Theta by Lizzy Ford Page A

humans, let
alone someone who was far beyond his prime. Likewise, the prince I
had been four thousand years ago would have viewed the old man’s
visit as an inconvenience.
    But I wasn’t either of those people anymore.
I wasn’t a monster. I wasn’t a prince. I was something in between,
or perhaps, someone new, and I didn’t really know what that
was.
    After a pause, I stood. I didn’t fully
understand what drew me to consider helping, when kindness had
never been a trait of mine in any of my lifetimes. Unable to
explain my reaction, I nonetheless never hesitated to act once I
made a decision, and trotted across the sand to the old man
struggling to stand.
    I shooed the dogs away and knelt. “Are you
well?” I asked.
    “ I am old,” was the
response. Pain was in the old man’s voice. “Sometimes the sand
upsets my joints.”
    I helped him sit then took his arm to help
him stand. The old man leaned heavily against me as he climbed to
his feet.
    “ Thank you,” he murmured.
He took a step – and collapsed, or would have, if I didn’t catch
him.
    “ Walking doesn’t suit you
today,” I said. Without waiting for an invitation to help, I bent
and swept the old man up into my arms. The elderly gentleman was
light. His baggy clothing hid his frailness well. “Around the bend,
you say?”
    “ Yes.” The old man pointed.
“I’ll have you know my pride does not agree with being carried.” He
laughed hoarsely.
    I had no response, because I couldn’t
understand my willingness to help anymore than I could unravel the
mystery of what I was doing halfway around the world when I needed
to be in DC.
    “ What is your name?” the
old man peered up at me.
    Had I thought his eyes dark brown? In the
direct sunlight, they were closer to the hue of whiskey.
    “ Adonis.”
    “ Ah. Your parents named you
well. Very fitting to be named after the god of beauty.”
    “ It’s just a name,” I
replied, aware of how false my words rang when I’d traveled around
the world for the sake of a name. “And you are?”
    “ Menelaus.”
    “ I hope you had better luck
in your life with women than the king you were named
after.”
    Menelaus chuckled. “Unfortunately, I did
not.”
    “ I’m sorry to hear it. But
maybe you’re better off without a woman in your life.”
    “ You’ve known the pain of
loving a woman, I take it?” Menelaus was grinning, revealing the
gaps in his teeth.
    “ I don’t know,” I replied,
unsettled by the question but more so by my quickening pulse
whenever I thought of Alessandra. What I wanted, and what I
sometimes felt, had no place in a world as dangerous as mine. I was
a monster posing as a human, a danger to everyone around
me.
    “ What do you know, boy?” Menelaus
challenged.
    “ Only that I’m
lost.”
    “ There’s something to be
said for knowing when you don’t know anything, I
suppose.”
    I ignored him. As I walked along the road,
carrying the man easily, I began to doubt his mind. I had been up
and down the coast multiple times in man and beast form, and never
noticed this cottage of which he spoke.
    The dogs ran around us, at times bounding
quite a distance ahead and at times darting behind us to pursue
rodents.
    We rounded the bend, and I spotted the small
cottage overlooking the sea. My step slowed. How had I missed this
place?
    Had I missed it?
    “ You’re far from the
village,” I observed. “Aren’t you afraid of the thieves, wild
animals, and gods?”
    “ I’ve lived my life. If one
of them comes for me, so be it,” Menelaus replied. “This is my
home. I have no desire to leave. Besides, this place is said to be
enchanted. A temple of Apollo once stood here. I am
safe.”
    His explanation did little
to quell my curiosity. I approached the front door and shifted the
man so I could open it. The door wasn’t locked, and I withheld my
rebuke. It was one thing to risk the dangers prevalent in the world
and quite another to dare them to enter. Enchanted or not, he