Ariadne
She stared at the man across from her, laughing with his head thrown back, and frowned. What was so funny? He’d tried to poison her, she was sure of it. She’d taken a drink of the clear, straw-colored liquid, thinking it another form of water, only to taste a foul, vinegary concoction that burned her throat. And now he laughed at her.
He might be beautiful when he laughed, but she seriously disliked him. He thought her an idiot, she could tell. She wasn’t stupid or naïve. She spoke perfect Greek, French, and English, could paint a sunset to make him cry, and ran faster than anyone else in her herd.
As children and teenagers, they were encouraged to live in both forms, running free as horses when they wished and trying out their human form too. They were schooled in the barn twice a week by the few adults of their herd who elected to change into human form in order to teach.
True, once they reached adulthood, they were expected to spend much of their time in horse form. They believed it a tribute to the gods who gave them the gift of living in such an amazing form. They were horses, but more powerful than any ordinary horse. They lived for hundreds of years, could run faster than a cheetah, and possessed incredible strength. The land on which they lived held deep meaning for them, and they would run across the fields or up the mountains as a herd. Almost one entity, so in tune with one another were they.
They didn’t have time for fripperies, for human habits, as those things didn’t matter. They also viewed it as an affront to the gods to spend too much time on luxury or in their human bodies. Humans were mostly licentious beings, who enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh far too much.
The horse shifters knew their history. The history of the gods. The battles between their kind and humans so many, many years ago. And they were taught the positive elements of human nature as children. Their love of art and poetry. Their science and mathematics. But they didn’t watch movies or sit and drink cups of tea. And they most certainly did not covet material goods or drink alcohol and party.
Somewhere along the way, humans began to think they were the gods. They behaved as the gods did, partying and fornicating. They made a mess of the planet they were bequeathed, and her herd rejected such a way of living. So, they mostly chose to live in their equine form and to be among nature, but it was a choice. Not because they were inferior to other shifters or incapable of being human. Now those beloved brethren of hers were gone.
She’d never felt so alone or bereft, and the pretty fool opposite her laughed as if she were a joke.
“They say the gods disapprove of humans living like this.” She popped a grape into her mouth and bit down, relishing the sweet taste of the fruit.
Thalos stopped laughing and wiped at his eyes. “Come again?”
“This.” She swept her arms around her. “This room is like something fit for the gods. They say the gods don’t approve of humans living this way.”
“Well, I’m not human.”
She opened her mouth to speak again, but he held up a hand. “And the gods can get lost for all I care. They haven’t bothered with any of us in years. I doubt they care what humans, shifters, or any of the creatures on this lump of rock do. They might not even exist anymore. Personally, I am not sure if they were gods or just highly magical preternatural beings. Magicians who got drunk on their own stories and started to believe them.”
She gasped, genuinely scandalized by his words. “You don’t believe that.”
“That’s the thing, Ariadne.” He picked up a spear of asparagus and pointed it in her direction before taking a bite with his pearly whites. “I don’t know what I believe anymore. I don’t care one way or the other.”
“How can you live like that? With no real beliefs and nothing you care for?”
He shrugged at her, his broad shoulders highlighted by the fall of the cream linen shirt he wore. It lay open at his neck and showed nothing but smooth, golden skin. She wondered what he looked like in horse form. Would he be as beautiful then? Certainly, she’d never seen such a handsome male. He appeared almost gilded. In fact, she wouldn’t have been surprised to hear him say he was a god himself, he looked so ridiculously beautiful.
“I’ve lived just fine for many years. I don’t believe in religion. Or having to adhere to old rituals just because someone says drinking a jug of water under the full moon will please some possibly fictitious deity.”
“And are you happy, Thalos? Not believing in anything? Not having any…ritual in your life?”
His face lost its open look, and his jaw tensed. “I’m perfectly happy, yes.”
She tasted the lie on the words. The hollow ring of deceit in them. She wasn’t sure if he was lying to her or to himself.
“Come, it’s getting late. Let me show you to your room for the night.” He picked up the cloth on the table by his plate, letting the silver things fall to the side. He wiped at his face and hands with it, so she copied him and did the same.
She let him lead her from the table and through the palatial house. Up a grand, sweeping marble staircase and along a corridor until he opened double wooden doors. She entered the room and bit back a gasp of delight. Wow!
To her right, a huge four-poster bed dominated the back wall, with gauze canopies sweeping down from the wood to the floor. In front of her, a long dresser ran the length of the far wall, and a massive vase sat in the center of it, full of lilies, their sweet scent filling the air. To her left, two sets of floor-to-ceiling French doors were open to showcase two separate balcony spaces, and beyond the balconies a view beautiful enough to make her want to weep.
If she couldn’t be free in the fields with her herd, then this room wouldn’t be a bad place to be.
“I’ll bring your bags up. There’s a bathroom through the door there.” Thalos gestured behind them to another door to one side of the fancy wooden entrance. “And there’s everything you could need in there, including towels and robes. You need anything more, just shout. I’m only across the hallway, and you aren’t alone here with me. My housekeeper, Marina, is in the room next door.”
He gave a strange sort of bow and then left. She decided she didn’t want to see him again when he returned with her things, so she headed into the bathroom, another gorgeous room, and closed the door. Hopefully, he’d put her bags down and leave. She needed some time alone.
By the time she’d soaked for nearly two hours in the bath, which hadn’t been easy what with figuring out the fancy taps and how to get things to work, her skin was pink and wrinkled, and her face a blotchy mess. Back home, they had two simple shower blocks attached to the school building. But they mostly bathed in the lakes and under the waterfall on their land. Still, the warmth had been nice. Had kept the cold in her heart at bay for a while.
She crept out of the bathroom, but the bedroom was empty. Her bags sat on the bed, and one dim lamp lit the far corner of the room. Still, the twilight crept in, filling the room with shadows.
She shivered and went to close the French doors. Then she turned off the lamp and climbed into the big bed. She pulled the cotton sheets up around her chin and looked out of the window ahead. The moon rose over the sea, casting the room in a silvery light. It was so stunning, but all she could do was think about her lost home. The land she knew every inch of. And the parents she’d never see again.
Feeling small and alone amidst all the comfort, she curled up into a ball and cried her heart out.