Quicksilver by Spinner Stephanie

Author:Spinner, Stephanie [Spinner, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2007-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY

He was indeed beautiful, a slim, peachy-skinned youth with dark eyes and long lashes. Such folk cause hearts to flutter and minds to stall. They command adoring attention, even if they’re doing something trivial, and so it was with Paris. When I arrived on Mount Ida, after a long, sky-coursing run in my winged sandals, he was lying in a meadow, surrounded by his flock. A lovely young nymph—a river girl, to judge by her webbed hands and feet—crouched behind him, assiduously picking lice out of his hair. The sheep, the nymph, and the lice, too, for all I knew, were alert to his every move.

When he shifted, the nymph implored him to be still, rapping him gently with her fine-toothed wooden comb. “Paris, please! I’m almost finished.” He shrugged restlessly. “Are you too warm?” she asked with concern. He nodded, pouting. “As soon as I’m done, I’ll fan you,” she promised, and he sighed. Then, like a child trading good behavior for a sweet, he closed his eyes and lay perfectly still. He was even more beautiful in repose.

At length the nymph put down her comb. “There. All done. The lice love you almost as much as I do.” She kissed the top of his head.

Paris smiled, sat up, and scratched his head vigorously. The nymph handed him a vial of sweet oil, and he ran the stuff through his hair. Then he took to twisting his fine dark curls into long ringlets, tossing them over his shoulder one by one until they covered his back like an exotic pelt. He did this with total self-absorption, and the nymph watched, enthralled.

She loves him and he loves him, I thought. But will it last? Long years of escorting the dead down to Hades had taught me that such pairings often end in murderous rage, at least on one side. At present, though, these two seemed quite content.

I whipped off my Cap of Invisibility to make them jump, and they did. It’s a cheap trick, but sometimes I can’t resist.

“Lord Hermes!” Paris knelt with easy grace.

“Good day,” I said. “You are Paris?”

“I am.”

“And you are—?” I asked the nymph.

“Oenone,” she said, “of the river Oenus.”

I recognized the name; I had heard it from Apollo. Long ago, when he himself was living as a shepherd, he’d taken a liking to the nymph and taught her the art of healing. And now you devote your time to Paris, I thought, who doesn’t seem to appreciate you.

“I come with a message from All-Powerful Zeus,” I told Paris, and his eyes widened. “He wants you to judge a contest.”

“Livestock?” he asked eagerly.

“Not exactly,” I replied. “Beauty.”

I told him about the apple and its inscription and the uproar it had caused on Olympus. “Because you possess great beauty yourself, Zeus thinks you can be impartial in the judging of it,” I said.

A rosy flush crept up his neck. “I—I am so surprised!” he said with emotion. “This is a great honor! And—and I will do my best to be fair and impartial, as Lord Zeus wishes.

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