“Wow.” There they were, the three highest peaks of Olympus: Skala, Skolio, and Mytikas. The mists swirled thicker now, like the ghosts of the Olympians themselves. Time evaporated for a long, tranquil moment, evoking visions of an ancient civilization and supernatural beings whose spirits lived in their descendants, the modern demigods. Her skin prickled at the thought of them. She was sure she’d never met one. Although most lived among humans as regular civilians, their immortal nature was distinct, unmistakable, as was their physical beauty. They often held positions of power in private industry and government. Overall, they enjoyed a fearsome reputation.
Even at her present altitude, she saw that Mytikas was the most jagged and dangerous of the three peaks. She could see people standing on the top of it and felt a strong tug of longing. Her fear of heights kept her away from mountain climbing classes and most activities involving heights. But she’d accepted her limits.
The breeze up here was stronger, prying loose a lock of hair from her ponytail. The air was thinner too. She made her way to the eastern side of the courtyard and took in the sparkling sea, visible through the horseshoe opening of the range. Many people stopped their journey here and stayed the night. The refuge offered decent amenities and food, plus stunning sunset and sunrise views.
They had lunch and those who would be going on to the summit rested for about an hour. She caught sight of Jim as he picked up his walking sticks. She crossed the short distance to him and he smiled. “Well, good luck and be safe,” she said.
“Thanks. Too bad you can’t come.”
“Yeah, but that’s okay.” She gestured at the summit. “This is a really good spot and I’ve got my binoculars.”
His eyes crinkled with amusement. “Don’t miss sunrise.”
“I won’t.”
His gaze lingered on her face, prompting heat to her cheeks once more. Though she didn’t feel particularly attracted to him, she always blushed when a man looked at her with interest.
“I guess I’ll see you in town tomorrow,” Jim said with an expectant note in his voice. His group would descend from a different trail the following day.
“Yes. Enjoy the hike.” Vicky discreetly closed the subject so as not to get his hopes up. She watched as half the group walked back across the path, then she turned and went into the refuge and ordered Greek coffee.
Chapter Three
The following day, they returned to Litohoro, the village at the foothills of the mountain, where their journey first began. They would be staying the night and the schedule was open, allowing the members to enjoy the town as they pleased.
Vicky had returned to the hotel to shower and change into a white sleeveless dress that fell halfway down her thighs. September in Greece was usually quite warm and the late afternoon sun was a soothing caress on her skin. Despite the hike—eight hours in all—she’d spent most of it under shady trees.
She felt a pang of guilt for avoiding Jim, but she wanted to explore the quaint village her way, to talk to the locals, shop at her leisure, and wander about without the need to entertain someone’s company. At one of the tourist shops, she bought souvenirs for herself, Mom, and Kay, while practicing the basic Greek she knew. In her opinion, it was unacceptable to visit a foreign country without some grasp of the native language. Before the trip, she’d bought a Greek conversation guide book that came with a CD and she’d learned several common words and sentences. She browsed a while longer and decided to have one last coffee for the day. Taking a seat at a quiet corner cafe, she ordered a cappuccino and couldn’t resist the baklava, a delicate phyllo pastry filled with chopped nuts and honey.
“Efharisto poli,” the waiter said as she handed him several Euro dollars that included a generous tip.
“Parakalo.” She returned his smile and slipped her wallet back into her handbag. She was about to close it when something at the bottom caught her eye. She reached in and pulled out a clear little tube. It looked like a perfume sample. Vicky’s brows came together as she tried to remember when she’d received this. Not recently, for sure.
She rolled it between her fingers and read the black writing on the tube. Drink Me. She raised an eyebrow, finding it an odd name for a perfume. Unless…hmm. She removed the cap and gasped as a sudden, cool wind swept over her, sending a shockwave of shivers through her body. Startled, she looked around for the source. Her napkin was no longer on the table and the wind rustled the plants in their ceramic pots. Then, it just died. Strange. Maybe someone pissed Zeus off, she thought with a chuckle.
She looked at the tube again, tentatively sniffed the contents and crinkled her nose. It didn’t smell like anything. She closed the cap and looked at the name again. Did it literally mean drink it? She had no clue how it had gotten in her bag so she wasn’t going to do that. The rational part of her brain told her to toss it into a bin, but there was an odd urge to hold on to it. Vicky got up and started back to the hotel.