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“And we had sex there...?”
“Andromeda and Perseus did,” he said. “And in that world, you were Andromeda, and I was Perseus.”
“I was her, August,” she breathed. “I really was. Everything I said was in Andromeda’s voice, her words, her thoughts. Everything I did was her. It wasn’t me. But it was me.” She looked up at the ceiling and shook her head, still lost in the wonder of it all. “It was incredible.”
“I enjoyed it, too,” August said. “More than I can say.”
“So this is all...magic?” she asked. “That’s your theory?”
“The gods aren’t magicians,” he corrected. “They’re gods. But even gods have toys. Word of advice: don’t play with a god’s toy without permission.”
“But you played with it.”
“I have permission,” he said. “Do you believe me?”
“No. But I believe you believe it, so I won’t accuse you of lying.”
“How do you explain it, then?”
“Greek fire,” she said. “There are accounts of it being used, historical accounts, but the formula for Greek fire is lost to history. Discoveries and inventions get made and sometimes lost over time, yes?”
“This is true,” August said.
“I would assume,” Lia continued, trying to sound as scientific and rational as she could, “that the ancient followers of Eros discovered a flower or an herb or a combination of them, maybe now extinct, that had hallucinogenic and aphrodisiac powers and there’s residue of it in the cup. Or perhaps it’s a drug that puts you into a highly suggestible state. I know you’re good at telling stories. I was drugged and suggestible and you whispered in my ear what you wanted me to see and feel and think...like you did when you were looking at my tapestry.”
“So, your theory on what happened Saturday night was simply...”
“I was tripping balls,” Lia said.
August politely applauded. “You feel better now that you’ve completely explained away the most incredible experience of your life?”
“Yes,” she said. “Much.”
“You’re wrong, by the way, but if you need to tell yourself that rational nonsense to avoid a break with reality, it’s fine.”
“Thank you. I will.”
“Should I assume that you were terrified by the experience and that’s why you want to get rid of the kylix?”
She held up her hands. “We’re not negotiating yet.”
“We aren’t?”
“First, I need to ask you some questions, and I’d like you to not ask me why I’m asking them. Can you do that?”
“I’ll try,” he said.
“Do you like what you do?” she asked.
“You mean...buy antiques, go to parties, travel, read, keep up with my archery and see what’s new on Netflix?”
“Your ‘work,’” she said. “Do you like it?”
“Selling my body?”
“Yes, that was the work to which I was referring.” The man did violence to her syntax.
“Enough that it rarely feels like work,” he said. “I wish I hadn’t agreed to not ask why you want to know, because I really do want to know.”
