I’d hoped I would be able to talk to Andreas about something more interesting than the contents of the museum, but when Cayden had tired of running around the courtyard in his little Hoplite uniform, his father was gone.

The woman I’d seen arguing with Andreas earlier that morning helped Cayden out of the armor and handed the spear back to me with sure movements that made me wonder if she’d held a weapon like this before. Her pale eyes were unlike anything I’d ever seen, and they were eerie in their intensity.

“Thank you, Niko,” she said. Her voice was warm, but her eyes were cold and distant, and I shivered just a little as they swept over me. “Come along, Cayden, your father will be back soon,” she said before leading him away through the courtyard in the direction of the Temple of the Great Gods. Suddenly, I remembered Cayden had made a drawing of one of the vases—the one with the painting that looked like his father. I raced back inside the museum and flung the cloak and helmet back onto their hooks before collecting the drawing.

“Nikolos!” My father shouted for me as I ran past the desk, but I ignored him. I had to deliver this back to Cayden, if only for the chance that I’d be able to see his father again. But even though I had only taken a few minutes to collect the artwork, they were nowhere to be seen.

Confused, and more than a little curious, I returned to the museum with the boy’s drawing in hand. His childish scrawl was neater than I’d expected and spelled out Papá in Greek letters. I stopped beside the case that held the vase he’d drawn and crouched down to examine it from a shorter perspective. It had been a long time since I’d really looked at these artifacts, and even longer since I had cared about what they represented. As Andreas had said, this was another copy… the original called Berlin its home. The knowledge that too many ancient treasures were housed far from where they were made and discovered bothered my father more than it bothered me; at least, it hadn’t bothered me until now.

On the vase, Ares, bearded and lithe, thrust his spear into the heart of the giant Mimon. I squinted at the god’s face through the murky glass. Maybe Cayden was right… maybe Ares did look like his father. The profile was similar, but the beard was throwing me off. Andreas had a goatee—I didn’t usually find facial hair attractive, but on him, I could make an exception.

I shook my head and grinned bitterly at my reflection in the glass. “Stop being an idiot, Niko,” I muttered as I got up off my knees.

“Nikolos, it’s time to go.” My father was in his office, but his voice carried easily through the empty museum. With a deep sigh I straightened the cloaks and helmets in the children’s corner and hung Cayden’s drawing on the wall with a few others. The other children had all drawn the Nike in various interpretations of her iconic pose, or a coin they liked, but Cayden’s drawing stood out from the rest.

“Nikolos!”

“Érchomai,” I muttered. My stomach growled as I remembered we had fresh fish for dinner, but even my eagerness to eat was dimmed by the knowledge that my father would want to continue his lectures. With the deepest of sighs, I turned off the lights in the display cases and took one last look around the museum gallery. I don’t know what I was looking for, but I heard the distinct rustle of wings.

“Pigeons,” I said aloud. Those winged rats always found some way to get in and roost where they shouldn’t. My father had been putting off roof repairs until after tourist season passed, but he’d been saying that for the last five years. I’d have to remind him about it again.

Maybe that would distract him from trying to convince me that having a wife would fix all of my problems.

I rolled my eyes and walked through the museum to where my father was waiting for me. His expression was one of practiced impatience, a look I’d been treated to my entire life.

I closed the door and made sure that the deadbolt clicked into place. “Syngnómi, Papa,” I said quietly. “You should really think about calling Costas in to see about that roof, I think the pigeons have gotten in again.”

My father made a disgruntled noise and headed towards the path that led towards our home. With another gusty sigh I followed, knowing that the roof would only distract him for so long before I’d be listening to stories about what a good wife Karolos’ daughter would make.

I was wrong to hope that my father wouldn’t bring up Irida over dinner. According to my father, Irida Apostolos was the mortal incarnation of Aphrodite herself. As wise as Athena, beautiful and kind, and with “childbearing hips that would make Hera weep for joy.”

I had gritted my teeth through all of it. Arguing would only make it worse. And admitting the fact that I’d never touched a woman beyond a friendly handshake would definitely not go over well either. The expression on my father’s face was one of muted joy, as though the marriage license had already been signed and the wine opened for the traditional toast.

It was almost August, which meant my time was running out. By the time the heat of the late summer settled over the island I would have to give an answer.

The right answer.

Agree to marry the girl, stay on Samothrace and be miserable. Don’t marry the girl, go back to Athens and finish my credits… and then what? My attempts at choosing a focus of any kind had failed miserably. There was no high-paying job waiting for me when I was finished school; and if I didn’t do as I was told, I wouldn’t be able to come back here, either.

My head was full of worry as I cast my line over the choppy water and watched the lure bob in the surf. I’d been here early this morning, but I could blame that on everything rolling around inside my brain. I’d spent the last three years not really caring what came next. All I’d wanted was to be off this miserable, boring rock, I didn’t care what took me away, just as long as I was gone. I should have felt guilty for wasting my father’s money—but I didn’t. Not completely. I still hadn’t registered for my last year of classes, but if my father had his way, I would be helping him build an addition on to our house—a honeymoon suite. May as well build two for how much good it would do me.

I groaned loudly and leaned back on the rocks to stare up at the lightening sky. I’d beat the dawn here, but Eos was catching up with me.

“Nikolos?” A female voice startled me out of my misery, and I almost fell off the rock I was perched on. I turned around in surprise, and then a knot formed in the pit of my stomach at the possibility that it might be Irida Apostolos, come to visit me at her father’s command.

“Yes?”

But it wasn’t Irida. It was Thero. Her pale eyes regarded me carefully as she picked her way through the boulders that fishermen perched on. She wore the same rough wool dress as she had the first time I had seen her, and her dark hair was braided over one shoulder. Walking along beside her was Andreas’ solemn little boy. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and smiled at me when they came near.

“Kaliméra, Niko,” he said brightly. “It’s very early, but Thero said you would be here.”

“Well, she was right,” I replied with a grin.

“Niko, I have a favor to ask.” Thero’s voice held a note of desperation, and I met her eyes carefully.

“A favor?”

“Yes. I need you to watch Cayden… only for a few hours. I will be back to collect him.”

That was the last thing I’d expected her to ask me to do. “Are you sure? I mean… you barely know me.”

Thero nodded briskly. “I am a very good judge of character, Niko Kelyfos, and you’re the only one I trust to look after this boy properly.”

“Please, Niko? I want to fish with you!” Cayden pleaded. My heart melted instantly, and I beckoned him over. Cayden’s grin was enough to tell me this was what usually happened, and I chastised myself for having been duped by a child. Master manipulators, all of them.

Cayden settled himself in my lap and took my fishing rod in his hands, completely ignoring Thero as she said goodbye and thanked me again for looking after him.

We spent the early morning hours fishing, not catching much, and keeping even less as Cayden insisted on throwing them back into the ocean after giving them a kiss. Thankfully, he let me keep one for dinner, and one for him to take back to Thero.

But as the other fishermen wrapped up their lines and shuffled towards home, Thero hadn’t appeared. We retreated from the sun and sat in the shade of the rocks while Cayden asked me about all the kinds of fish that lived in the water around Samothrace.

When Thero still didn’t return, I shared my lunch with Cayden and we raced crabs along the shore until he began to yawn and I realized how late it had become. “Why don’t we go back and see if Thero is waiting for us?” I said. I didn’t want to let on how worried I was, and Cayden hadn’t seemed to notice that anything was wrong.

Cayden nodded, but when I slung the fish over my shoulder he lagged behind. “What?” I asked with a chuckle.

“I’m very sleepy,” he said.

“Éla tóra,” I said and bent down. With a grin on his face, Cayden ran over and jumped into my arms. I’d never been laden down with a child before. Fish and tackle, yes, but never a child. It was odd that I found myself thinking it was a weight I could get used to. But that wasn’t happening for me… not in this lifetime. No matter how much my father wanted it.

Cayden was quiet as we walked through the oak trees, and his warm weight was comforting against my shoulder. Maybe his father would be there when we returned and I could talk to him again. In my head, I’d been comparing him to the vase in the museum, and I wondered if he’d stand still long enough for me to compare them. For science, of course.

I turned off the path, to the stand of boulders that marked out the place where I’d first caught a glimpse of Andreas and Thero. A spider web clung to my face and tangled in my hair and I spluttered and wiped it away. “Not again,” I muttered.

The green grass of the clearing was cool and fresh beneath my feet, a far cry from the heated rocks and warmth of the dirt along the path.

“Thero?” I called out, not really ready to wake Cayden. The sound of feminine laughter rippled through the trees behind me and I spun around in confusion. I dropped the fish and my rod to the grass and shifted Cayden in my arms. “Thero? We waited for you all day. Where were you?”

“Thero isn’t here,” a voice said. The woman’s tone was made of honey and sugar, but there was something thick and poisonous beneath it. “You’re alone…”

A voice whispered in my ear, “We’ve been waiting for you, theoi.”

I spun around, holding Cayden tightly.

The speaker was a woman in a fine woolen cloak that had been dyed a rich shade of purple. She was beautiful, heart-stoppingly so, with rich brown hair and deep dark eyes; a band of gold circled her brow, and she carried a spear—no, it was a staff. Tall and slender like a spear, but instead of an iron point, there was a golden lotus flower. The woman brandished it like a weapon as she approached. More actors?

“Where is Thero, and what are you doing? Did my father hire you?” Every instinct told me to run, and instead of waiting for her answers, I turned towards the sanctuary of the oak trees. If I could get to the temple, I could get to the museum, and then it was only a few more steps to home.

“You are too late,” the voice whispered in my ear again. My heart hammered in my chest, and Cayden whimpered as I clutched him tightly, but before I could take another step that would carry us away towards freedom, there was a flash of bright light, and the grass came rushing up to meet me.