The Poison In The Blood by Tom Holland Page A

whispered in her ear. Yonani turned. She melted into the forest. As she vanished, as fast as the wind, she glanced back over her shoulder. Paris was still standing there.
    The next day, Yonani returned to the spring. Paris came to find her. He was carrying a lamb.
    “You are the goddess of the mountain,” he said. It was not a question, but a statement of fact.
    Yonani nodded.
    “They say you can heal anything you care to. They say you only have to see a sickness and at once you know the cure.” Paris paused. “Is this the truth?”
    Yonani nodded again. She still said nothing.
    Paris held the lamb up to her. The creature’s head was lolling. All its body was limp. “Please,” he begged.
    Yonani took the lamb. She laid her hand upon its fleece. And at once she knew what was wrong. “A snake,” she said. “It was by the river. The lamb went to drink and was bitten by a snake.”
    “Can you heal him?” asked Paris.
    Yonani laid her hand upon the lamb’s head a second time. She closed her eyes. She listened to the clouds, to the breeze, to the sap rising in the trees. She felt a surge of power. It was like gold in her blood. She felt the lamb raise its head. She opened her eyes. The lamb began to struggle in her arms. She placed it down on the grass. “It is cured,” she declared.
    Paris smiled. Thank you.” He did not bow, as a mortal should to a goddess.
    “Beware,” she heard from the leaves. This time, Yonani ignored the warning. She waited for Paris to take her in his arms. When he did, she let out a puzzled sigh. Then she met his lips. And with the kiss, all her puzzlement vanished away.
     
     
TWO
     
    Yonani and Paris lived together. They were in love. Yonani showed Paris all the secrets of the mountain. She showed him how to talk to the animals. She showed him how to talk to the trees. She would still sometimes hear the leaves rustle. “Beware,” they whispered. “Beware.” Yonani ignored what they said. Her joy was too strong. She wanted her happiness with Paris to last for ever.
    One day he lost a sheep and went to look for it. Yonani sat by the spring where she had first met him. Suddenly she saw a flash of gold reflected in the water. She looked up. The sky filled with light, then it was gone. The light had plunged into the forest. Yonani rose to her feet. She was afraid. She knew what the light had been: a god. But why had another god come to her forest? And where was Paris? Yonani’s heart pounded. She began to run. As she ran, all the leaves began to whisper again: “Beware.”
    Ahead of her there was a parting in the trees. Yonani stopped in the shade of the trees. The clearing shimmered with a strange glow. Paris was standing in the middle of it, but he was not alone. A god was standing there, too. He was taller than Paris. On his head he wore a helmet with beating wings. His sandals had wings as well. In his hand he held a long pole. Two snakes were entwined around it. Yonani knew him at once. His names was Hermes. He was the messenger of Zeus.
    From where she was hiding, Yonani could hear every word that was spoken.
    “I have come from Olympus,” said Hermes. “My father, Zeus, has sent me to find you. Here” - he held out something - “take this.”
    Yonani looked at what Hermes was holding. It was an apple. The apple was made of gold.
    “This was given yesterday as a gift to Zeus,” said Hermes.
    Yonani watched as Paris took it. There were words written on the apple. Paris read them aloud. “"For the fairest."“ He frowned. “"For the fairest"? Who does that mean?”
    Hermes smiled. “That is what Zeus has ordered you to decide.”
    “Why me?”
    Hermes smiled again. “Because who in the universe is fairer than the wife and the two daughters of Zeus? But which of those three is the most fair? Zeus does not wish to have to choose between his wife and his daughters. The apple can be given only to one. The losers would never forgive him.”
    Paris turned pale. “But why