The Shadow of Perseus : A Novel


 
 
 
 Also by Claire Heywood
 
 Daughters of Sparta
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
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 Copyright © 2023 by Claire Heywood
 Published by arrangement with Hodder & Stoughton Limited.
 Published simultaneously in the United Kingdom by Hodder & Stoughton Limited in 2023.
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 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
 Names: Heywood, Claire, author.
 Title: The shadow of Perseus: a novel / Claire Heywood.
 Description: New York: Dutton, Penguin Random House LLC, 2023.
 Identifiers: LCCN 2022026327 (print) | LCCN 2022026328 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593471555 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780593471562 (ebook)
 Subjects: LCGFT: Novels.
 Classification: LCC PR6108.E99 S53 2023 (print) | LCC PR6108.E99 (ebook) | DDC 823/.92—dc23/eng/20220606
 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022026327
 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022026328
 Cover design and illustration by Holly Ovenden
 This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
 pid_prh_6.0_142492537_c0_r0
 
 
 
 For Andrew, a wonderful man
 
 
 
 
 Perseus, renowned among all men
 Homer, Iliad 14:320
 son of Danae, who stripped away the head of fair-cheeked Medusa
 Pindar, Pythian 12.16–17
 son of Zeus, the mightiest Greek of his day . . .
 gained glory which was held in everlasting remembrance from campaigns waged in foreign lands
 Diodorus Siculus, Library of History 3:52, 4:40
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 PART I
 DANAE
 
 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER 1
 Danae had a spring in her step as she made the steep ascent to the temple. She smiled as the wind pulled at her skirts, leading her on up the well-worn path that snaked its way along the rocky hillside. She could hear her handmaid Korinna panting behind her, and felt the sweat beginning to gather on her brow, but she pushed on. They were almost at the top.
 “Not far now,” Danae declared, turning to her handmaid, but her grin dropped a little as she saw Korinna struggling with the heavy wine jar. “Let me take that,” she offered, feeling suddenly guilty about the unrelenting pace she had set.
 “Don’t worry, mistress. We’re almost there now, as you say.”
 Nevertheless Danae dropped back and they carried the jar between them the rest of the way, each taking one of the clay handles. It might have been difficult, negotiating that weight between two sets of slender arms, but Korinna had been with her long enough that they knew how to move together. Just as when her handmaid dressed her in the morning, or fixed her hair in elaborate coils, or when the two of them set the loom with its colorful woolen threads, their bodies flowed around one another, each hand knowing where it was needed.
 As the slope finally leveled out and the temple came into view, the two girls stopped to catch their breath. Though she had seen them many times before, those stone walls never failed to impress Danae. Each boulder was perfectly set, curving between its neighbors to create a great circle rising out from the plateau. It was no larger than her own home—smaller, probably—and yet there was an immovable solidity to those rocks that made the building loom beyond its stature. This was a place for gods, not men.
 That feeling was undercut somewhat by the very mortal-looking attendant who appeared through the doorway. She and Korinna set the wine jar down on the gravel as the man stepped toward them, the morning light illuminating his pockmarked cheeks and balding head.
 “Ah, Lady Danae,” he called, clasping his hands together as he strode toward them. “You are welcome once again to the temple of the divine twins, Paion Apollo and Lady Artemis.” He glanced down at the jar. “Another offering for the Lord Apollo?”
 “Yes,” she gasped, still breathless from the climb. “My father asks that Lord Apollo return a favorable answer in the question of his marriage. He asks that the shining god should reveal which bride shall provide him with a son, so that he may bring further glory to the illustrious city of Argos and pleasing gifts to the god who has been his patron in this matter.” She reeled off the words she had spoken each morning for the last two weeks, then took a lungful of air.
 “Very well,” said the attendant with a gracious nod. “We shall see that the libation is poured. May the shining god smile upon the king’s request.” And with that he stooped to lift the cumbersome wine jar and carried it as ceremoniously as he could back through the doorway of the temple. Danae’s gaze followed him under the stone lintel, trying to see into the center of that mysterious building. She saw the flicker of fire, shadowy figures crossing its light, and then the door was closed.
 She smiled. Let the priests keep their secrets. She had not hurried all the way up Larissa Hill to peer at altars and trade formalities with dusty old attendants. She hitched her skirts and strode straight past the temple, leaving Korinna behind as her eager feet almost sprang into a run, charging across the plateau, stones crunching under her sandals until . . . There it was.
 Danae stopped herself, raised an arm against the sharp morning sun, and looked out on the object of her daily pilgrimage. There in the distance