Iris

Charles is many, many things. But a liar he isn't. (At least not to Iris, which is her frame of reference at the moment.)

It might be easier than in another form - Charles showed Iris, instead of describing in words. It's silent, and very loud, and Iris stands up with a Not now and walks out of her own room in Milliways to go -- anywhere else.

Iris always liked Odysseus. It was difficult, long ago, to remain silent during Odysseus' trials to return home to his wife, but he always succeeded. Forever succeeded.

His endeavors after returning home have been somewhat less fruitful.

Above all things Odysseus, now that Telemachus is born unto him, wants to avoid going to war. Palamedes defeats his feigning of madness in his usual cutthroat way. Iris detests it; the lord Ares compliments the man's cunning.

Iris takes flight once she is dismissed from service for the time being --

-- and ends up somewhere she wasn't expecting.

Flying is a gift form the gods, but is aided by the anemoi. Iris counts herself lucky to be on good terms with all of them - Zephyr in particular.

"My friend the chrysopteron comes to visit me!" Zephyr cries. Iris smiles despite herself when she takes flight, a rush of vibrant blue underneath her wing. "How fare your travels? Tell me everything!"

Away from the Twelve to not be immediately overheard, Iris returns, "You already know all, friend sweet-wind." And adds nothing more.

"Does the messenger of Hera Panhellenios have nothing to tell such a compatriot?"

"I apologize. I am simply distracted."

It is fairly late. Iris knows this. She can see it in the way that Charles' eyes stay more closed than open as they talk about nothing in particular in his bedroom in Oxford. He is trying to stay up for her and that's not going to work - Go to sleep, Charles. I will be here when you wake.





But goddesses don't sleep, and this one is thinking over the events of the day. She lingers on the researchers from the library, and how much Charles could have looked up - like she did with her attempts at Mendel.

I should ask in the morning, she reminds herself absently. Or if there had been anything of note, would he not have already asked?

When Hera's tasks lead Iris to Corinth, she continues to follow her duty through to completion.

But after is when she conceals her wings, taking to walk as mortals do through the grand city and towards the Akrokorinthos. She takes the time to follow the pilgrim's path towards the entrance. She places the right amount of coins in the right hands.

"I have come to speak to the Theai Arkhaiai, soothsayer," Iris explains to the old woman at the gate to the interior temple, who never manages to meet Iris' gaze. Not a perjurer, Iris thinks admiringly. A true temple.

"Of course, lady Aellôpos."

Inside the sanctuary, Iris turns away from the piles of offerings the others who have come here left for the Moirae - spindles, honey and water.

"You have come here."

"You told me I would go somewhere new. Someplace unheard of to me before. I have, and I would like to go back."


"Of course not. I would never be so foolish as to expect such things."

A hesitation there. There will be no lying here. "I believe Eros has his own influences."
"He is more than this." Almost a snap. Almost too much.

"You will go there again. To the End and the Beginning. How and when will be of your own devising."

Iris breathes again. "Thank you, Klothes. I am grateful for your guidance."


"I understand."