By Jane Ellen Harrison
Ancient paintings and Ritual is a short review of dance and artwork in old Greece.
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Extra resources for Ancient art and ritual
His voice was quiet again, that low, calm before the storm quiet. He looked down at me, and I could almost feel the scales in his gaze—the weight of the decision in his eyes made me want to back up, but I couldn't. His hand on my neck, however gentle, held me in place. "I let you keep her," he whispered. "You flaunt my laws, Hermit, yet I still granted you your companion. " His hand loosened and his fingers drew circles on the back of my neck. A shiver I couldn't suppress ran down my spine, and Tatius smiled.
If I hit something, it would break. So I stood there, perfectly still, perfectly empty. The mask slipped from Nathanial's expression as his eyes warmed. One edge of his lips quirked like I'd amused him. What, had he expected me to have an outburst? Probably. But I wasn't going to. Not this time. "I've hunted. " Nathanial stepped closer and moved into my space, filled it. He wasn't a big man, but his presence, maybe even his power, closed around me. His fingers traced the edge of my face as he studied me, and my pulse quickened.
Balling my hand into a fist, I slammed it into his elbow joint. He rounded on me, drawing me higher until the toes of my sneakers trailed along the carpet. "That's twice you've struck me," he said bringing our faces close enough I could have bitten his nose—if I could have moved my head. "Ever strike me again, and I will hit back. " He opened his hand, letting my jaw slip between his fingers. The release came so unexpectedly, I dropped, landing in a clumsy crouch. My hands flew to my face, and I didn't bother not rubbing my aching jaw this time.