155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. Not with the unavoidable explanations, and the need to secrete the sword and hide it before returning the priest’s horse to its stable—which had been her excuse for running from Martha’s protestations. Even the light was different in Athens, soft and golden, sweet as the morning dew blessed by Athena herself. In a moment he was beside her. I don’t think you understand. “They ought to have been lopped in the spring. She took the piece of paper and unfolded it in the safety of her lap. Lucy howled as tooth met bone, her arm clamped in the trap of Rhea’s huge canines. But I trusted to that ring of yours. In twenty minutes we meet in the hall, remember.
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