Ithaca (The Songs of Penelope, #1)

by Claire North

but skim across the ocean like tears down a mirror.

I who have been stripped of honour, of power and of that fire that should be mine, I who have nothing to lose that the poets have not already taken from me, only I will tell you the truth. I, who part the veil of time, will tell those stories that only the women tell. So follow me to the western isles, to the halls of Odysseus, and listen.