“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.

“I swear by Zeus and Hera and Demeter and Apollo and Athene, by the figs and olives and barley and grapes, by the sea and the sky and the earth beneath my feet, that I will protect and defend the excellence of the Just City from all enemies, internal and external. I will fight bravely, judge fairly, and contribute to the best of my abilities. I will defend her laws and institutions, resist tyranny and foolishness, and the lures of wealth and honor, and strive ever to increase her excellence.”

It had been a bright sunny morning, but it clouded over as I was speaking so that the last words came out under a dark sky. I looked up from the altar as the Archon marked my forehead and saw that I was mistaken, I was simply in the shadow of a very tall man. Then I saw that it was the great ivory and gold statue of Zeus, but it had moved and was standing in front of me instead of at the side of the steps. And then I realized that it was not the statue but Zeus himself standing there, frowning down at me. I remembered too late what Father had said about attracting the attention of the gods. I took my hands off the altar and stepped back, as if that might make him disappear again. Of course, it did nothing.

“Granddaughter,” all-knowing Zeus rumbled, his voice like thunder. He looked around slowly, taking in the temple and the square and the people. Some had fallen to the ground. Most of them looked terrified. Ikaros looked absolutely thrilled and was bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement. Father took a step forward, my brothers close at his back. Zeus nodded at Father, and thunder echoed all around. “Where is Athene?” Zeus asked.

She appeared on the steps in front of us. She had her helmet and her shield and her owl, and she seemed to be perfectly composed. I had never seen her before, but I would have recognized her anywhere. There were statues and paintings and bas-reliefs of her all over the city, many of them done from life. “Joy to you, Father,” she said. “Be welcome to the Just City.”

“And when did you intend to tell me about this folly?” We were speaking Greek, of course. But that last word held double meanings, in other languages. As well as meaning foolishness, and thus the opposite of the wisdom that was Athene’s domain, it had the connotation of an anachronistic ruin built deliberately to enhance a landscape view. I bristled to hear the Republic described this way, not because it wasn’t true but because it hurt.

Athene did not flinch, but stood looking up at her father calmly. “In the fullness of time, when there was something to report,” she said.

“Come, let us discuss this,” Zeus said. He pointed at Father and my brothers. “And you can come too.” He pointed at Ikaros.

“Me?” Ikaros squeaked.

“Yes, you, Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, Count of Concord, Ikaros of the Amazons. You. Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you when you profess to know so much about me? Come.”

Maia had her mouth open, as if she was about to say something. Ikaros grabbed her arm.

Erinna was stepping forward too, and the Archon was reaching for me, and then they were gone and I was standing on a sloping mountain meadow, green with soft spring grass and dotted with strange blue and golden bell-like flowers, nodding in the gentle breeze. It felt like Delos, only much more so.

31

ARETE

Father was there, and my brothers, and Zeus, and Athene, and Ikaros, and Maia, standing in a rough circle. I sat down at once on the soft grass, and so did everyone else, almost simultaneously. There was something strange about how everyone looked, as if perspective didn’t work properly here. Zeus and Athene both were and were not normal human sizes. They were much too big to be sitting in a circle with the rest of us, yet there they were, sitting right there, not taking up any more room, and not far away. Zeus was big enough to fill the mountain and the sky, and at the same time only a little taller than Phaedrus. It made me feel a little dizzy when I focused on him and anything else at the same time.

“Why did you bring Pico?” Athene asked Zeus.

Zeus raised an eyebrow. “He’s the reason you did all this, isn’t he?”

I looked at Ikaros. He looked different, younger. His long hair was chestnut brown and his face was unlined. He looked only a few years older than my brothers. He was still clutching Maia’s arm. Maia also looked younger, very much the way she looked in her statue in Amazonia. She was staring at Athene. Ikaros opened his mouth as if he was about to say “Me?” again, but Porphyry put a hand on his shoulder and he subsided. Athene didn’t turn her head in his direction, but the owl was staring at him, and I felt she didn’t need to look at him to see him. I could also tell by the way he was looking delightedly at everything that he could see properly.

“It’s true I wanted somewhere interesting to take him. But he prayed to me for the Republic. They all did, all the Masters. And I could grant their prayers and help. It seemed like a good time and place for such an experiment.”

“It was meddling for your own vanity,” Zeus said, decisively. “And dragging Phoebus into it, where’s the sense in that?”

“I wanted to become incarnate to learn some things,” Father said. “Athene offered me the Republic as a time and place to do that. It was my free choice.”

“And you’ve learned them, I see, and more besides. And you have a daughter. How very unlike you.” Zeus looked at me, and I met his gaze as best I could. He looked a little puzzled. I felt as if I should be terrified, but I wasn’t afraid at all. It wasn’t like the time on Delos where everything I did was under the control of Fate and I was going through a prescribed and required set of motions. I was entirely free to act and choose for myself. But I didn’t feel fear or anger, or anything at all really. Indeed, I felt preternaturally calm.