She decided to try a different angle. “I also don’t remember any male maenads in the legends, either. I thought maenads were all female.”
“We are.”
Talisa glanced up at the nymph and waited.
“Zagreus didn’t explain it to you?” she asked with a lift of her brows.
Zagreus hadn’t explained shit to her. But Talisa refrained from saying so.
“The males are silens,” Nysa finally said.
“Silens,” Talisa muttered. “Really?” She’d thought them a myth, too. “They’re related to the satyrs, aren’t they?”
The nymph nodded. “A subrace of satyrs, you could say. Peaceful creatures instead of aggressive, like traditional satyrs. Their affinity is for harmony, peace, and pleasure.”
“But they don’t look like satyrs.” They looked like Argoleans. Like humans.
The nymph smirked again. “Usually. In the throes of a frenzy, however, their animalistic natures become quite evident.”
Talisa had no idea what that meant, but as the nymph continued to brush her hair, she remembered everything she’d ever learned about the god Dionysus.
Dionysus was Zeus’s son. The god of wine, fertility, ritual madness, and ecstasy. Initially, Zeus had planned to make Dionysus his heir; to turn over rule of the heavens to him when Zeus was ready to step aside. But Dionysus had turned out to be a bit of a wild card. His appetites grew greater than those of the other gods. So great, he soon began to represent everything chaotic, dangerous, and unexpected in the immortal world.
Dionysus had been forced to the fringes of society, blacklisted by Hera and the other Olympians. There, Zeus built Ehrendia for Dionysus. And there, Dionysus taught his followers, the maenads, how to let go of societal norms and release their inhibitions. According to the stories, every time they did, every time they worshipped him in a state of ecstatic frenzy brought on by dancing, intoxication, and even orgies, his powers grew. Grew so great, some said he would become stronger than Zeus on his own without any help from the King of the Gods.
Until he crossed Hera again, and Zeus’s vengeful wife banished him to the edge of the cosmos, blocking him from ever returning to the human realm and Olympus.
Talisa’s pulse picked up speed. Her skin grew hot. Images of that dream—had it been a dream?—of Zagreus and the things she’d watched him do filled her mind all over again.
Zagreus was Hades’s son. The Prince of Darkness. A minor god who enjoyed torture and pain, not pleasure and ecstasy.
So what in the name of the Fates was Zagreus doing with a group of maenads and their lovers? And why the hell couldn’t Talisa stop thinking about him naked and wet in that bath?
“Wait a minute.” Talisa’s thoughts came to a whirring stop as she looked up at the nymph. “You don’t think…? I mean, your people don’t actually believe Zagreus is Dionysus, do you?”
The nymph smiled down at her then went back to combing the last of the tangles from Talisa’s hair. “Do you know how Zagreus came to be here?”
“No.” Skata, they really did think Zagreus was Dionysus back from his banishment. The Prince of Darkness had completely fooled these simple creatures.
“We lived in peace for thousands of years. Few knew our valley existed. The mountains provided coverage from our natural enemies. Then a few years ago, one of our residents was out on a supply run. She was attacked by a group of satyrs on the border of our lands. She managed to escape, but her injuries were fatal. She died shortly thereafter. From that point on, we were inundated with attacks. The satyrs are ruthless. When they set their sights on someone or something, they don’t stop until they have what they want.”
Talisa knew that. The history books in Argolea all described in great detail the satyrs’ savagery when Zagreus had joined forces with his father Hades and attacked the capitol city of Tiyrns just before Talisa’s birth. “What happened?”
“We were very nearly eradicated. Then, out of nowhere, Zagreus arrived. He’d been searching for someone. When he saw what was happening to the people of Ehrendia, he stepped in to help us. He forced the satyrs from our lands and used his powers to camouflage our borders. He saved us from annihilation. Since then, the satyrs haven’t been able to find us. They pop up on our borders now and then, but they can’t get through our defenses.”
That didn’t sound like the Zagreus Talisa knew. Not the Zagreus who’d commanded his own army of satyrs and attacked her people. Definitely not the Zagreus who’d built an underground lair in the Yucatan best known for its twisted methods of torture and pain.
“Where were the silens during all this?” Talisa asked.
“Hiding. Unqualified to fight the brutal satyrs.” Nysa began pulling the hair back from Talisa’s face and twisting it in some kind of half-up, half-down style. “Zagreus has been training them since. He taught them how to defend themselves and the perimeter of our lands. The two you saw at the door a few minutes ago were sentries.”
That sounded even less like the Zagreus Talisa knew. “And what does he expect in return?”
He had to expect something. The Prince of Darkness never did anything unless it was to his great benefit.
“Nothing.”
“What?”
The door pushed open before Nysa could answer, and Ana, the nymph who’d cold-cocked Talisa last night, stepped into the room holding a tray of food.
Talisa tensed.
Ana barely spared her a glance as she crossed the room and set the tray on the table near the chair by the fireplace. “Nysa, Helia requested your help downstairs.”
Nysa dropped her hands from Talisa’s hair and stepped back from the bed. “You’re finished. I left a gown for you in the washroom.”
Nysa set the brush on a low table against the wall, then with one glance at Ana, left the tower.
Talisa wasn’t thrilled with the interruption. She wanted more information from Nysa. But as the door closed after her and silence stretched across the space, Talisa’s focus shifted to Ana coming toward her, her muscles ready if the female was here to finish what she’d started yesterday.
Instead of stopping at Talisa’s side, Ana disappeared into the marble bath. Seconds later, the blonde returned with an armful of light blue fabric.
“I’ll help you dress,” Ana said, careful to avoid eye contact.
Talisa wasn’t sure what had happened between last night and today. Had Zagreus punished the nymph for attacking her? Given the nymphs some kind of order regarding her? The nymphs were suddenly waiting on her like a guest, not treating her as a prisoner as they’d done yesterday.
Talisa didn’t give a rip what Zagreus had ordered or why. She wasn’t a gown kind of girl. And she was already antagonized.
“I’d rather have the clothing I was wearing yesterday.”
“The prince left orders you’re to wear this or nothing. The choice is yours.”
The nymph still wouldn’t look at her, and Talisa’s temper kicked up as the seconds stretched between them.
She was not at all happy with the prince or what he had planned, but she was smart enough to know she was at the mercy of those around her. Before Zagreus had left, he’d said she could have free rein of the castle. If she continued to piss off the nymph at her side, the female might leave her locked in this room out of spite. Talisa couldn’t let that happen. With her powers bound, exploring and finding a way to escape was the only chance she now had.