on, Archias, we’re leaving.”
I turned round, tugging him along behind me, straight through the wall and out into the fresh air.
“S O THAT ’ S IT ,” he said.
“Yes.”
He sat down on the last step of the bridge and buried his face in his hands. “You failed.”
“Excuse me?”
“You failed.”
I glared at him. “Can I just remind you,” I said, “this was meant to be your quest and your assignment, and I was just along to give you help and moral support? If anyone’s failed, it was you.”
He looked up at me. “Bullshit,” he said. “You’ve been in charge ever since we left the City, telling me what to do.”
“You chose to take my help and advice. Your choice. Free will.”
“ Bullshit . I trusted you. Even when you weren’t there, because you’d gone swanning off and forgotten me, I prayed to you. You were in charge, you decided what we were going to do, you failed.”
I smiled at him. “Who says?”
He looked at me blankly. “What?”
“Who says I failed?”
“Don’t be stupid. We went to get Lysippus. We left without him. Therefore—”
“Whatever became,” I interrupted him, “of the second lamb?”
He opened his mouth, closed it again and looked round. “I guess I must’ve left it there. What possible difference—?”
“Hold still.”
I leant forward. From the top of his boot, I pulled something like a flat, folded piece of parchment. I unfolded it. First I unfolded the small flat square into a full-size flat human silhouette. Then I unfolded the two-dimensional shape into three dimensions. A quick flick of tepid blood from the chalice brought it to life. “Behold,” I said. “Lysippus son of Melias, in the flesh. I do not fail. Got that?”
I let go of Lysippus and he stumbled, then caught his balance and stood up. He saw Archias. “You,” he said.
“Lysippus?”
“ Bastard!” Lysippus roared, and hit Archias in the mouth so hard he fell over. “You killed me!” he roared, drawing his foot back for a kick. “You were my friend, and you damn well killed me!”
I caught hold of his hair and dragged him to his knees. “Yes, well,” I said, “you’re better now, so no harm done. And Archias came all the way here, at great trouble and expense, to bring you back to life. Say thank you.”
I tightened my grip on his hair. “Thanks,” he muttered.
“Sorry, I can’t quite hear you.”
“Thank you,” he shouted. I let him go and he fell forward on his face. “Now then,” I said. “I want you two to shake hands and be friends.”
Archias spat out a tooth, then reached out his hand. Lysippus hesitated for a moment. I let my shadow fall across him. He grabbed Archias’ hand, held it for a fraction of a second, then let go as though it was burning him.
“There,” I said, “that’s better. Everybody’s friends with everybody else.” I let Lysippus back off a pace or two, then I asked him, “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Him stabbing me, of course.”
“Mphm. Would you like to go home now?”
“Yes.” He stopped, then stared at me. “Goddess?”
“That’s right.”
He dropped to his knees and banged his forehead on the ground. “Forgive me. I meant no disrespect.”
“Of course you didn’t, that’s fine. Now, are you friends with Archias again?”
“Yes, goddess. I love him like a brother.”
“Splendid. Now, I’m going to send you home by magic. When you get there, you’ll forget you ever saw me. You’ll forget Archias ever hurt you. You’ll live the rest of your life happily writing music and studying philosophy.”
“Yes, goddess.”
“Off you go, then.” I snapped my fingers and he vanished.
Archias was looking at me. “Is he for real?”
“Excuse me?”
“Was that actually him? Or just one of your sockpuppets?”
I scowled at him for that. “That was the real, one and only Lysippus, son of Melias, of the deme of Mesogaea,” I said. “He was dead but now he’s alive again. I
I turned round, tugging him along behind me, straight through the wall and out into the fresh air.
“S O THAT ’ S IT ,” he said.
“Yes.”
He sat down on the last step of the bridge and buried his face in his hands. “You failed.”
“Excuse me?”
“You failed.”
I glared at him. “Can I just remind you,” I said, “this was meant to be your quest and your assignment, and I was just along to give you help and moral support? If anyone’s failed, it was you.”
He looked up at me. “Bullshit,” he said. “You’ve been in charge ever since we left the City, telling me what to do.”
“You chose to take my help and advice. Your choice. Free will.”
“ Bullshit . I trusted you. Even when you weren’t there, because you’d gone swanning off and forgotten me, I prayed to you. You were in charge, you decided what we were going to do, you failed.”
I smiled at him. “Who says?”
He looked at me blankly. “What?”
“Who says I failed?”
“Don’t be stupid. We went to get Lysippus. We left without him. Therefore—”
“Whatever became,” I interrupted him, “of the second lamb?”
He opened his mouth, closed it again and looked round. “I guess I must’ve left it there. What possible difference—?”
“Hold still.”
I leant forward. From the top of his boot, I pulled something like a flat, folded piece of parchment. I unfolded it. First I unfolded the small flat square into a full-size flat human silhouette. Then I unfolded the two-dimensional shape into three dimensions. A quick flick of tepid blood from the chalice brought it to life. “Behold,” I said. “Lysippus son of Melias, in the flesh. I do not fail. Got that?”
I let go of Lysippus and he stumbled, then caught his balance and stood up. He saw Archias. “You,” he said.
“Lysippus?”
“ Bastard!” Lysippus roared, and hit Archias in the mouth so hard he fell over. “You killed me!” he roared, drawing his foot back for a kick. “You were my friend, and you damn well killed me!”
I caught hold of his hair and dragged him to his knees. “Yes, well,” I said, “you’re better now, so no harm done. And Archias came all the way here, at great trouble and expense, to bring you back to life. Say thank you.”
I tightened my grip on his hair. “Thanks,” he muttered.
“Sorry, I can’t quite hear you.”
“Thank you,” he shouted. I let him go and he fell forward on his face. “Now then,” I said. “I want you two to shake hands and be friends.”
Archias spat out a tooth, then reached out his hand. Lysippus hesitated for a moment. I let my shadow fall across him. He grabbed Archias’ hand, held it for a fraction of a second, then let go as though it was burning him.
“There,” I said, “that’s better. Everybody’s friends with everybody else.” I let Lysippus back off a pace or two, then I asked him, “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Him stabbing me, of course.”
“Mphm. Would you like to go home now?”
“Yes.” He stopped, then stared at me. “Goddess?”
“That’s right.”
He dropped to his knees and banged his forehead on the ground. “Forgive me. I meant no disrespect.”
“Of course you didn’t, that’s fine. Now, are you friends with Archias again?”
“Yes, goddess. I love him like a brother.”
“Splendid. Now, I’m going to send you home by magic. When you get there, you’ll forget you ever saw me. You’ll forget Archias ever hurt you. You’ll live the rest of your life happily writing music and studying philosophy.”
“Yes, goddess.”
“Off you go, then.” I snapped my fingers and he vanished.
Archias was looking at me. “Is he for real?”
“Excuse me?”
“Was that actually him? Or just one of your sockpuppets?”
I scowled at him for that. “That was the real, one and only Lysippus, son of Melias, of the deme of Mesogaea,” I said. “He was dead but now he’s alive again. I
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