Page 4 of A Veil of Gods and Kings

And the haunting future stretching ahead.

My fate trapped me.

But there, for just a moment, I sat as free as the birds swimming through puddles of milky clouds.

A bleat drew me out of my meditation.

A lamb with creamy wool butted its rough nose against the back of my shoulder.

I scratched behind its ear, the gritty texture of its fleece scraping my fingers. “Well, hello, you.”

Maaa. The lamb demanded again.

“What are you doing out here, little one?”

It cocked its head to the side like it tried to make sense of me.

I chuckled. “I imagine your shepherd is worried sick about you. Come along.”

I stood and tucked the lyre away again and patted the lamb on its rump to usher it along the path. “Come on, now. Let’s find your flock.”

I prodded the creature forward on the trail. It jumped and tumbled across the pebble-swept path, and I chuckled.

“Me-yo,” a voice rang out like a song, echoing against the hills.

“Ah, ha,” I said. “Now, there’s your mistress.”

“Me-yo,” the voice came again.

“And she sounds worried. Come on, you.”

I pushed the lamb through a copse of trees, and it stumbled out into a valley as I remained tucked behind the scrambling greens of the leafy limbs. A shepherdess with dark hair bound back with a headband thrust her hands on her hips. “There you are, you naughty thing.”

Maaa, the lamb responded as it jumped in with its companions.

The girl clicked her tongue. “I swear, you’re more trouble than a pack of stray cats.” But she pursed her lips in a smile, her eyes sparkling. She dropped back into the long grasses and picked up a flower wreath, weaving foliage and lilac blooms into it.

For a few moments, I remained there. Wisps of the girl's hair trailed out on a breeze, her skin shone like olive pottery in the sunlight. She hummed a song, and it drifted to me.

And that scene was everything.

Everything beautiful in life.

And everything I would never have.

I turned and walked back out onto the trail.

2

Apollo

The stars speckled across the navy expanse of the sky like a field full of crystal flowers as I ambled up the hill to the house and entered through the kitchen door.

Temi shot her dark eyes towards me and then back down to the deer that lay on the counter. She stabbed the knife into the animal and slit down its stomach, the still-warm musky scent of blood bringing bile to the back of my throat. She clenched her jaw. “I’ll be home by dusk, he says.”

“Temi.”

“Do. Not.” She jabbed the blade down again with a thunk. “Don’t even give me your lame excuses.”