Atalanta

by Jennifer Saint

Phiale took up the tale. ‘He tried to get away, he scrambled back towards the trees, but I could see where his hair dripped with water that there was something forming on his head, something that made no sense. I stared, not able to believe what I was seeing, but as he screamed, I saw it taking shape – two antlers twisting out of his skull.’ ‘Antlers?’ I gasped. ‘But how . . .?’ ‘He fell, and all across his body, fur was growing. He was convulsing, over and over, his screams ringing into the sky, and then he rolled over on to four legs – no longer a man but a stag.’ ‘The dogs . . .’ Callisto said, and she swallowed. ‘He tried to flee, his legs tangling underneath him. They leapt on him at once, and the whole grove rang with the sound of their snarls.’ ‘I couldn’t watch,’ Callisto said.