Eros (22 page)

The skies were clear and sunny the following morning, as if the storm had been a figment of her imagination.
It was still cold, but the air was crisp and clean.
Skye checked out of the small pension where she’d found a cheap room and went in search of both breakfast and information.

After purchasing a deliciously flaky pastry from a small bakery, she eyed the man behind the counter thoughtfully.
He had a friendly face, she decided, so she swallowed hard and asked him, ‘Um, do you speak English?’

His eyes twinkled at her.
‘Can’t afford not to.
Not these days.
This is a tourist town, after all.’

A mixture of relief and nervousness squirmed through her.
Skye could feel her cheeks warming at the ridiculousness of her next question, but she quashed her embarrassment and took a deep breath. ‘I don’t suppose you could tell me where Olympus is?’

He let out a deep belly laugh, its rumble filling the small warm shop.
‘Step outside and look up!
You can’t miss it.’

Skye scratched her head awkwardly.
‘Not the mountain.
The, um, palace.
With the gods in.’

He suddenly stopped laughing, his face closing up.
He half turned away, as if fascinated by rearranging some loaves of bread. ‘You’ve been reading too many fairy stories,’ he grunted.

Skye stared desperately at his back.
He obviously knew something but he was unwilling to talk about it. ‘But…’ she began.

He looked over his shoulder.
‘Sorry.
Can’t help you.’

Damn it.
It was clear he wasn’t going to say anything further.
Skye sighed and left.
She’d just have to find someone else to help her.
This would be a whole lot easier if Coop hadn’t taken her to Olympus using his godly teleportation skills.
At least then she’d have a chance of retracing their steps to find it on her own.

The thing was, there were people who knew of the existence of Olympus as the lap of the gods – and who knew how to get there.
Coop had told her that worshippers and supplicants who still followed the old ways sometimes gathered at the mountain.
Emma had found it remarkably easy to believe in the sudden revelation of the gods’ existence; even though most of the world lived in total ignorance of the fact that the ancient Greek myths weren’t actually just myths, it wasn’t a complete secret either.
All Skye had to do was find someone to point her in the right direction.

Casting around, she spotted an elderly woman on the other side of the street,
carrying a bag of heavy shopping.

Skye jogged over. ‘Can I help you with that?’

The woman turned and smiled at her, answering with a stream of incomprehensible Greek.
Clearly, even if she knew about Olympus and where it was, Skye wouldn’t be able to understand her.
It served her right for not spending more time learning the language.
Once she sorted out this mess with Coop, she promised herself she’d make more of an effort.
If
she sorted out the mess with Coop, she amended.

Gesturing towards the woman’s bag, she mimed the action of helping to carry it.
The woman grinned more broadly and held the bag out towards her.
Skye took it, hoping they didn’t have far to walk. Resting one hand on Skye’s free arm, the old woman began speaking again in Greek.
Skye smiled in return and shrugged to indicate she didn’t understand.
The woman laughed and continued to chatter.
At least with the sun finally shining again, it was a pleasant stroll.

They made their way down the street, eventually turning into a cobbled road.
The woman pointed ahead of her, seeming to indicate her house was just up ahead.
Skye returned her shopping bag and cocked her head, not holding out much hope but figuring it was worth a try anyway.

‘Olympus?’ she asked, her eyes scanning the woman’s face.

The woman threw back her head and laughed, patting Skye on the arm and turning away.
Skye’s mouth twisted ruefully.
It had been a long shot at best.

The next person she tried was a younger man who she spotted close to the beach.
Not only was there a better chance that someone younger would speak English, but perhaps someone closer to her own age would be more sympathetic to her cause.
This particular man didn’t look like a tourist although neither did he look like he was in a rush to get anywhere or do anything.
Straightening her shoulders, Skye walked up to him and smiled.

‘Excuse me,’ she said, keeping her fingers tightly crossed, ‘but I’m trying to find Olympus.’

He looked at her, dark eyes glittering and grabbed her arm, twisting it almost painfully.
His face loomed down towards hers. ‘They won’t help you, you know.
They won’t help anyone,’ he hissed, a cloud of stale breath hitting Skye as he spoke.

Alarmed, she tried to wrench her arm away, but he tightened his grip.
‘Let me go,’ she said, sounding considerably calmer than she felt.

‘They don’t care about you,’ he half sang.

‘Sir, please let go of my arm.’

‘They don’t care about me,’ he trilled, ‘or the fish in the sea.’
A half mad expression crossed his eyes.
‘But why bother with the sea when they already have enough water for tea!’
He frowned and shook his head.
‘No, no, no.
Enough water for me. No.
Enough water for glee.
Gleeee!’

He dropped her arm abruptly and wandered a few steps away from her, still muttering to himself.
Skye backed off until she was sure he’d forgotten about her, then walked quickly in the opposite direction, rubbing her arm and grimacing.
Perhaps walking round the quiet streets of Litochoro and asking random strangers for help wasn’t the brightest idea she’d ever had.

She sat down on a wall beside the seafront, her shoulders slumping, and gazed up at the mountains encircling the houses.
Mount Olympus stood proudly over them all, snow-capped and majestic.
Skye could see why the gods chose this area to live in: it was stunning.
Between the sapphire sea, the jade green of the surrounding forests and the backdrop of the mountains, the place was picture perfect.

Skye cast her eyes over the entire vista, wishing she’d paid more attention to what was around the palace of Olympus rather than the palace itself.
She had a vague memory of some trees and that was about it.
But between the town and the mountain were acres of trees.
It could be almost anywhere.
Chewing her bottom lip, she tried to think.
There had to be a way to find it.
Unwilling to ask anyone else for help after her last encounter, she was running out of options.
Skye scowled.
There had to be a map or a sign or something.
Anything.

She froze.
Maybe there
was
something.
Pulling out her phone, she turned it on and scanned through its contents until she found what she was looking for.
She might be able to go one better than a map.
The internet connection was weak but eventually the familiar screen of Google Earth popped up.
She’d downloaded it months ago, simply out of curiosity.
Skye had been particularly amused to see her father had been captured in his scruffiest clothes in front of their house.
He’d been crouching down as if inspecting the wheels of his car and was revealing more skin than her mother would have liked.
However, silly voyeurism aside, the app did have its uses.

Skye quickly typed in Litochoro, bringing up the town and locating the spot she was in.
The photos must have been taken in the height of summer because the pretty seafront looked considerably busier than it was now.
Zooming out and scanning the area, Skye searched for any clues as to the whereabouts of the gods’ palace.
There were no buildings that looked remotely like the marble monolith Coop had taken her to, but she did find a small road leading away from the town and winding through the surrounding forest.
Previous visitors had taken photos of different spots but the majority of them were of trees with varying degrees of sunlight filtering through their leaves or shots of the mountain itself.

Frustrated, she ran a hand through her hair.
Maybe she could find the road that led through the trees and follow it in the hope of seeing something.
It seemed like a stab in the dark. She frowned.
According to the satellite imagery, there was a waterfall called Agios Dionisis, which looked pretty; she could aim for it.
The guy who’d grabbed her arm had been babbling about water.
What was it he’d said?
They have enough water for tea?
Whatever it was, it hadn’t made much sense.
Then her eyes widened.
Coop had quoted Yeats’ description of a waterfall before they’d left for Olympus.

‘“The water and the wild”,’ she whispered softly to herself, springing up.

The waterfall had to be involved; it was too much of a coincidence otherwise.
Spurred on, she looked at the map and estimated it would take her little more than a couple of hours to reach it.
If it didn’t work out, she’d have more than enough time to get back to the town before dark and get a room again for another night.
But it would work out.
It had to.

***

Skye arrived at the waterfall faster than she had thought she would.
The winter chill made her move quickly and it was an easy trek to the well-signposted beauty spot.
The roar of water, swollen as it was from the previous night’s storm, reached her ears long before she caught sight of the water itself, gushing down into a sharp ravine etched on either side with slate-grey rock.

She peered over the edge.
The place seemed deserted.
It had been too much to hope that she’d reach the water’s edge and, all of a sudden, the glory of Olympus would reveal itself to her.
That didn’t prevent her feeling disappointed, though.
Sighing audibly, she picked her way down to the pool at the bottom.
After coming all this way, it would be churlish to not see it properly.

Once she reached it, she gasped in awe.
The pool was a stunning limpid green colour, and the waterfall was truly astounding.
Kneeling down, she trailed her fingers in the water and drank in the peace.
Mist was sweeping in down from the high sides of the tree-lined gorge.
It was truly magical.

Skye considered her options.
She could travel out from the waterfall in concentric circles.
Then at least she’d know for certain that the palace was nowhere in the vicinity.
She wasn’t leaving until she’d found the damned place and spoken to Coop; she wasn’t about to give up on what felt like her one true shot at happiness without a fight.

She glanced up at the sky.
It wouldn’t be long before it started to get dark; considering how close she’d come to dying of hypothermia the night before … it would probably be wise to head back to Litochoro and try again tomorrow.

With that thought in mind, she stood up – and almost jumped a foot in the air when she registered the two figures staring silently at her.
How had they clambered down to the pool without making a sound?
Skye blinked rapidly several times then took a step towards them.

‘Hello.’

Standing by the water’s edge hand in hand, they stared at her.
Neither seemed to be wearing much clothing. The woman was draped in green, but her arms and most of her legs were bare. The man, who was what could only be described as classically beautiful, with alabaster skin, high sculpted cheekbones and dark hair, was wearing an artfully draped scarlet sheet.
For a moment, Skye wondered if she’d interrupted a lovers’ interlude; maybe they’d been swimming in the pool when she came along.
That was ridiculous though.
The temperature had to be close to freezing.

Without a word, the man let go of his girlfriend’s hand and gracefully moved towards the water.
The girl panicked, attempting to recapture his palm, but he brushed her off.
She looked so hurt at his dismissive action that Skye felt sorry for her.
Her boyfriend was clearly an arse.

Trying again, Skye offered the girl a small smile.
‘I’m Skye.
Are you from around here?’

The girl blinked slowly.
‘Around here?’

Skye nodded.
‘Yes.
I’m actually not here for the waterfall.
I was looking for Olympus.’
She laughed slightly nervously.
‘Not the mountain.
The, er, the palace.’