The Stone by the Stream (Part 14)

Though Agatha and Bartholomew remained at the table for a time, mostly exchanging pleasantries with Lydia, it was clear that the substance of their visit was over. Within a few minutes Ariston was leading the two of them out the door, not so much politely as with a great show of forbearance.

“And don’t forget, Cynthia dear, the Temple would love to have you join us, as long as it’s your own free choice,” Agatha said as she stepped out the doorway.

“I’ll remember that,” Cynthia said.

“Thanks for your visit,” Ariston said through clenched teeth. He shut the door with a little more force than necessary, but it wouldn’t be fair to say he slammed it.

He turned around, placed his hands on Cynthia’s shoulders, and looked into her eyes for a time. His face betrayed a complex net of emotions, but his gaze remained firm. His hands trembling, he said, “I don’t know how… but we will find a way to keep you from them, my daughter. I swear that to you by the Huntress herself.”

Lydia scoffed, still sitting at the table. “And what do you think we can do? They could ruin us any time they want! You might as well go with them, girl. Right now, if you can catch them!”

“You seem awfully eager to throw me to the vultures now,” Cynthia observed.

“What can we do?” Lydia cried, lifting her hands in bewilderment.

Cynthia lowered her head. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do right now,” Ariston said. “Right now I’m going out to work my fields. Don’t you worry, Cynthia. We’ll think of something.”

The rest of the day passed in an anxious haze. Going through her daily activities, Cynthia kept her mind squarely on the Huntress, begging the Goddess to help her find a way out. Because if Cynthia had already had reservations about joining the Temple, now she was certain joining it would be the end of her.

But what right did she have to endanger her family — Ariston, Lydia, little Aglaia, and baby Jonas? Probably the Temple wasn’t contemplating any immediate action against them, but Cynthia could well imagine Agatha coming back in a few days with definite threats, demands, and a deadline. Probably to salve their consciences, the Temple seemed insistent on the point that she had to come willingly. But that patience would run out. It was only a question of when.

Could they slip away in the night, perhaps? No, it was a ridiculous thought. Even if that didn’t mean relocating the whole family to some alien land — a land where there was no guarantee they’d be safe from the Temple’s reach — there were too many practical difficulties.

In all likelihood the house was under observation, for one thing. That meant they would have to pack, prepare the cart, and get underway under cover of darkness. A difficult proposition, not to mention that the darkness didn’t promise they wouldn’t be seen.

Take the case to the courts? Again, doubtful. The Temple would have more resources to dedicate to the case than a single family. And anyway, Cynthia thought as she watched the family housecat toying with a mouse, the Temple could plausibly claim never to have threatened the family at all.

Even if they could win a court case, Ariston would likely lose the farm in the process.

Could Cynthia slip out on her own? Simply get away and start a new life somewhere else? No — that was impossible, and it was the worst option of all. Even if she could get away, she’d be sacrificing her family’s well-being to save herself. She was quite sure the Temple would be willing to carry out their “non-threats” no matter the reason for Cynthia’s absence.

So she prayed to the Goddess — that she might disclose some path forward. She prayed as she went about her daily chores, as the family sat down to a tense dinner, as she put her brother and sister to bed. Prayed for guidance, prayed for certainty, and prayed for the courage to do what she knew she had to do…

Because the thinking was all theater, the weighing options was all a game to avoid the unavoidable: the only possible escape.

She had to find her way to the stone and talk to the Goddess — tonight.

No human power in her grasp could free her from the Temple’s reach. But if the Huntress had truly chosen her to be an oracle, maybe, just maybe, she would be willing to show Cynthia the way.

Cynthia hated to contemplate that — what if the Goddess commanded her to defy the Temple? What if Sofia had been right and the Temple was really trying to kill the gods? What could she do in the face of such a task — far beyond any mortal?

Never in her life had Cynthia felt so helpless and frail. Her stomach felt hollow as she thought of all the Goddess might demand of her.

But if the Goddess demanded it of her… maybe that meant she could do it.

Just as in the woods after her fall, Cynthia felt a kind of relief to realize she was committed. Though she couldn’t see the path ahead, she knew the next step. And she could only trust to the Huntress for the rest.

So in the dark of night, after the family had gone to sleep, Cynthia opened a window and slipped out in search of the path to the clearing.

But before she’d gotten ten paces from the house, a familiar voice greeted her with an amused tone: “Just what do you think you’re doing, little Cynthia?”