“Of course you will,” and with a zing she was gone. And a strange amulet was now hanging from the handles of the amphora. The oracle stayed on the ground, muttering in tongues again. She then stood up, brushed off her now wine-stained robe and looked at Agathon skeptically.
“So…you’re going to teach me?”Agathon asked inquisitivley.
“If my mother Hera proclaims me to do so, I must as she wishes,” said Antheia loyally. “But I can’t believe she made me teach a male.” Agathon was not sure how to respond to this. Instead, he looked at the amulet on the amphora.
“Don’t touch that! It’s from Hera. It belongs in the temple.” Antheia screeched shrilly. Agathon backed up, hands in fron of his chest saying he was innocent. Antheia gingerly grasped the chain of the amulet and tugged it free. She read aloud the language of the gods that Agathon could not understand. She dropped to her knees, looked up at the sapphire blue sky, prayed in tongues once again and then rose.
“I am to take you.”
“Take me where?”