For the sake of appearances, and because her back injury was starting to wear on her again, Adresteia allowed Apollo – in the guise of a handsome young Trojan man – to carry Helen to the west gate of Troy. To his credit, Paris was indeed outside the walls searching for the woman with a handful of men. The guards lit a lamp above the gate behind a chunk of green glass to signal to Paris that Helen had already been returned, and Apollo carried Helen up to her quarters in the Trojan palace. The night-time curfew had ended as dawn neared, so a large guard force escorted them through the unfriendly streets.
Doubtless, people would be wondering how Helen survived the fall from the walls. In a later era, they might have concluded that some diabolical pact had been made, and that Helen was maleficia. However, in that time and place, they likely assumed that the Greek woman was simply favored by her gods on Olympus – although, truth be told, there was little difference between the gods of twelfth century BCE Greece and the demons of twelfth century AD Europe; the distinction between a maleficia and a demigoddess would certainly be academic.
Adresteia tucked Helen into bed and sat by her side while Apollo began using a fine steel blade to pry the bits of ferrous rock out of her back.
“You pulled this stuff in deep when you shape-shifted,” Apollo said, “You’re a tough bird, that’s for sure, but you’re lucky this wasn’t magnetite.”
Adresteia winced as he pried out another sliver of rock, “I assume you’re in on Athena’s plan? You seemed pretty chummy when your sister tried to kill me.”
“I’m in on part of it,” Apollo said, “You know Athena, she compartmentalizes everything for…”
“'Operational security', I know. The raid on your temple?”
“Dionysus’s work, but I do suspect that his intervention was not entirely random. Athena told me to take the Trojan’s side when the opportunity to do so seemed clear. I’ve always been rather fond of Troa, so I hoped she was just saying the Greeks would inevitably do something to invite my involvement.”
“But you didn’t imagine they’d desecrate your temple?”
“No, and it was such a bold move it invites questions. It almost seemed too dramatic a note for me to enter the war on.”
Adresteia looked at Helen, sleeping feverishly in her bed, and imagined what would be in store for her once Paris returned with the necklace. “How is it Athena’s plans always seem to involve asking her friends to do things that are…”
“Counter to character?” Apollo pulled out another sliver.
“I was going to say, immoral, but yes.”
“I think Athena’s plans usually require people to behave in counter-intuitive and yet unsurprising ways. The outcomes of her machinations must take people by surprise, but still be believable to anyone who might otherwise suspect a guiding hand. At the nexus of those two things is simply bad behavior. No one’s ever surprised when someone does the wrong thing.”
A young woman’s voice came from the hallway, “Paul?”
“In here,” Apollo said as he continued working.
A Trojan girl in her mid-teens came in, “I expected you to visit the palace tonight. You’re the one that brought Helen back, I assume?”
“That was more Adresteia than me, actually,” Apollo said, “Adresteia, this is Kassandra, one of Priam and Hecuba’s daughters. Kassandra, this is Adresteia, the goddess Nemesis.”
Adresteia was thrown by the informality of the introduction, but Kassandra seemed unphased.
“Oh good, it’s you. I thought you looked familiar when I saw you in the serving hall yesterday morning.”
“How would you already know me?”
“Already knowing things is what I excel at.”
“Kassandra can see the future,” Apollo said, “to a limited extent.”
“I can see many futures,” Kassandra said, “Though it seems I seldom have the power to determine which one comes to fruition.”
“Which is true for all of us, to a limited extent. We look at events around us and make predictions about what will happen next," Apollo explained, "But Kassandra’s predictions have a degree of depth and… inspiration, that is beyond human.”
“But you’re not one of us,” Adresteia asked.
“No,” Kassandra said, “I have no divine parentage that I have been able to determine, and Troy keeps very good records on such matters.”
“I think there’s more to humanity than we realize,” Apollo said simply, “There are places in the world untouched by our influence, that still produce individuals with remarkable mental abilities.”
“But if you can see the future…”
“How did this war even begin?” Kassandra asked, “I’m a girl. No one believes me when it comes to matters of state or war.”
“Seriously?”
“You’re surprised?” Kassandra asked.
“Kassandra found it vexing enough that she prayed to me for help years ago,” Apollo said, “So, I spread it around that I’d given her this great gift of foresight, but cursed her so that no one would ever believe her. I figured if a man, a god no less, took credit for her visions and provided a justification for why Priam had ignored her so far, the Trojans would wise up and start listening to her.”
“But they didn’t,” Adresteia concluded.
“Andromache did," Kassandra said, "And thanks to her Hector sometimes does, but he’s found that he must present my counsel as his own – if he tells our father I predicted something, he just shakes his head and asks one of his other advisers what they think.”
“That must be maddening,” Adresteia sympathized.
“It’s frustrating enough, certainly, but I’ve learned to manage my expectations and focus on what I can do. Save who I can and be prepared to mourn for the rest.”
“Then at least some Trojans will survive this war?” Adresteia asked.
“Probably not as Trojans,” Kassandra said, “When Achilles killed my brother Troilus, the number of possible outcomes in which the city of Troy survives reduced dramatically.”
“Why? What would Troilus have done that would have saved Troy?”
“That depends on which branch of the future we’re talking about,” Kassandra said, “but in almost any path, his contribution to Troy’s salvation would not have been obvious in retrospect.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Adresteia grunted as Apollo pulled out the last piece of rock.
“It’s quantum physics stuff,” Apollo said, “Athena and Hephaestus are the only people in the world I can have a theoretical conversation with about it, so don't feel bad if it doesn't click for you right away.”
“I see,” Adresteia nodded, “I take it I have some part to play in your future, Kassandra?”
“In a few of my possible futures, yes. There will come a moment, years hence, where a life I value a great deal will depend on a decision that you make.”
“What decision is that? Which choice do I need to make?”
“I’m not yet certain where your loyalties will lie at that moment,” Kassandra said, “Depending on whose welfare you choose to favor, knowing the outcome of your choice may well end up dooming an innocent person.”
“I don’t kill innocent people,” Adresteia said, “Not anymore.”
“Perhaps,” Kassandra shrugged, “But you readily turn a blind eye to murder and suffering when it occurs at the discretion of someone you care about.”
“You heard our discussion about Athena?” Adresteia asked.
“No, but I’ve seen her plans played out in the streets of Troy, and how you react to them.”
“Well, that sounds ominous,” Apollo said, “What happens to me?”
“I don’t know,” Kassandra said.
“Well, that sounds even worse.”
Apollo and Kassandra left to discuss their futures, and Adresteia remained by Helen’s side in the guise of a servant. Paris returned by late morning, a beautiful redhead at his side. He ignored Adresteia altogether as he sat down on the edge of the bed and put the necklace back on Helen. Within moments her skin flushed with color once again, and she began to breathe more slowly. Her eyes fluttered open, and her face showed relief when she saw Paris.
“Thank the gods,” she whispered, “I thought I might never see you again.”
“I love you,” Paris said.
Adresteia saw Helen’s eye twitch, but the words that came out of her mouth were simply, “I love you too.”
It made Adresteia want to be sick, so when Paris’s companion suggested they leave, she didn’t drag her feet. The two women walked out of the room and down the hallway.
“Nemesis,” the woman said.
“Aphrodite.”
“I had heard you were back in the game. It took you long enough. Zeus must have really done a number on you.”
“You should know,” Adresteia said, “You led him to me, poisoned me.”
“Ha!” Aphrodite laughed, “Poisoned you, yes. Led him to you, no. You have Athena to thank for that.”
“You’re lying.”
Aphrodite shrugged, “I do do that, don’t I? I could leadingly ask you if it was so hard to believe, ask you if she’s ever done anything to hurt people she says she cares about to advance her plans? And for a moment you’d think I was telling the truth, but then you’d decide that telling the truth is how I craft my best lies, and resolve not to listen to a word I say.”
“I take it you’ve had this conversation before,” Adresteia snipped.
“Of course I have,” Aphrodite said.
“How did you become this person?”
Aphrodite paused, “Why on earth would it matter to you?”
“The scales of justice are not balanced solely by the sins of the wicked.”
“I see. You think at some point that you, the ostracized, former goddess of divine retribution, will be in a position to judge me, daughter of Kronos, princess of Knossos, and ruler of all men’s hearts,” Aphrodite laughed, “And you want me to provide some defense for my actions? My defense is that I am what I am. Human notions of right and wrong are beneath my concern, as is whatever moral framework you’ve appropriated from their philosophies to fill that empty, artificial head of yours.”
“Artificial?” Adresteia said, “You think I haven’t figured out what I really am? Who I am?”
Aphrodite was now visibly flustered, “I don’t know what lies Athena has filled your head with. Hera created you to be Zeus’s servant. You may share some of our blood but…”
“Some? I share half,” Adresteia said, “And you know it, don’t you? I am the child of Kronos and Nyx. I’m more than capable of handling any one of my half siblings.”
“Even Zeus?” Aphrodite smiled.
“Tell him where I am,” Adresteia said, “And let’s find out.”
The two women stared at each other for a long moment.
“Your attempt at reverse psychology is clumsy, but not ineffective,” Aphrodite said, “We’ll save our family reunion for another day.”
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