Atalanta

by Jennifer Saint

‘We have to get away,’ I mumbled. ‘Hide in here.’ And he nodded, dazed. The heavy fragrance of the roses receded as we made our way further inside. Now I breathed in Hippomenes again, the fresh mountain-scent, the earthiness of the temple interior, moss and stone. I barely thought of where we were, of the wooden carvings of ancient deities standing like guards around the ruined walls, Rhea taller than any of them, her painted eyes on us. I kissed him right in front of her, lightning sparking behind my eyes, an eager intensity that burned away any other thoughts in my head. The thought I’d tried to hold on to, the worry that a vengeful Aphrodite was leading us into a trap, it didn’t matter now. That fear drifted away like a wisp of cloud as I pulled him closer to me, his hands sliding down my back, his hair tangled in my fingers, nothing else existing in the world but the two of us. The flames roared through me, an inferno obliterating any coherent deliberation, anything that could have held me back from him. If it was Aphrodite’s spell that had us ensnared, our wits clouded by her magic, we were caught in it together. The night beyond the temple’s walls was still poised and watchful, but within its dark sanctuary, we were all that mattered.