Read Online Goddess of Yesterday by Caroline B. Cooney - Free Book Online

treasure,” said Axon thoughtfully. He seemed puzzled. “I was a great friend of your father, little princess,” he said slowly. “Of course he loved you so.”
    I could think of nothing safe to say to Axon, but a silent girl is a good girl. I kept my eyes down. His toes were so long they lapped over the edges of his sandals like misplaced fingers. His hairy ankles bulged with blue veins. The torchlight made a cruel shadow of his potbelly. “You grace your father's name,” said Axon. “Yet I know your father Nicander feared for your health.”
    Children recovered from sickness. I, Callisto, could recover from being crippled. “My parents offered many prayers during my long illness,” I said, “sacrificing often. The goddess healed me. Where I was weak, now I am strong.”
    “How wonderful,” said Axon, but he was still puzzled. He took a lock of my hair in his fingers.
    It was good he had not touched my hand, for my flesh had gone as cold as winter. I raised my face and smiled into the man's eyes. “My mother the queen often said that my hair is like rose petals,” I told Axon. “She said red hair is an uncommon gift from the gods, and she often gave thanks.”
    “And so do we all,” said Axon, smiling and relaxed. “Who could not rejoice in such beauty?”
    Twelve is a gawky skinny age. Only my hair was beautiful. I wondered what color Hermione's hair was, daughter of golden Helen and flaming Menelaus.
    The two slave women came with me to my room andwhen it was time to wash, I gestured that they might also bathe, and we had a happy time of it, for cleanliness is joy to a woman. Afterward, we used fragrant oil on our skin. The women knelt to me, holding up their hands and beseeching in their own language. They hoped not to be sold in the market. I held them by the back of the neck, they in submission and I in ownership.
    In the morning, I thought, I will beg the king's permission to keep these two.
    Then I remembered that I was a princess. In the morning, I would inform Menelaus of my decision.
    Axon's courtyard was grim and cold in the hour before sunrise. I was wildly excited and also afraid, for I did not know how far on top of the Main Land my goddess could come.
    I wanted to cling to my women's hands, and the real Callisto would have, but I wished to be a different Callisto. A stronger, more regal Callisto. So I did not hold a slave's hand. I stood as straight as the oar of Nicander's grave.
    Menelaus drew me aside. He looked very stern. The halflight of dawn cast harsh shadows over his face. His eyes, sharp now, not gentle, examined me from hair to sandals. Then he took my right hand and studied my palm, tracing the life line.
    Axon had told the king his suspicions. Menelaus knew now that the princess Callisto ought to be crippled and dark-haired. He who had so kindly bought me a magic jar would despise me. I was a cheat and a liar, to be sold on the table like the twins who had trembled before their buyers.
    “Little princess,” said Menelaus, “Axon has offered to marry you. It is a good offer. He will fortify your father'sisland and resettle it. He will care for your inheritance and make it grow. Your sons will enter the world with a fine lineage.”
    Even though I had spoken the word “dowry” to coax Menelaus to guard the treasure, and even though last night Axon had used that same word, twelve-year-olds do not think of marriage.
    No doubt possession of an island helped my looks. No doubt I would appear beautiful to any man in need of treasure. But Axon was old. Older than Menelaus. He was fat and wrinkled and his toes were too long. He did not even have an altar at his front door so that gods could come and go.
    But the danger was more profound. Marriage is a vow. Dared I, in the company of gods, take a vow in the name of Callisto? I, Anaxandra?
    It is an offense to the gods to throw away your lineage, since the gods chose it for you. I had offended and did not shrink from the offense. I had