Authors: Jessie Harrell
Vesta backed away, disappeared into the crowd, and was gone. Although still a little shaky, I was ready to escape from this throng of people too.
The only thing I knew now was that I had to get to Ceres’s temple in Eleusis. After finishing the flask-filling task I’d started, I grabbed Xanthy’s mane and began to lead her away.
But I realized I still didn’t have a way to get on her back. If I wanted to make Eleusis by nightfall, traveling on horseback was a must. I looked around the packed mall, seeing only people scurrying about their business like rats. But the fountain was empty. Would anyone notice?
Hopping onto the fountain wall that separated the people from the pool, I steadied myself with Xanthy’s mane to keep from accidentally falling in. I easily flung my left leg over Xanthy’s back and wiggled into place. With a nudge of my heels, Xanthy and I barged our way through the mass of people until we were safely back on the road leading out of Megara. Once outside the city gates, we headed north and began the trek to Eleusis.
Blessedly, the road was empty.
I waited until after dark to slip through the gates of Eleusis and wind my way toward the city center. We followed the well-rutted road and, as expected, it led directly to the agora. The empty market stands and discarded scraps hinted at the life that would fill the long, rectangular plaza again come daybreak. But in darkness, it was eerily lifeless.
On the far end of the agora I could make out the silhouette of a temple. A few solitary torches flickered from inside. Sliding from Xanthy’s back, I approached slowly, feeling total reverence for the goddess as I stood in the footprint of her most sacred shrine.
To honor the goddess for her gift of agriculture, the Eleusisians had built a temple that itself seemed to grow from the earth. Long slender columns, like stalks of wheat, lifted the massive triangular roof. Icons of the goddess, riding in her horse-drawn chariot, graced every wall.
Taking a deep breath, I left Xanthy behind and climbed the steep temple staircase. My leather sandals tapped lightly against the marble stairs. The only other sound was of the wheat field at my back as the wind chaffed the stalks against one another. The temple floor was so far elevated above the ground that I couldn’t see inside until I was more than half way up the steps. When I could take in the full sanctuary of the temple, what I saw shocked me.
There I was, standing in the most renowned temple to Ceres in all of Greece, and it looked like a pack of wild pigs had been let loose inside. Shriveled ears of corn lay scattered across the floor with brittle, brown stalks of barley. Mixed in among the rubble were farmers’ tools — rakes, hoes, and sickles — left strewn about like the farmers had simply tired of tending the field across the way and tossed the devices inside with little care for where they landed. In a far corner, one of the smaller statutes tilted precariously against the wall.
Even if I could’ve focused amongst so much rubble, I refused to ask for Ceres’ help while her tribute lay in ruins.
I ran to the statute and wedged myself between it and the wall. At first I didn’t think I’d have the strength to stand it back up, but by pushing with my legs, the statute eventually lumbered back onto its base with a thud that echoed through the cavernous sanctuary.
Then I started picking up the litter of tools. When I’d collected them all and arranged them neatly in another corner, I started working on the mixture of expired grains. Fortunately, I found a little grass basket, which I used to collect the debris.
When I thought I’d collected everything, I paused, surveying my work for a minute. There was satisfaction in cleaning. It wasn’t just serving a goddess. It felt good to have made order out of chaos. Satisfied that the temple was once again tidy, I turned to dart down the steps and throw away the wasted grains.
I got little more than half way through my turn before bouncing off a warm, solid chest. The little basket crushed into her and sent the grains I’d worked so hard to collect spraying once again across the floor. I was about to yell at the woman for standing behind me, scaring me, and ruining my work, when I recognized the face of Ceres.
Why did goddesses seem to think it was a good idea to sneak up behind me today?
Immediately, I dropped to my knees, reaching frantically for the strewn grain. Before I could grasp even two pieces, she exhaled a gentle breath, like she was blowing out an already waning candle, and they were gone. Even the pieces I had gathered were gone. I looked up and Ceres was smiling.
But she wasn’t mocking me. Her smile was gentle, motherly. The radiance in her eyes was so openly caring that I wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in her arms. While she didn’t hug me, she did hold out a softly golden hand and helped me to my feet.
“Thank you, Psyche,” she said. “You can’t imagine how it pains me to see this, of all my temples, in such disarray. Autumn is one thing. I don’t really even care then, what with the farmers so busy with their harvets. But I have come to expect better in the springtime.” Her deep brown eyes sparkled as she spoke, taking in the sanctuary with obvious pride.
“I can’t believe they ever let it get like this,” I said, now angry with the Eleusians for failing to take better care of the temple.
Ceres waved away my concern. “They’re busy with the spring planting. I suppose I can’t be too cross with them for using my gifts.” Then she moved silently through the temple, decorating every crevice with explosions of fruits and flowers.
Her copper dress swayed effortlessly as she moved. When a spray of mahogany hair worked itself free from her carefree bun, she simply tucked it behind her ear and continued her creations. It was like watching a dancer and artist rolled into one.
Having created the last of her cornucopias, Ceres dusted her hands off and turned her attention back to me.
“Now, am I correct that you didn’t come visit me to brush up on your domestic skills?”
My gaze dropped away from her liquid eyes as I nodded. “I don’t know where to begin,” I stammered. “I’ve never made a prayer in person before.”
She laughed softly and set her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. I already know what you’ve come to ask.” She sighed. “I only wish there was more I could do.”
I searched for an explanation in her dark eyes, unable to speak. Hope rushed out of me like water bursts from a cracked dam.
“I will do my best.” A sad smile tugged up one corner of her bronze-tinted lips. “But just as I couldn’t shield my own daughter from Hades, I can’t protect you from Aphrodite forever.”
“I don’t need forever,” I stammered. “Just long enough to get to Olympus so I can see Eros. If we can just talk once he’s calm, I’m sure we can work this out.”
“You’ll never get to Eros unless Aphrodite wants you to.”
I blinked blankly at her lovely face, unsure what she was telling me.
“You won’t like it, but there is a way,” she finally told me.
“Anything!” I blurted.
“You can’t hide from her. You can’t get past her. You just have to go to her.” Ceres continued, “She’s angry with you, on many levels at the moment, but she’ll respect your courage. You’ve got to make things up to her before you get the chance to apologize to Eros.”
My own weight was suddenly
too heavy and my legs wouldn’t hold.
It was like the monumental roof above my head was slowly squashing me into the ground.
I crumpled into a pile at Ceres’s feet.
“Come on now, I just picked you up off that floor a moment ago,” she softly chided.
She
scooped me up under my arms and placed me back on my feet.
My knees started to buckle again, but a sharp look from Ceres forced me to get myself under control.
“This is not hopeless,” she said.
I
nodded my head with little, stunted
movements.
It was the best I could do to indicate that
I understood,
even though
I didn’t.
Turning myself over to Aphrodite seemed about as sane as dancing in a fire.
“If I thought she was going to kill you, I’d spare you the anguish and take you down to Hades myself,” Ceres said.
Some comfort.
I didn’t want to be tortured, banished, ruined or any of the myriad other things Aphrodite could do to me short of death.
I just wanted to see Eros.
“Besides,” Ceres continued, “I think she’s calmed down since her first attempt.”
Words failed me for a second time in as many minutes. Aphrodite has already tried to kill me? Like, really and truly kill me — not just curse me and ruin my life?
“Buck up,” she said, closing my unhinged jaw with her finger. “You’ll be fine.”
The
constancy in Ceres’s eyes was impossible to ignore.
That’s when I realized, I was standing before a goddess of Olympus, who was telling me, as gently as she could, that I’d run out of options.
I bit at the corner of my lip as I considered what to do next.
“Okay,” I finally said.
“How should I find her?”
Ceres’s smile spread across her face, penetrating all the way up to her eyes.
“I knew I wasn’t wasting my time with you,” she beamed. “I don’t know that you’re particularly brave, but you clearly love our little Eros.” Then she added in a hushed voice, leaning in closer so her words couldn’t be overheard,
“Devotion like yours cannot be ignored, even by an Olympian.
Remember that.”
“I will,” I promised.
“Excellent.”
Ceres stood tall again and grasped my hand in hers. “Come on then.
I’ll take you.”
“Wait.
Right now?”
I pulled my hand away.
“What about my horse?” I asked, faltering
for any excuse to stall.
“I can’t just leave Xanthy here.”