Page 10 of Prometheus' Priestess

“Don’t they?” Anotherhiccup.

“Do you not listen to any of my sermons, child?” He admonished Amara with a smile. She pulled back and made a face at him before he dragged her back in for another hug. In truth she was an avid note-taker in the sermons. Her devotion to somethingotherhad never been in question, not since Father Michel had knownher.

“The way I see it, the Devil and his demons have a bad reputation. After all, he was the fallen angel of God, the favourite. What if between the two of them they agreed that the Devil would be sent down to Earth to do the dirty work? What if the dirty work is a way to turn us closer to God? Besides, there can be no light without dark. What a thankless task he has. What grace it must take to do the dirty, unappreciated work that could actually help us.” Father Michel paused. “If only we didn’t use demons or monsters ascrutches.”

Amara bit her full lower lip. She knew what he was getting at, but still …

“I’mscared.”

“I know, child. That’s a good thing. It will keep yousafe.”

“I thought you just said monsters weren’t bad things?” Sheteased.

“That doesn’t mean I want to see you hurt.” He squeezed hertighter.

Eventually she said, “You’re not mad at me for wanting to leave?”

“How can I be mad at a part of you Ilove?”

A brief silence fell between them, heavy with the weight of memories, until Father Michel spoke once again.

“Where will you go?”

“Scotland,” Amara said immediately, with such confidence and clarity that she suddenly realised this was what she had been mulling over in agony all this time. Not where she would go but what she would leave behind.

“You still believe that the tartan you were wrapped in as a babe has something to do with your birth parents? A message of somekind?”

“I don’t know.” Amara shrugged, though that was a lie to herself more than anyone else. It was why she kept the tartan in question always neatly folded at the bottom edge of her bed. The tug in her gut when she saw it every morning was a visceral thing, the thread of life that pulled at her.

At that moment, the winds began to whistle through the church melodically. They felt like a siren call to Amara that she couldn’t begin to put into words. All she knew was that she wanted to chase the wind’s tail until she arrived at the destination she was, for want of better words, destined for.

“It would seem as if the winds are calling you,” Father Michel said, a twinkle in his eye. Amara sat up and peeked at him from behind long eyelashes and eyed him warily. Occasionally, she was convinced he could actually read her mind. Hechortled.

“Ah, you are an open bookchild.”

She nudged him playfully with her shoulder and he wrapped an arm around her again until she leant in fully for a cuddle. His torso was squishy, but his arm around her was firm ... as if there was strength of steel beneath the soft layer of fat he held. The rough material of his jumper scratched at her cheeks but she didn’t mind. Always, this man had been her solid, dependable rock.

“When will yougo?”

“I’m not sure yet,” she whispered. “Soon I think, but I’ll come back.” Though they both knew she wouldn’t know when, and he could likely be dust on the wind, Father Michel smiled and agreed.

“I’ll see you when you’reback.”

“And I’ll write toyou.”

“I shall await stories of your adventures with eager anticipation.” A muzzled kiss pressed to herforehead.

“I don’t know exactly where I’ll endup.”

“Do any ofus?”

Finally Amara said, “I’m still scared, Father.”

“Ah.” His grip tightened on her shoulder fiercely. “We’re all a little scared, child, but the best adventures come with a littlerisk.”

CHAPTER V

“Iwarned Athena this might happen.” Prometheus said, staring at an incredulous Aphrodite.

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