Ligeia was hunched over Zenais. Ligeia’s shoulders were shaking; none of Zenais was moving at all. Kosmas fell so heavily that Polymnia imagined she heard his knee bones cracking. She wasn’t looking at him, though, nor at the others. She was watching Asterion, who was crawling behind the row of jars. His head was down, and the tips of his horns were drawing lazy sparks from the altar’s stone. A long time later, Kosmas said, “We’ll have to do something with her body.” His voice shook a bit. Polymnia shifted her gaze in time to see Ligeia drag a hand under her nose. She was bubbling and sniffling, holding Zenais’s wrist in her other hand. Yes, Polymnia thought. Be sad. “The bridge,” Ligeia said. Somehow her voice didn’t shake. “We should throw her over. We have to.” “Yes,” Kosmas said. “But we can’t send her to Hades like this.” When he put his hands on the remains of Zenais’s robe, the cloth fell away.
