha's place in this family. Melantha, you will forgive her fear. Orion will delay any wedding until emotions settle."
• "How generous," I said.
• Orion leaned toward me. "Please. We can solve this privately."
• "You lost the right to ask for my silence when you used it against me."
• Melantha dabbed her eyes. "I never wanted your life."
• The doors opened.
• Iris entered in a dress that shifted through every color of the sky. Behind her came six villagers from places I had helped before the curse: a teacher from Naxos, a fisherman from Paros, two sisters from a burned village, and children carrying the blankets they had received during a winter storm.
• Melantha's face drained.
• Iris raised a hand. Images appeared above the table. They showed Melantha accepting praise for schools I had funded, healers I had paid, and homes I had helped rebuild. Then the villagers spoke my name.
• "Lady Callista slept," the teacher said, "but her work did not become someone else's."
• One of the children pointed at Melantha. "She told us Callista was never waking up."
• The words were simple. They struck harder than any speech.
• Paean stared into his cup. An Apollo elder removed Melantha's painted portrait from the list of festival honorees. Orion turned to her.
• "You said you continued the work for Callista."
• "I did!" Melantha's sweetness cracked. "Does it matter whose name people thanked? I kept her memory alive."
• "You buried it," I said.
• The fisherman placed a weathered ledger before Athena. Every donation bore my old seal. "When Lady Melantha came," he said, "she demanded we carve her face above the school door. We refused. She took back half the grain meant for our children."
• Melantha's cheeks flamed. Iris lifted one brow and showed the missing grain stacked inside Melantha's private storehouse. Even Orion could not explain that away. He pulled his hand from hers when she reached for him, and the small rejection made her look more frightened than the evidence.
• She stood so quickly her chair fell. "You wake after three years and expect everything to crawl back into your hands. Orion loves me. Athena trusts me. Why can't you let me have one thing?"
• I touched the broken laurel crown Iris had placed before me. "Because your one thing is always mine."
• The room erupted. Orion demanded answers. The elders whispered. Athena ordered Iris to end the images.
• Hestia struck the table once with her palm.
• Every flame in the room rose.
• "A hearth is not peaceful when one daughter must burn to keep another warm," she said.
• Athena went very still.
• For the first time, shame touched her face.
• Lysander placed the assassin's knife on the table.
• "There is more."
• Orion recognized it at once. His cup slipped from his hand. "That blade disappeared."
• "Someone sold it yesterday." Lysander turned the hilt so everyone could see the owl. "It carries the mark of Athena's house."
• All eyes moved to my mother.
• Melantha whispered, "Callista, surely you don't think - "
• "I don't know what to think." My voice shook despite every effort. "That is the problem. No one told me the truth when I was awake. Why would they tell me while I slept?"
• Athena rose. "The seal can be copied."
• "Can it?" Lysander asked.
• She did not answer.
• I looked at the goddess who had taught me to question every story except hers. "Did you know about the attack?"
• "No."
• The denial came quickly. Too quickly.
• Paean suddenly pushed back from the table. "Lady Athena, forgive me. I cannot keep this burden."
• Apollo's elders told him to be silent. He ignored them.
• "Three years ago, before Callista was brought to me, I received a message bearing your seal," he said. "It ordered me to keep her asleep if she survived the blade."
• The room disappeared around me.
• Athena's face became a mask. "You misunderstand what you read."
• "Then explain it," I demanded.
• She looked at Melantha. Just once.
• That glance was enough.
• I stood, nearly knocking over my chair. Lysander caught my elbow, but he did not hold me in place.
• "You had three years to explain," I said. "You chose her every day."
• Athena reached for me. I stepped back.
• The hurt in her eyes arrived too late to soothe mine.
• Outside, thunder rolled across a clear sky. Zeus had heard the accusation. Soon all Olympus would hear it too.
• Melantha began to cry again, but this time no one moved to comfort her.
• I took the knife from the table and held my mother's mark between us.
• "Until I know who ordered my death," I said, "I have no mother."