“Left at the statue of Persephone… or is it right?” Calliope frowned at the statue trying to remember which side of the hall the damned thing was supposed to be on. It stared placidly back at her, one hand gripping a scepter and the other offering up a startlingly well carved pomegranate. She sighed.
“A little too late for that.” she muttered, running a hand briefly over her stomach. She’d have at least one more month before she’d even start to show… that is if she were anything like her eldest sister. And then what?
They’d already been here for several days and she had yet to work up the courage to tell him about the baby. Everyday had seen her coming up with another transparent reason not to tell him. Tomorrow and tomorrow… but tomorrow never comes. She sighed and glared accusingly at the statue.
She decided to go right. First find the bloody rooms, and then worry about everything else. One thing at a time.
Calliope was beginning to regret her attempted exploration of the underground palace. She’d only meant to take a look around and get acquainted, and alleviate her boredom, but had instead found herself lost and had spent the better part of the last hour wandering about in twisting circles in an attempt to find her way back. Now, and not for the first time, she found she’d chosen the wrong path. Not right. She should have gone with the first instinct.
She looked about the unfamiliar hall, her eyes searching for something which could mark it out as unique for her… but at this point it was all just blending together. The eye could only take so much gold before it was simply blinded by it. One mosaic bled into another, and the elaborate patterns in the tiled marble floor were just an unending series of bright colors now.
She sighed and turned back toward Persephone as nothing leapt out at her as familiar. Just as it came back in sight, a sound from a side corridor caught her ear. There was a pained cry followed by the timbre of an angry male voice. She found herself stopping to listen. There were voices, but too low to make out, save for the tone. The pleading sound of the woman’s voice drew her, and she followed it instinctively, not pausing to consider her actions, or to worry about losing herself further in the maze of halls and rooms.
The voices stopped, and Calliope started as a man came around a corner to stalk past her, his face contorted with a mixture of anger and disgust.
Calliope, paused a moment to watch him pass, but he hardly looked at her. She let out a small gasp when she looked around the corner and saw a woman slouched against the wall with her face buried in her hands.
Thinking she was hurt Calliope went to her, dropping down beside the weeping figure and reaching out to run a soothing hand over her blond hair as the other gently grasped her shoulder.
She felt a momentary pang. The almost strawberry shade of her hair somehow reminded her of Helena’s, or perhaps it was the youthful roundness of her face, or maybe just the weeping… Helena had always been one who was easily upset or hurt. Regardless, she couldn’t help but be caught by the flash of resemblance.
The girl looked up with a gasp of her own, startled by the unexpected contact. Her eyes were watery, and the kohl around them had smudged slightly around her blue-green eyes, but other than that, she didn’t look too ruffled.
“Are you alright?” The young woman blinked, then seemed to come to herself and gently waved her off.
“Ah, yes,” she continued clearing her throat, “I’m fine… it’s nothing.” She rose to her feet, allowing Calliope to let a supporting hand linger at her elbow before she pulled away completely, tidying her hair and smoothing herself back into order. She then underwent an odd transformation in which her head and body tilted and her eyes slanted darkly. She looked suddenly like all of the other women she’d seen in the halls.
It had never, until that moment, occurred to Calliope that one could ‘perform’ beauty. She’d just assumed it was innate. She considered for a moment her own sister Xanthippe and wondered how the thought had never occurred to her before. After all, she was, in truth no more beautiful than Demetra had ever been… and yet she was considered at large to be the greatest beauty of them all. Indeed this woman had become no more beautiful, and had changed nothing but her posture and the expression on her face… and yet she seemed an utterly different person.
It was a stunning revelation, and it brought a smile to her lips even as she watched the fair haired woman warily. Something in her expression must have caught the woman off guard because her new face faltered slightly for a moment. “Thank you.” She offered.
Calliope’s smiled back gently. “It’s nothing. You’re not hurt?”
Her face flickered again before her lips twisted sourly. “No.” It was one word, but it was filled with venom. Calliope could see it was not directed at her, however. So she tilted her head and waited, feeling that there was more meant to be said on the subject. The woman sighed and her expression broke completely as she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Not hurt,” she muttered to the floor, “undone, ruined, destroyed… but not hurt.”
“That… doesn’t sound promising.” She offered uncertainly, getting a humorless laugh in response.
“No. Not at all.”
“Do… ah, is there anything, I mean, could I do anything for you? To help?”
The woman finally glanced up then, giving Calliope a strange, searching look. “Help?”
“Yes.”
“Help me?”
“Yes?” Calliope frowned, uncertain as to why that should be unclear.
“Why?”
“Why? I don’t know. It seems the polite thing to do. I mean,” she continued, “who knows if I could help you… but if I can, I don’t see why I shouldn’t. Why don’t you tell me what the issue is, perhaps I can help resolve it.”
“I very much doubt it.”
Calliope smirked wryly. “Can it hurt to try?”
She returned the expression. “It might. Penelope… by the way.”
“Calliope. I meant what I said.” She reiterated softly, watching Penelope’s face as it flickered with apprehension.
“I can see that… I just don’t understand why. But…” she sighed again, “I don’t suppose it could hurt to tell you.” She nodded down the hall. “That man you passed, he is a slave dealer… and I belong to his… stable.” Calliope noticed her jaw tighten. “Unfortunately I am not the only one.” She glared down the hall a moment before she looked back at Calliope with a half sneer of a smile. “We’re offered a percentage if we can pull in one of the highest prices… so naturally the competition can become fierce. And that, you see, is my problem. We perform in order to capture the eye of a potential owner and if we cannot then we are more than likely out of the running and certainly have no chance at the best prices.”
“Wait… you compete to be owned?”
“Yes.” She arched a brow at her. “These are coveted positions… surely you’ve noticed the vast wealth of this place, and the power of those that control it? The blood of actual gods runs through their veins.”
“Yes, I suppose.”
She let out a laugh. “You suppose?”
Calliope shrugged, a little put off by the track of the conversation. “I honestly didn’t know these people… these beings, existed until a few months ago… and I wouldn’t have pictured any of this, even after I became aware of their existence. I had assumed they would be much as my own master.” She gestured to the opulence around them. “I was simply given to my master as part of a tribute… I can’t imagine competing for it.”
“Well, that’s how it works with the professionals. I imagine it’s different for the regular slaves.” She nodded to Calliope to indicate she meant her. Really Calliope couldn’t argue with the assessment. She wasn’t the singer, dancer or the ‘actress’ that these women must necessarily be. “Back to the point, I’ve been sabotaged by some of the others who have convinced the musicians not to play for me. Probably promised them all favors.” She huffed out an annoyed puff of air. “I’m really very good you know. That’s why they did it… the cowards. They wanted me out of the running.”
“Is that what has upset you? Why don’t you tell the dealer? Surely it’s in his best interest to make sure all his options are presented well?”
“I know!” she agreed, “exactly right! That’s what I tried to tell him… but he won’t listen… and I can’t understand why. He… he said some things that make me suspect someone’s been feeding him tales about me. I’m just…” She made a frustrated sound and clenched her fists before deflating completely. “I don’t know what to do.”
Calliope gnawed her bottom lip thoughtfully for a moment. “So… the immediate issue is that you need a musician?”
“Yes. For now.”
“Surely there must be numerous among all these slaves and servants. Even one would be better than nothing.”
“Yes, but you don’t just go around asking to borrow peoples servants. It’s not done.”