soon enough, Augusta knew the names of a lot more goddesses and had made a lot more friends along the way. The pittance for such a thing was letting them fawn and trail their hands through Lúnasa’s golden locks, all the while Augusta steadily answered more questions here and there about Rome and the life of being a centurion.

  Rome, she explained, was once like this place. Men had been in charge for some time, but there had been many changes before Augusta had left. Women could vote. Women could own property. Women weren’t the shackled livestock they once were, and Augusta hoped things could change here too.

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  How wonderful it was to learn so many names as your first few words of Goidelic. Boann was the young river goddess who’d accosted her about what Lúnasa meant. Macha was the one with the shrill voice. Fuamnach was the resident witch of the dark arts who told Augusta not to worry about anything beyond the outside walls.