CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER ONE

He sat atop the pinnacle of Mount Xailow, one of his favored lone spots in the Star Algol, a bright red star much maligned in the fables as an evil star with a million years of notorious reputation. From his viewpoint, he could watch the ethereal sky as she lovingly moved and gave cover to the Purple Sea that had teemed with all kinds of fiery creatures for over a thousand years.

The waft of acrid air from the Purple Sea hit his handsome features, sending megavolts of powerful energy through his enormous wings that covered more than a third of the entire mountain. The undulating movement of his wings gave off the sound of the most doleful kind of music in the air and created swathes of all unimaginable colors and hues in the sky.

Indeed, there is none like me, he thought.

'I am Lucifer, born of the beauty of the morning, the epitome of beauty, love, and excellence—heaven's most formidable foe and possessor of the darkness. Once more, I will shake the heavens and the earth to their very foundations.'

He smiled ruefully to himself, and without warning, he belted out a most hideous form of laughter.

'I am the highest point of all God ever made or can ever make … not humankind,' he sneered.

The papers in his enormous hands were the key to his restoration. He smiled again. Mount Xailow pulled him so because it was the only place from which he could manage a distant glimpse of the gates of heaven, the distance of which was ever-increasing since he was first ousted from his high estate. His cheekbones twitched as though he were hiding a smile. 'Not long now, for it will all be mine.' His eyes lighted up with the fire of darkness.

Unto us, a child is born. It was going to be some grueling task since he had hardly said one kind word in these three thousand years, but it was a task that he and he alone could undertake.

'Why would the lord of evil condescend to take this assignment to teach another to do good for the sake of a greater evil?' He turned, and it was Beelzebub, the captain of his host and the lord of the flies.

'A greater good for us all, and a task only the worthiest leader can undertake,' Lucifer replied. 'Great comrade-in-arms and most reliable of the foes of the Almighty throne of light, how has the battle gone so far, with the two-faced healer?' Lucifer asked. 

'It leaves nothing more to be desired. The deed is done and well done if I may say so myself. I have, however, come to inform you that the child has been spotted in a hospital near Athens by one of my fiends and that all preparations are concluded, my great Lord.' He ended with a low bow, splaying wings of magnificent plumage. Beelzebub once belonged to the high-ranking order of archangels a step lower than the Order of the Princes, where Lucifer had belonged, and two steps lower than Michael, who was one of the chief princes. These dark angels once belonged to the Great Heavenly Assembly of these beings of ranking and authority with capacity varying in glory, strength, and wisdom, depending largely on assignment and function.

'Very well then. You must fly swiftly. Assemble the horde from every world and realm we have ever visited since the dawn of time. Every creature that evil can boast of must be recruited for a holy convocation. I will address them personally. It has begun.'

*****************************************************

Martha rose early, as was her custom.

She lived in Oropos, a small municipal town on the eastside of Attica, some forty-five minutes' drive from Athens. What was left of the majestic temple of Amphiaraus could still be seen from her house. She felt that there was something holy about that place, and she almost said a prayer when she saw it every morning. Though she was a staunch Catholic, the place held a certain mystery for her, and she would sometimes roll the name Amphiaraus on her tongue into the morning breeze in awe and wonder. Her ancestors had worshiped Amphiaraus, and even though she was almost sure she wanted nothing to do with some pagan god, she found she was attached in ways she could not understand.

She hastened to finish the daily house chores and make the baby comfortable after nursing him; there were nagging thoughts— almost memories—in her mind that she had left largely unattended, partly for fear of what she would decide and partly for the lack of time to even ponder them. She had returned from the hospital a little over a week ago, and the pressures of the life she had left behind had returned almost immediately. It was as if a thick, heavy cloud hung over her as she moved around her daily business. Try as she might, she could not shake it off. Martha turned from the porch to go back into the house, raking her fingers through her jet-black hair in some form of exasperation. She had a lot to think about.

'Lord, I could use some strength right now if you don't mind.'

It seemed such a trivial prayer with all that crowded her mind, but that was all she could think to ask.

The home was a rather remote log house bordered by a boulevard of some of the finest fruit and timber trees in all of Greece. The wild pear tree was, for her, nature's finest source of forest enchantment with its honeyed scents and winsome delights. It was the nest for four species of insects producing honeydew from spring to autumn. This was September, the season of honey-making bees. Even through her heaviness, she could hardly resist the joy and the sweetness of the forest air filled with the aroma of wild honey. She smiled, and her face was transformed for the short time.

She looked towards the post pile and saw the now-familiar bulk of the second consignment of canned foods, cereals, beverages, and a myriad of other offerings sent from the government to new mothers and children. Somehow, seeing that made her feel good to be a mother. She enjoyed the respite from reality for just a moment more before she snatched up the package and walked briskly inside to the crib. As she had expected, the baby had begun to stir, and before she could pick him up, he was readying himself to let out a yell of dissatisfaction.

She tried to calm him and settled him to nurse once he was in a better mood. Once he was finished eating, she put him back in the crib and troubled the chimes and mobile above the cot to keep him occupied for a while. She hoped the diversion would distract him long enough for her to complete her other chores. There was still so much to do, and she was learning that a baby did not wait for chores to be done.

She checked on the baby, her cupid child, every now and then. He was, to her, the best and most beautiful thing that heaven could have given her. Yet, she felt there was more to come that would make things unpleasant.

Now you're drifting away again, she thought. It was that familiar voice of the fight in her spirit, chiding her for traveling down Regret Road again. Recently, she had been thinking a lot of home and her father, Alexander Sathos, an exceedingly wealthy merchant and owner of the renowned shipping line known as The Sathos Fly. He was popular in Thessaloniki and one of the most celebrated Greeks in Europe.

He had made his position clear, in the most gentlemanly way possible, the moment the news reached him from his wife that their daughter was with child.

'What?' he had said. Fire leaped into his eyes, and he could be seen trying to swallow the knot that had formed in his throat, but he kept his composure. It was this famed composure that had made him such a force to be reckoned with in the shark-infested waters of the business world.

'You heard me.' Eleni tried hard not to give way to the desperation growing inside. She had been a Greek beauty in her prime, and time had been very kind. 'Martha is pregnant for …' Her voice broke off into a whisper, and she could not keep the tears away.

'I know who. I remember the young man … Sosthenes. He looked like trouble,' Alex said very quietly. Eleni was choking from the tension in the room; he was quiet, too quiet.

After pacing the floor for a few minutes, Alex stopped and seemed calm. She knew it was the quiet before the storm. He walked straight to his wife, who sat in a crumpled heap on the sofa, and pulled her up into his embrace. He soothed her, rubbing circles on her back until she stilled. He looked into her eyes, and she knew he had made his decision.

'Get rid of the baby,' he said. She knew that note of finality. It had often made its way into their twenty-one years of communication in marriage. It brokered no argument, and she knew to be silent and listen. 'And while you make the plans …' He paused. He continued in a milder voice. 'Get her out of this house. Immediately.' He walked off into his inner chambers without waiting to be argued with.

Martha heard everything.

In a desperate bid to escape her father's verdict on her precious unborn child, she left before her mother finally got herself together to deliver her father's instructions. She had thought he would be kind to her. She loved him and admired him so much that she had patterned her lifestyle to imitate her father's strength, courage, and titanium-reinforced will of steel to get past obstacles at all cost. She had fought for his attention as a child and was rewarded with one of his rare deep and genuine smiles for her efforts.

She had thought his love for her would make the burden easier to bear, but she was wrong once again. Men were not as strong and dependable as they often claimed. Her father seemed more concerned about his pride family name and personae than her happiness and welfare.

She sat on the sofa with one leg tucked beneath her and the other swinging back and forth, and she wondered where it had all gone wrong. Had she not been far too strong for her own good? Too busy being strong to notice, her vulnerability was the same as any woman her age. Was this all she was? The sometimes witty and beautiful eighteen-year-old daughter of a shipping mogul and now the renegade child of her parents, unloved and neglected.

The only one who could have made this bearable was long gone. Sosthenes. She almost loathed speaking his name. She had gone to him that night to offer her a place to stay until she knew what she was to do, but once he knew she was trying to protect their child, she saw the real man the outward beauty covered. He had called her baby—their baby—a bastard! She did not know what to expect, but it surely was not the treatment he meted to her. Some accusations made no sense about her dallying with other men, and after the wild claims, he made it known that he would not take responsibility for her or the child. In one moment, her worst nightmare had occurred. Papa had been right. Sosthenes was no good, but there was no point traveling that road now. The deed had been done. Sosthenes would not even let her stay the night.

She tried not to cry now. She was still Alex Sathos' daughter, and she was stronger than whatever came her way. The tears streamed down her face regardless.

Martha awakened to the cry of the infant. The sun was setting, and she had cried herself to sleep a while; it seemed the only way she could get any sleep these days. As she carried the child from the crib, she remembered that she had not had her phone with her for hours. Adelfa, a childhood friend, had called the previous day promising to come see her and the child. Adelfa was indeed a sister of the soul and spirit. They had often been referred to as the female versions of Damon and Pythias in their childhood, and their loyalty and solidarity only grew with the years. For both of them, however, it felt more like Hermes and Aphrodite, a hermaphrodite relationship where Martha played the dominant male role of the go-getting rake and achiever while Adelfa took on the good-natured supportive assistant who had always secretly adored her friend.

In Martha's predicament at this turn of events, it was Adelfa's turn to play the leading lady role. 'You have been strong for me all our lives. It's my turn now,' she had said to Martha that night, taking her friend into her arms. It was Adelfa who had taken her in that night and later arranged for this cottage she was staying in. Martha had insisted she felt like a burden to Adelfa and her brother who lived in a mansion all by themselves. The cottage was an old family heritage handed down to them when their parents had died two years prior. Martha thought it was close to nature and closer to God, and it was bordered by the sea on one side.

She scrolled through the phone with one hand and the baby in the other. She stared at the screen in dismay. 'This is plain simple crazy. Thirty-three missed calls! Gosh! What was I thinking?' She stopped. She had been a bit too hard on herself these past days, laying blame for the smallest things. She had left her mobile phone back in the kitchen; it was not a crime with all the activity, and it was possible to forget.

She dialed. 'Please pick,' she said to the ringing phone on the other end. Her son made a now-familiar disapproving sound. 'Food in just a minute, my love.' She kissed his forehead.

'Hello. Yes, Adel, it's me,' she said, relieved to have caught her. 'I nodded off … I'm so sorry … I …'

'We're right on time and at your door, please,' Adel interrupted. She had been to the cottage twice that week.

The next half hour was spent on compliments, kisses, hugs, making faces at the baby, and any kind of conversation but serious. They darted from one triviality to the other. Adelfa had come with her very handsome twin. For some reason, he had not warmed up to Martha since they were children. Martha personally thought it was because she was so close to his twin. Today, of course, he was putting up his friendliest performance to ensure he did not offend his sister and make things worse for Martha.

'You look pretty worn out,' Adelfa said. She worried about her friend here all alone, but Martha would not hear of coming back to the house with her. 'I think you could use some company, and just before you say no, Achim and I have come to spend the next three days here with you. We would just check in to our rooms, and we will get the evening started.' Martha opened her mouth to protest. She knew they were very busy, but Adelfa's look shut her up.

It was a welcome relief to Martha, though she did not say so out loud. She had begun to wonder how much longer she could hold on to sanity with the way her mind had been veering off on dangerous tangents.

The next three days went by so quickly that the trio might have sworn that only twelve hours alone were unjustly apportioned to each of the days. Adelfa busied herself with the baby to allow Martha some time off. Martha found herself very distracted from the thoughts that had seemed to take her over. Achim was always trying to distract her and make her have a good time. She allowed herself to notice him as a man for the first time. She knew he was good-looking, but she had never looked at the whole package or noticed what a good soul he was. She watched him from the corner of her eye each time he took off his shirt. He had a well-defined chest and muscles with smooth lines from all the exercises he did. His hair was dark, and he wore it a bit long, which made him look a bit rakish. His eyes were honey brown, and, in the light, they looked like flowing liquid gold.

Adelfa noticed this strange attraction growing between them and would smile to herself when they were not looking. They were the two most important people in her life, and she had always prayed that they would at least get along. This was a lot more than she could have hoped for. The magic was happening, and they were both allowing themselves to be swept away by the currents.

The day before they were to leave, Adelfa and Achim sat in silence with Martha round the dancing flames of a bonfire. A few paces away, there stood three beings who, though unseen to the human eyes, were the source of a sinister energy that hung in the air around the three friends. All that was in their job description was to doctor their thoughts in certain desired directions. 

The memories were back in Martha's mind. She relived the hurt of betrayal over and over again as if it were a movie and the playback button was being hit by a strange unseen hand. She relived that night and saw each time the angry, almost disgusted look on Sosthenes' handsome face. She saw him push her away from him and leave her out in the night.

It played again.

Her brain suddenly focused on where she was, and she looked at her friends through blurry eyes. There, sitting right in front of her, was this great soul. He had been there all her life, and she had never taken notice until now. One thing she had liked about him all these years, though she had been unwilling to admit it, was that he was a straight, cut-to-the-chase, honest person. Now he sat in front of her. If only, she thought. He could still be the future, though … if only.

Achim tried hard to clear his mind; he had always wanted adventure. He remembered how he often daydreamed of swooping down on the enemy ranks from the sky, brandishing his own Excalibur. His mission was simple: 'Rescue the warrior princess unbroken ...them both out of there before all hell broke loose.' There was nothing as beautiful in all the world as this crest-fallen beauty. Many times in the past, he had tried to fight down these feelings that had taken a better part of him tonight. He had never wanted to admit that Martha intrigued him. She was six feet tall as well as slender and curvy. Her skin was smooth and olive with a natural tan that set off her dark eyes.

In the last few days they had spent together, she had sometimes unconsciously leaned on his shoulders during the conversation, and he had willingly donated them for the noble cause of possible rescue. Thoughts of her filled his mind. He wanted to say something, but a knot formed in his throat every time. 'Would you let me be the shoulder you need, my darling?' he asked, but sadly, the words never escaped his lips.

The waft of the night breeze brought the scent of her silky hair that he had stroked once when she buried her face in his massive shoulders and cried her eyes out. He had felt as helpless then as he did now. Passion for her coursed through his body, and he yearned to be able to touch her in ways he had only imagined. He kept his hands to himself and continued to brood into the fire; some things were easier thought than done.

Another nagging question on his mind was this child of hers. He did not mind adopting him as his own son; he was a beautiful boy. However, he feared she would always look upon the child as a reminder of the sorrow, betrayal, and rejection she had felt when his conception had come to light. He would always be a symbol of the fickleness of one man's love that could work against him. Would she ever be able to love and trust with the reckless abandon she did once? He raked his hands through his hair as he pondered answers to his questions.

Adelfa sat and watched the two people she loved the most in all the world. They were all she had left after she and her brother had lost their parents in a plane crash two years ago. Her twin brother had been devastated and she, the older of the twins, was torn between devastation and growing up in a matter of days. Achim pulled his weight, but she was the coordinating force behind the two. Their parents' death had awoken them to their responsibilities, and, so far, they had carried them well.

She watched quietly as they both fought hard against what they felt: fire in their eyes and weapons in their hearts to stave off their feelings. The silence was healing therapy, but if someone did not speak soon, it would get a bit awkward.

She took solace in her memories of the two. When they were much younger, Martha would chatter all over their living room, telling stories of how they would travel the world together, sailing the seven seas to rescue their princes, buy them amour, and set them atop white steeds so they could watch them gallop off into the sunset in search of valiant deeds. Achim would mockingly say to her, 'It's the other way round, dummy.'

She would retort with her hands on her hips and say something like, 'Why don't you shut your face until I finish my story?' Achim would usually pounce, and they would be on each other's necks. Adelfa did not remember him ever winning a fight with Martha.

'The stars tonight speak only good things to me concerning you, Martha.' He spoke as though he was going to read her fortune, which they pretended to do for fun sometimes, but he did not look at her as he spoke.

'Ah, most noble Achim, would you mind sharing their thoughts with us?' Martha answered, mimicking his style of speech. Her eyes were shining with mischief as she did so. 

With the seriousness of a sage, Achim's eyes panned down from stargazingand then to watch her eyes as she strained to see him from across brightly glowing embers. 'They speak on matters of choice. They point to doors that can only be opened by faith in the future.' He paused.

'The future waits,' he continued. 'Some choices cannot be remade. Some doors can only be opened once, and other doors change with time and space, leading to a thousand different places at different moments in time.' 

Adelfa had found her voice: 'I hear the night breezes speak with their husky voice from the soul of the earth.Together, they echo the voice of reason.' She too paused. 'Martha, we have watched you the last few days as you have mourned your mistakes. The muses bid me tell you that your past will not forgive you if you mourn for too long. You must take hold of your life once more and drive it like you once taught me to.' She knew her friend was deep in thought.

'Come with us to Athens,' Achim said with all the courage he could muster. 'There, we can dream again. I can't imagine leaving you out here with your thoughts and fears clawing at you from all sides.'

He realized that he had to let her know what was on his mind and had been in his heart. His heart pounded in his ears. Sweat broke on his palm, but he calmed himself. No girl had ever made him break a sweat, and it struck him as ironic that it was his childhood archenemy.

'I have often scoffed at the idea of love, but now that it's happening to me, I can't help it,' he said sorrowfully. From the corner of his eyes, he could see his sister trying hard to stifle laughter. He ignored her and continued, 'I know this is probably not the best time for this, but I need you to know that I have come to care for you a great deal. Adelfa and I will stop at nothing to bring you back to the person you have always been, though we could do without your hard head.'

Martha chuckled, her eyes brimming with tears. 'Thank you for being so kind, Achim. You know you have always been a friend, and I have always admired you. You have the kindest heart and are always ready with a helping hand. I am only sorry I refused to see what was always right in front of me.'

'Sweetie, please come back with us to Athens,' Adelfa offered. 'I'm so sure Mom and Papa will be glad and relieved to have you back. They love you so much, you know,' she added with a sad smile.

'They don't love me, at least not in the unconditional way parents should love their child,' Martha said bitterly. 'They live their lives in their unreal world of fame and fortune.'Rising to her feet, her voice shook with each realization of her newfound distaste for their lifestyle. 'All they ever care about is their reputation and pride. I detest them and what they tried to do to me, and I don't want you to ever try to defend their actions. They didn't do it for my good, as they claimed; it was to protect their reputation. It was seeking for love and approval they gave so sparingly that made me fall for that rogue!' Shaking violently, she burst into tears and let it all out—the anger, fear, betrayal, rejection, and hopelessness she had felt. She staggered, and her friends rushed to her aid. Achim crushed her in his arms.

'It's okay to cry. You'd be fine in no time,' said Achim.

Martha opened her eyes and looked at him with a desolation she had never allowed anyone to glimpse. 'That's all I have heard in the last year. Guess what? It hasn't gotten any better.' She shut her eyes. 'Oh, that this too solid flesh would melt away!'

'Yeah, go ahead. Melt into my brother's arms. You have my blessing,' quipped Adelfa, attempting to lighten the charged atmosphere.

Achim tried to get Martha back on her feet. 'Can you please give me a hand and quit trying to be funny?' Adelfa complied and joined him. They helped her back into the house.

Martha quickly regained her strength and composure in the house. Achim made some coffee and handed her a mug; she sat back and sipped quietly. The throbbing headache at her temple was a tell-tale sign of her emotional strain, but she felt a lot better. Maybe things were not going to be so bad after all.

Adelfa came into her room carrying the baby. 'Things are not as bad as they seem.' She smiled at the infant who smiled back and kicked his tiny legs in the air. 'Things are not bad at all.' She walked up to the baby's crib and gently tucked him in. 'I'll be watching you from over there.' She smiled at him and pointed to where Martha sat on the bed of polished mahogany. She walked to where Martha sat, and after stroking her hair for a few seconds, she sat down beside her best friend.

Martha studied her friend with weary eyes. 'I know what it is you are going to say, and the answer is no. I'm not going back with you to Athens. That city is filled with people I hate.'

'Hate is a strong word, you know. Fine, they mistreated you, and yes, you are angry, but don't let that get in your way. It's not big enough to have you sacrifice all your dreams.' Adelfa knew she was appealing to the fighter in Martha and tried to break down her reasons to stay back as quickly as possible. 'Athens holds a chance of a good education that could give you the strong and independent lifestyle you have always craved. Your parents love you and are willing to take you back, on their own terms, of course.Still, it's better with them than alone. My sister, my friend, please call and talk to them. Would you do that and let me know what you all decide?' Adelfa knew that she had a strong persuasive tongue where Martha was concerned. Her work done, she hugged Martha and left the room.

That night, before he slept, Achim came to talk to her and speak of what they felt for each other. She told him that she felt the same about him, but she needed to sort herself out before she would be willing to pursue those feelings. He felt reassured after their talk and promised to be patient with her.

Morning came swiftly with gloom in the air. They all had a good time, and for Martha, it would be hard going back to the quiet after all the fun and laughter of the last few days. She thanked them both, and Adelfa made her promise to call her parents and start thinking of a fresh start.

With everyone gone, Martha felt as though she had a zest for life that had been missing. It dawned on her that if she went back home, things could get back to normal, and as she harbored these thoughts, she found that she was a little homesick. Maybe there could be good times again. It was a new day that dawned with hope.

Or was it?

Martha completed her chores in no time; she was getting the hang of this single-mum routine. She decided that she would call and talk things over with her mom and take it from there. She would deal with it however it turned out; the worst had already happened.

Her hands trembled as she picked up the receiver. Her mom could be very class-conscious and high-handed when it suited her, and she hoped this would not be one of those days. Her fingers were sweaty as she dialed the numbers and waited for the phone to ring.

'Hello and good morning. Please may I know who is on the line?' said the sweet, musical voice she had known all her life. She sometimes laughed at the hypocrisy of her mom always trying to give a good impression even when things were not as they should be. However, her mom was the sort of person who was kind enough to protect fiercely whoever and whatever belonged to her. Martha and her little sister, Sophia, had enjoyed that protection as long as they both remained Mommy's little girls.

'Hello, and who is this, please?' Her voice came over the line again. Martha fumbled for words, but none came. She knew she had to say something before she dropped the phone.

'H-h-h-hello,' she stammered and then gave herself a mental nudge. 'It's been a while, Mom,' she finally managed in a muffled voice.

'Good heavens! Martha! Where on earth are you? Martha! Oh goodness! We have been so worried … It isn't fair how you've treated everyone who loves you. Lord! Where on earth have you been!'

'That's quite alright, Mom. Please don't be that way. I'm in Oropos,' she managed. 'I wanted you to know.'

'What are you doing there? Never mind that I'm just happy to know where you are; we almost believed the worst.' Her voice broke, and she hesitated to ask her next question. Martha knew her mom. She was nervous, but she knew she probably deserved whatever verdict would be or had been decided by her parents. Her mom went on, 'Did you, ah … well, I'll just ask: Have you put to bed? Is the baby okay? Or did you terminate the pregnancy?'

You are still so mean, Martha thought, but she answered, 'Your grandchild is doing great! He is very healthy and beautiful to look at.' Her tone was defiant.

'Thank goodness,' her mother sighed and then paused again. Her daughter did not understand, but she had ached for her, imagining what could have happened to a young girl trying to terminate a pregnancy or have a baby on her own. 'Khrisomou, you have been through a lot, but you know things sometimes have to be set right before all can be well.'

'I know where you are going on that one, Mom. I realize I made a mistake with my life, but I would not sacrifice the life of another just to be comfortable. I will face my mistakes. Perhaps God will forgive my wrongs. I can't imagine that you and Papa really did think I would let any harm come to my child. His name is Seth, by the way. He represents a second chance in my life and is all the good left from what was destroyed.' She bit hard on her lower lip. She wasn't quite sure she was saying the right things, but she kept going anyway.

'I called you because I have offended you and Papa, but I also think that I deserve forgiveness. It is human to err; my son has done nothing to be looked upon as a plague.' Martha sank into the chair overcome with despair. She let out a breath she did not know she had been holding. Baby Seth started to cry almost as though he could sense his mother's distress.

Unseen, the lord of darkness leaned his massive shoulders on the door and watched. Children were known to pick up negative emotions from infancy. Such a situation would not be good for the plan.

Her mother waited to reply. 'Look at it from your father's perspective. He might not show it so often, but he loves you very much and had great plans for your future. You are the one he has always made elaborate plans for. Imagine his pain and disappointment when he discovered that the one he had invested so much in had chosen to throw it in his face for a love that wasn't even worthy! What would you do in his shoes? Or what about a mother who abandoned the career she had always wanted to invest in her daughters? She planned that they would become all she couldn't and strived hard to instill in them values that would make this reality, but one of them just refused her sacrifice. She walked away from everyone she should trust.'

Tears. Tears. More tears.

'Martha, dear,' her mother continued. 'I may not be able to do much for you if you insist on having your own way. Your dad and I still love you despite your choices, but your father has given his verdict that leaves me with no choice.'

'So what's your verdict, Mama? Do you ever say or do anything for yourself other than be Dad's puppet? There is one point that you are forgetting. Papa is a man who has no idea what it is to carry a child inside of you and have it ripped out of you,' cried Martha.

'I have no verdict, paidimou, but a suggestion, and that would be foster care. The bills will be paid by me. You could hire a nurse whose sole responsibility it would be to take good care of the boy within the comfortable premises we will provide. Look, dear,every problem can be solved if we so choose; the only thing is we must be reasonable.'

Martha had had it with the discussion, and it seemed to be going nowhere. She wanted to tell her mother to stay away from her and little Seth, but on second thought, a part of her seemed to be considering the foster care option. This made her feel very irresponsible, and she said, 'Mother dearest, with due respect, I am not going to consider my precious son a problem or a clog in the wheel of my dreams. Neither am I going to abrogate my responsibilities as a mother.' She sucked in a long breath, half-hoping her mom would interrupt her outrage. She had a difficult time trying to pacify Seth, so at this time, she was feeding him a bottle of breast milk she had expressed earlier in the day. She figured her mom was not about to speak anytime soon, so she continued. 'My son is beautiful; he is all the love that I need, and I would rather be disowned a thousand times than to part with my precious gift.'

'My Martha, please forget that this ever happened,' her mom pleaded. She was usually patient with her, but Martha could hear the rising chagrin in her voice. Her mother could be as ruthless as she could be sweet. 'That baby of yours is standing between you and everything good we have worked for and planned out for you. Don't throw your life away. The bastard child also stands in the way of all we have ever hoped to get out of your father's political career!' The woman had clearly lost her calm. Her voice quivered as she continued more cautiously this time; she tried one final time to appeal to her sense of family loyalty. 'It will ruin our social status and give our enemies something to bite. The ball is in your court; think about it. Martha, think and make your decision. We'll be waiting. If you will excuse me, at the moment, I have some pressing matters to attend to. I miss you, khrisomou, and Papa does too. I have to go. Goodbye.'

'Bye, Mom,' Martha replied, obviously shaken. She knew her parents felt strongly about the child, but she never imagined they would consider their own grandchild a bastard. This was what she had feared from outsiders, but from her family, it was too much to take in. She knew she needed a plan, but she did not know what it would be. All she knew was that no one was going to call her son a bastard … not ever. 'But what do I do?' she asked aloud helplessly. The empty echo of her words scared her because she realized she had no idea.

It was past midday, and the weather was very good. It was still quite sunny in Oropos at this time of the year. Tourists came in droves from every part of the world to study and marvel at the rich Greek culture, language, civilization, myths, and scenery.

Seth was sleeping soundly while she watched him, adoring his innocence. He will be a man of peace, Martha thought to herself. While she watched, the heavens watched. The other sinister beings also watched with eyes aflame with dread. Her decisions would determine their fate.

In the past few days, her life had been characterized by silence, and the silence was getting louder. The best way she knew to shut out the noise in her soul was to listen to the sound of nature—of rushing water smashing against rocks just behind the cottage house—and to follow the music of the numerous bird species chattering along the entire woodlands to the green river: larks, swallows, thrushes, finches, pipits, and jays of all colors.

Time lapsed. Guilt faded. Concerns grew.

For the child's mother, the concerns were how she would cater to all the child's needs, young and inexperienced as she was.

If she were ever going to give up the child, it would only be because she would want to give him a decent upbringing, and it would have to be something that shielded him from the taunts and bullying of the circumstances surrounding his birth. She would shield him from the world. Yes, from the witching beauties of Greece and the entire world. He would live pure of all the guilt that she now carried.

The Dark Angel smiled. At last, we are getting somewhere with the thinking.

All this time, as she sat gazing out into the forest all around her from the back porch, he had been breeding these thoughts in her mind and gently guiding her to his plan.

A light leaped into her eyes from the development of these new thoughts. She had figured out a plan. A monastery would be most appropriate a place to start; she would make sure her baby was sheltered. Her mind was made up, and with excitement welling up inside her, she quickly snatched up the receiver and punched out some numbers. She went ahead to narrate the plan to her close friend, Adelfa, who volunteered her services for the logistics of the trip.

After she had made the call, she sat for a while and pondered. Deep inside, there still remained a nagging thought. Am I sure I'm doing the right thing?

She reasoned that it was the safest and most practical plan she could come up with. It would solve the problem of trying to protect her son from any stigma. She had resolved to follow every stage of his growth, and at the appropriate time, she would reveal herself to him as his mother.

*******************************

The next morning, she was up early again after a less-than-restful night. She had twisted and turned all night in bed, nervous about the decision she had made. Seth seemed to have understood the turmoil within his mother and had rested peacefully to allow her time with her thoughts.

The last few nights had been riddled with nightmares. It always seemed as though she was in a future time with creatures that she did not recognize, the sort she had only read about in adventure books or seen in sci-fi movies of space battles with aliens. The one bother was that the lead character in these dreams always seemed to be Sosthenes, the father of her son, but there was something different about him. He looked like he was from another world.

She brushed those thoughts aside as quickly as they had come. Sosthenes had no right to trouble her dreams, and she was not going to waste her time thinking about him. She had other more pressing worries.

She went outside. The morning air filled her lungs with freshness and hope, and the birdsong of a lark somewhere in the trees revived her spirit. As the sun chased away the edges of the darkness of the night, she also felt as if the dark edges of her life were being rubbed away to give way for the light. God will take my son; he will become a great man loved by God. She felt like the barren woman who long ago had given a son to God, and he had become great. However, she was not barren, and she still did not know any priest. It was a beautiful dawn, and she knew she would miss this place when she was gone. She would miss the healing it had brought to her life.

She had already made a list of possible monasteries, but she had a problem that kept her mind working for a solution while she waited for Adelfa. She wanted to see where her son would be living, and the only way she could think of was to disguise herself as did Aliki Diplarakou, the first Greek beauty pageant contestant to win the coveted Miss Europe title.In the 1950s, Aliki disguised herself as a man to enter Mount Athos, the Holy Mountain. The Holy Mountain housed about twenty monasteries, and women were prohibited to enable the monks to live out their lives of sworn celibacy with ease. The monks felt that the presence of women altered the spiritual environment, making it slow for one to attain spiritual enlightenment that in fact created a limit to the height of a monk's spiritual attendance.

Mount Athos was out of the question because it was much too far and inaccessible. It had to be a monastery close to Oropos, so she could come around once in a while to seek out her son—discreetly, of course—just to make sure he was doing fine. After an hour-and-a-half of brainstorming and knocking out options, she decided on one that was close and would appropriately suit her needs, Saint Paraclete Orthodox Monastery in Oropos.

At about six the next morning, Adelfa arrived with Achim in a Land Rover. The spirit of adventure in the air was colored by the heaviness of the task ahead. They tried to smile, and there were hugs and kisses between the three. Adelfa was particularly surprised at her friend's outfit; she wore a man's shirt and a pair of tight black jeans with brown knee-length boots. Her hair was tightly packed into a brown scarf. Most fascinating was the black-hooded robe she carried that was sure to completely disguise her feminine features. Achim teased her, saying she looked more like an assassin on a Mission Impossible flick. He had been withdrawn but was still very friendly; he understood that he couldn't afford to be a distraction on this mission.

The three quickly decided on their plans and headed out with the baby.

It was a beautiful morning; for Martha, there could be nothing as exhilarating as driving into the morning with the birds wildly singing. Oropos boasted every kind of flora and fauna, with mountains and trees panning out to the Aegean Sea. As the trio drove through ChorisOnoma across Riga Feraiou and headed towards the monastery, there were wildflowers on both sides: anemones, yellow daisies, daffodils, and blood-red poppies. The mountains were ahead, and rather than look foreboding in the distance, the monastery looked inviting. It invited them to adventure and conquest. Martha had not felt so alive in a long while.

Along the way, there was a change of plans, and it was decided that Achim would be the one to deliver the baby up to the gate since it might be possible to recognize Martha's gait as being feminine, which could cause some trouble. Achim, as he was dressed casually, could be taken for a tourist hoping to catch a glimpse of the reclusive monks. Seth was snugly tucked in a basket. While they waited for the child to fall asleep and for the coast to be clear, Martha could not help but think of the baby Moses whose mother had to set him afloat down the crocodile-infested Nile River. It made her shiver to imagine all that could have gone wrong. 'God is with you, my child,' she prayed. Adelfa squeezed her shoulders gently.

It was time. Achim had to do some walking because they had parked off the road to avoid suspicion. It looked like he was carrying a basket of fruit and was just out to find a good spot for a picnic. As he walked, his heart pounded harder than it had ever done in his entire life. He said a prayer for the precious bundle he bore who had no idea how his life was to change.

Achim had walked past the corner and made the bend while Adelfa and Martha sat in the car, awaiting his successful return. Adelfa kept her engaged in positive conversation of how well things would turn out from then on and that she could come and run her business with her. But her thoughts were far traveled to a place where only her and baby Seth had been. Adelfa's words were eclipsed by the bright smile from her baby boy, his perfect and innocent smiles and giggles, which brought a smile to Martha's face, quickly followed by a tear. Suddenly, she came down from the back seat like one wearing a garment of regret, not knowing how to contain herself. Adelfa alighted from the car and walked to her. 'Martha, you know you are not in this alone. We are in it together,' said Adelfa. With fingers in her teeth and eyes dripping tears, Martha turned to Adelfa, whose arms were already hanging on her shoulders.

'Did I do the right thing? Did I just give away my son for nothing?' Martha shrunk in Adelfa's arms.

'He's going to be alright; I know it,' replied Adelfa.

'How do you know when I don't? How?' Martha asked.

Adelfa placed her head on her shoulder and said, 'I don't know how, but I just know that he's going be alright.' There was still uncertainty in her eyes.