Page 66 of The Truth About Myths
"Indeed. It’s time the cicada had a little push."
He so bemused her she only noticed he had strapped her to a ropy contraption when he guided her atop a makeshift stair. Even then, she was more preoccupied with his scent and how she could keep it inside herself.
They arrived at a wooden platform at least ten feet above stage level.
She would be above the stage when the curtains opened, facing the audience. Understanding of his plans dawned on her. Her stomach fluttered, and she held his arm. "What should I do?"
"Jump." The glow of stage lights played on the planes of his face. He bent to speak close to her ear. "Have a pleasant flight."
Slowly, he moved away from her, his expression an odd mixture of anticipation and worry.
She waited, brushing her ungloved hands against her bare arms. She barely recognized this Isabel, and yet, she didn't want to descend the stairs back to safety.
With a swoosh, the curtains opened. The light dazzled her. Her heart sped up, and the air solidified. Henrique demanded too much from her. Flight? It wasn't for her. On the stage, Alfonso sat on a throne, posing as Hercules. The rows of chairs were filled with aristocrats, their faces blurring into one flesh-colored mass. Her gaze flitted aimlessly, looking for purchase in a world that moved too fast.
Then she found Henrique.
The invisible threads stretched until they connected her with him. She placed higher trust in their bond than the ropes strapped over her waist. She took a fortifying breath and then two. Keeping eye contact, Isabel jumped. Airborne, her center of gravity tilted. Her tummy tingled, and laughter choked out of her.
While she floated above the stage, the audience cheered, awed by Henrique's creation.
All she could feel and see was Henrique staring at her. He made love to her with his eyes, but his lust did not reduce her womanly power. It enhanced it. He laughed as if her delight made him weightless.
She loved him. The realization arrived in a rush. Instead of alarming her, it made her soar and glide, unburdened by matters of state, by appearances, by playing a part. It was air, and Henrique, and those blue eyes staring at her.
Isabel missed her cue to speak.
Shaking her head slightly, she lifted her palm. "My name is Virtue. I came for you, Hercules. If you take the road to me, you will do great and noble things. Listen well, for nothing worthwhile comes without work. To earn the favor of the gods, you must worship the gods. Desiring the love of friends, you must do good for them ... and if you want your body to be strong, you must make it the servant of your mind and train it with effort and sweat."
Rafaela sashayed onto the stage, her dress displaying a naked shoulder, and offered Hercules a red apple. "My dear hero, I want to be your best friend. Follow me, and your road will be pleasant and easy. You won't know hardship, and all the sweet things in life will be yours. Forget wars and worries—your cares will be what food or drink you prefer and what sights and sounds most delight you. What touch or perfume most pleases, whose tender love you most enjoy, and what bed yields the softest slumbers."
"Lady, what is your name?" Hercules asked.
"My friends call me Happiness. Those who hate me call me Vice." Rafaela curtsied, and the audience laughed.
Rafaela clasped Hercules' hand. "The road to virtue is hard and long. Let me take you down the short and easy path to happiness."
Isabel inhaled to speak. "Choose me. Vice will lead you to despair. Stay with me, and I will lead you to happiness."Choose me, Henrique. Stay with me.If she thought it hard enough, he would listen. He mouthed something, but the noise of wood scraping startled her.
Hercules had risen from the throne. While he looked from Rafaela to Isabel, the audience hooted, some calling for him to choose vice. The women laughed. Isabel forced herself to pay attention. Just a few more lines and the play would end, and she could listen to what Henrique had to say.
Hercules cleared his throat and pointed his club in her direction. "I chose you, Isabel."
The audience cheered at Alfonso's faux pas, and they clapped when the curtains closed.
For a disconcerting moment, all was black. A rush of energy floated through her. As the crank of a pulley signaled her descent, she was lowered slowly, but her spine tingled as if she was ascending still. In the dark, she waited for Henrique to help her out of the contraption.
Hands circled her waist.
Isabel opened her eyes in time to see Henrique's retreating figure. Her breath caught, and she blinked repeatedly. In his place stood Alfonso, his enraptured face lowered to her.
"You were amazing," Alfonso said.
"Oh, I'm glad you liked it." Isabel tried but failed to keep the disappointment from her voice.
"Like it? You were exceptional. I will hire whoever created this to be my main engineer."
If he waits long enough to be caught,she thought bitterly.
