It is surprising how clever one becomes under pressure. I didn’t want to remember any of this. I couldn’t have remembered it if I had been facing an exam; but now the words stood out in my mind as if I’d just finished reading them. The Orphic rite, the Mysteries of Eleusis, the Sacred Marriage… I wondered if Kore had included that little item in her agenda. Was that what the women were seeking, a mate for the goddess instead of a victim? They couldn’t kill him if they wanted him to be of any use in the former role.
A big choking lump rose to my throat. It was no use trying to keep cool and telling myself horrible black jokes. This was no joke. The worst of it was not knowing what was in store for me-and for others. I told myself that surely Kore wouldn’t carry the dark rites to their bloody conclusion; a goat or a chicken killed, a wild dance and a lot of wine… But I remembered how easily I had beencaught, and I thought of Jim, almost as vulnerable, with his weakened eyesight and bruised body.
A vast network of lightning scored the sky. I cowered against the tree, closing my eyes. When I opened them again, the western sky was a brighter crimson. I knew what the signs meant. Violent electrical storms had accompanied earlier eruptions, and the red glow was the reflection of red-hot lava against the clouds of smoke and ash. In spite of my terror, something in me responded unwillingly to the majestic violence. Kore couldn’t have chosen a more fitting setting for her play. Nor could I entirely blame the village women for seizing any means possible of propitiating outraged nature. This was enough to turn anyone’s mind.
I pulled my feet up and tried to wriggle around so that I could reach the ropes. I had to do something or I would go crazy thinking. I was still trying to stretch my fingers two inches beyond their proper length when another web of lightning blazed out, followed by a crash that made my ears ache. Thunder, or maybe another eruption; I couldn’t tell. The whole world was going insane.
I didn’t hear them coming. There was no music, no wild chanting. No organization, either; they sauntered down the slope in small groups, two or three of them together. One group was larger. In the middle, prodded along by the sheer number of them, was Jim.
They had wound ropes around him, but his legs were free. The women pushed him across the floor and sat him down-they weren’t rough, I’ll say that for them-and then tied his feet. We sat there looking at each other for a while.
“Are you all right?” Jim asked. “They didn’t hurt you?”
“Not yet,” I said. “How did they catch you?”
“Ambushed me, just outside the villa. As soon as we realized you were missing, we started to look-”
“It was stupid of you to separate,” I snapped. “You and Keller together could have fought them off.”
Jim accepted the rebuke without comment; he knew it was prompted by frayed nerves.
“Keller didn’t go. Your father came back while we were searching the house. He went toward the village to look for you.”
“He wouldn’t be much help anyway,” I said bitterly.
Some of the women were piling up stones on the paving to the right of the fire. The structure was long and low-as long as an outstretched human body.
Jim turned on his side, raising himself on one elbow. He started to speak. I cut him short.
“Look!”
The high priestess had arrived.
The flames were burning high and bright; I could see her clearly. She didn’t look very happy. The golden diadem that crowned her black hair was slightly askew, her clothes were rumpled, and I had a feeling that she wouldn’t be there except for the escort that hemmed her in. I recognized one of the brawnier women: Helena, the wife of Angelos, the hotelkeeper.
When Kore caught sight of us, she pushed her guard of honor aside and ran toward us. They made no move to stop her. She dropped down on the ground next to me, her ample bosom heaving with haste and agitation.
“They said they would bring you, but I did not think you would be so stupid to be caught,” she panted.
“Let’s not start out criticizing our behavior,” Jim growled. “This whole thing is your fault. I’m glad you seem to be coming to your senses, but it’s a little late.”
“They are mad,” Kore moaned, clutching at her hair and knocking the diadem even farther askew. “It was a game, a little game… Oh, yes, I pretended to believe, at times I pretended so well I almost did believe. But something has gone wrong, they are not in my control now. Never would I permit such happenings-”
“No sacrifices?” Jim asked.
Kore shrugged.
“A chicken, a goat…” She must have heardmy gasp of released breath; she glanced at me, and grimaced in sympathy. “Ah, the poor children-you did not think…? No, no, there is no danger to you. This is bad, wrong, but it is not what you fear. They wish only to see the Sacred Marriage consummated.”
My head turned stiffly, as if on a pivot, toward the low stone structure the women had built. It was long enough for a human body, certainly-and wide enough for two. The women had spread it with an embroidered cloth and were now decorating the structure with branches and wilted wildflowers.
I turned back to stare at Kore. She was still babbling.
“…then we kill the goats, one for each, and it is over. That is all.”
“I’m not going to sit here and watch them slaughter some poor little goats,” I said. I didn’t dare look at Jim.
“You’re crazy,” he said, in a strangled voice. “Crazier than she is, worrying about goats, when-If you think I am going over there in front of forty staring women and-No way!”
“You’d rather die?” I inquired sweetly. “That’s my line. Only I wouldn’t rather die.”
“Trust a woman to turn any crisis into a personal insult,” Jim said. “That’s not the problem, and you damn well know it.”
“We could pretend,” I said. I was feeling a little giddy now that the danger I had feared seemed to be without foundation.
“Maybe you could,” Jim said.
“No,” I said, watching Helena carefully arranging wilted blossoms across the foot of the stone couch. “I guess I couldn’t. Kore, you’ve got to do something. Talk them out of it.”
“There’s a knife in my pocket,” Jim said urgently. “Cut me loose.”
“You make such fuss,” Kore said petulantly. “Such a little thing! You are lovers, young and strong. Why can you not-”
“Kore!” I said emphatically.
She wasn’t as carefree as she pretended; the firelight reflected from the perspiration that covered her face. With a movement that was half shrug, half shiver, she spread out her flowing skirts and under their cover began to fumble in Jim’s pocket.
The process seemed to take forever. Apparently the high priestess was supposed to do some writhing around; except for a few casual glances, the women paid no attention to us. Kore cut the ropes on Jim’s feet and was reaching for the ones that bound his arms when one of the women called out. She was carrying a load of twigs toward the fire; now she stopped, pointing toward the sky. To my incredulous relief I saw a star.
“Look,” I said. “The air is clearing. Maybe…”
“The wind has changed.” Jim struggled to a sitting position. “What a piece of luck! That should blow the clouds away from the island, out to sea.”
“Tell them the gods have changed their minds,” I said to Kore. “Isn’t that a good omen? Tell them!”
“I try.” Kore got to her feet.
“Damn it, finish this job first,” Jim demanded, squirming.
Kore paid no attention. She was still holding his knife when she raised her arms and called out in a high, shrill voice. The women stopped work to listen. Some of them seemed to be impressed by her arguments. They hesitated, glancing uncertainly at one another. But the general opinion among the hard-core members seemed to be that the evidence was inconclusive.
Kore sat down again and went back to work on the ropes. “They say no,” she reported.