The War God's Woman 2

7. The Satyr

Sage woke up, her neck and legs stiff from sleeping in a chair. She looked around – confused for a moment. Until she remembered that she was in Farrer's workshop. She craned her head and saw him over at one of the work stations, bent over a small, mechanical device. He hadn't noticed her look up yet and Sage silently watched him work, not wanting to break his focus.

He was such a large, muscular man that it seemed odd to see him working on something so delicate. The device was no bigger than a fingernail. Sage sighed, feeling oddly settled. As Farrer worked, he seemed to breathe out an aura of calm and that calmness spread to her. Blinking sleepily, she continued to watch him.

"The streets should be safe now." Hephaestus spoke, without looking up.

"Oh..." Sage took a moment to shake out of her stupor. "Right." Yes, she needed to get going. She needed to check that the others were ok. She didn't know if the violence had reached the café. And Ezekiel was her main concern. Had the Mad Dog survived the killings? (Or was he the one behind them?) 

She got to her feet and her knees clicked. Hobbling slightly, she went to the side and grabbed her jacket. Sage paused, coat in hand, and her gaze rested on the device that Farrer was making. Fear gnawed at her insides. Why was she trusting this man? She knew nothing about him, only that -

"Why does your brother want to kill you?" She blurted out suddenly.

Hephaestus set down his tools and turned to face her, looking perfectly unworried.

"You've had another vision?" He guessed, picking up on the shift in her tone. Sage shook her head but her expression was guarded. 

"No. But..."

"But?"

"No mortal can breathe life into metal." She gestured to the small device on the table. The little chip was moving like a metallic critter, exploring the table. "You're an immortal, aren't you?"

Hephaestus leant against the table, relaxed.

"I'm a satyr." He lied. "A spell disguises my goat legs. But not very well." He patted his limp. Sage nodded thoughtfully, though in truth she'd never heard of a satyr before. "You're nervous." He observed, clocking how Sage was edging away. "You asked me why my brother wants me dead. Perhaps you're worried that I'm 'the bad brother'?"

"No. I just... just realised that I don't know you very well... Is your brother a satyr too?"

"Yes, obviously." He smiled. "You've been sleeping here for hours. And I haven't hurt you." He pointed out. Sage nodded, that was true. But she still felt a little uneasy. Smiling, Hephaestus gestured to the door. "Go now. The streets are quiet and your family and friends will be worried about you."

Sage struggled with the garage door and Hephaestus had to help her. She hesitated before leaving.

"I won't tell anyone, about your secret."

"Thank you."

Still, she hesitated. Feeling guilty.

"Thank you for letting me stay here."

              Sage left quickly, anxious to get back to the café and check that everyone was alright. Her stomach churned uncomfortably, as she passed shops with broken windows. But, same as before, the café remained untouched – though either side had been looted. Jaz spotted her through the window as she approached and he ran out to meet her.