Athena watched her employer with barely disguised dislike as he casually desecrated the sanctity of the tribe’s holy place. Not that he noticed of course; Governor Reed was far too engrossed with the relics in his hands. Objects that had sat undisturbed for generations of reverent care and respect were manhandled with all the dignity of a jar of beans. Her fingers were clenched into white-knuckled fists as the historian in her reviled at the shabby treatment. Indeed, she was certain that the only reason the tribe hadn’t immediately punched her employer in the face was more or less the same reason she hadn’t.

She was acutely aware of the watch towers outside the boundaries of the holy site, the keen-eyed sharpshooters within clutching rifles that would make a mockery of even the thickest armour. As much as she wished it were otherwise, Athena doubted very much that even the ferocity and raw power of the Amazonian warrior-women would stand much of a chance against such force. Unable to bear the sight of her employer juggling ancient sculptures like paper-weights any longer, the young woman turned her gaze upon the cluster of tribeswomen who stood a few feet away.

Ordinarily this would be a much more pleasant option than the wiry, pompous figure of Governor Reed. The warrior-women were truly a marvel to behold, magnificent specimens of both form and function. Even the shortest among them stood at nearly seven feet in height, with their tallest members were scraping the higher end of eight. And while they were possessed of an intimidating strength that was visible even without obvious muscle, the tribeswomen were undeniably feminine. Clueless tabloids back in the colonies liked to paint the Amazonians as universally possessing a single body-type amongst them; tall, muscled and slender, like an Olympic sprinter. In reality, their individual physiques were just as varied as the rest of the world. Every style of endomorph, ectomorph and mesomorph could be seen amongst the crowd, each one at their own physical peak.

Sadly, this banquet to the senses was inescapably tainted by the pained look of impotent fury on their faces. They had been exceedingly gracious and dignified in their dealings with the colonies thus-far, to which the Governor had repaid their nobility with exploitation and disrespect. As indignant as she was, Athena knew that her own feelings of dislike towards her employer were ripples in a pond compared to the tidal-wave of loathing visible behind the eyes of those women.

“Well then! What else is there to see around here? Or is this collection of musty old sculptures basically the entire thing?” Governor Reed’s dull, grey eyes swept the temple, his nasally voice quivering the pencil-thin mustache on his upper lip. “Ah!” He spied the archway overgrown by hanging strands of moss and lichen. “What’s through here, hm?”

Reed placed the statuette in his hands back on its plinth without so much as a glance, the careless motion sending the sculpture tumbling to the floor with a gut-wrenching ‘crack’. The tribeswomen reacted at once, stepping forward in anger and indignation before the rattling ‘click’ of dozens of rifles being aimed caused them to restrain their impassioned fury. Athena let out a high pitched sound of frustration, causing her partner to rest his hand comfortingly on her shoulder. He’d been standing quietly at her side, his khaki safari uniform matching her own as he dabbed at the sweat on his brow with a soaking handkerchief.

The moment Reed had stepped through the archway, Athena muttered with a bitter monotone.

“I’m going to kill him. You can’t stop me.”

“Think of the money.” York replied quietly, his own voice resonating with the same tone of distaste.

“Fuck the money; this is bullshit!”

“Did I say money? I meant ‘think of the rifles’.”

Athena grumbled, walking slowly over to the fallen, cracked sculpture on the ground. As she gazed steadily at it, a strange feeling momentarily took hold of her. She was dimly aware subconsciously of York saying he would keep an eye on Reed, but it wasn’t the focus of her attention in that moment. The sculpture of the Amazonian Goddess peered up at Athena, its cold, smooth eyes meeting her own. Time seemed to flex for a moment, the world around the young woman bending and slowing for a heartbeat. In that second of interaction, all conscious thought left Athena’s head and she just stared blankly at the statuette.

A second later, she blinked and crouched down to carefully retrieve the sculpture and place it respectfully back in its proper place. Stepping away from the plinth, Athena turned her attention back to the archway. The Amazonians had moved over to the door, standing in two groups either side of the gap with only the high priestess passing through to the other side.

Beside one of the groups, York was crouched by the archway, his fingers tracing the symbols etched into the wall. Marching over briskly to join him, Athena shot a glance through the arch before bending over to speak to her friend.

“What does it say?”

“Hard to tell exactly; I’m not entirely fluent with the written text yet, but as far as I can tell it more or less states that the inner chamber is forbidden to certain people.”

“Like who?”

“Basically? Males. Also members of the tribe who aren’t part of… something; the ruling council I think. Essentially, the only people allowed to enter are the High Priestess, males who are to be sacrificed to their Goddess, and the Goddess herself.”

“So… I take it you won’t be going inside then?”

York simply scoffed in response.

“Do I look like Reed?”

Athena sighed and tried to peer through the archway, but the thick moss made vision into the darkened chamber impossible. Turning to the nearest of the tribeswomen, a woman she remembered meeting during her first trip to camp, she addressed her in the Amazonian tongue to the best of her ability.

“I do not want to break the customs of your people, but I want to find my leader and take him away from this place. May I enter?”

The woman regarded the question for a moment before turning to her sisters. She relayed the request and there was a brief discussion, after which she turned back to Athena, nodding in affirmation. The historian bowed respectfully and walked through the arch, brushing aside the lichen carefully and taking in the sight of the chamber beyond.

Set in the center of the temple as it was, the walls and roof of the chamber rose in a gradual hemisphere before eventually meeting at a circular hole at the apex, through which light shone. The beam of light lit up much of the central chamber where Reed stood loudly conversing with the High Priestess. The Amazonian woman had positioned herself between the Governor and a thick, thorny bush which lay beyond, tendrils curled around the base of a great tablet etched with holy imagery. Even at this distance, Athena could see great, plump berries on the bush which called to her on an almost instinctual level. Her mouth watered at the mere sight, her stomach growling hungrily as the fruit practically glowed to her sight.

Evidently, Reed was experiencing much the same result.

“This land is under our jurisdiction now young woman, and you will allow me to sample this fruit!”

The Priestess again denied the request, replying that the fruit was meant only for those deserving of it, or to be used during special rituals. However, not knowing the language, it was only so much noise to Governor Reed.

Tearing her gaze away from the mystic pull of the berries, Athena walked as quickly as she could up the steps of the chamber until she was on the row beneath her employer.

“Sir!”

“Ah! Athena, I’m glad you’re here; could you translate for this savage?”

The young woman glowered inwardly, quietly glad that her glasses were reflecting enough light that her expression was largely hidden.

“Of course… sir. But you are needed outside.”

“Well then! I shall be more than happy to leave, as soon as I’ve had a mouthful of these berries! Ask her if she needs reminding about the guards.”

“Wouldn’t it be best, sir, to respect their traditions? There is no need to antagonize them like-” Midway through the sentence, Governor Reed turned and stared haughtily at Athena, pointing a finger at her nose as his eyes narrowed.

“Young woman, I respect your knowledge and ability to communicate with less developed cultures, otherwise you would not be along on this expedition. I do not ask you to toil or labor with the men, I do not ask you to fight off wild beasts or claw precious minerals from the guts of the Earth; all I ask is that you do what I’m paying you quite generously to do! So unless you want to go back to sitting in the dirt with nothing to your name and nobody to converse with but that blundering oaf you drag around with you, I suggest you tell this woman to surrender her fruit!”

There was a tense pause. Athena became acutely aware that the High Priestess had been staring at her ever since she entered the chamber, but it wasn’t an expression of distaste at having yet another intruder in the sacred vault. Indeed, the look on her face was entirely unreadable. A moment later, the tall woman turned and quietly plucked one of the ripe, juicy berries off the bush and thrust it into Reed’s chest. A look of outrage flashed across his features before he noticed the fruit, his whole demeanor changing at once to smug satisfaction.

The two women watched as Reed sank his teeth into the fruit, chewed for a second, and spat the mouthful out in disgust.

“Blech! Ugh… No wonder your people keep this stuff locked away where nobody can get at it; it’s practically poison grown on a stem!” Wiping a fleck of the juice off his cheek, he tossed the partially eaten fruit over his shoulder and turned to leave the chamber. The sole of one polished boot came down and squashed the berry underfoot as he strode out, smearing it along the floor of the chamber.

With the Governor gone, Athena could now see past where he had been to the vast tablet of stone that stood behind the bush, the dim light illuminating its features. The image was beautifully carved into the slab, depicting the temple as it was intended to be used; as a seat for their Goddess. She was a radiant figure, watching over the tribe as they went about their daily lives; some gathering food, others dancing and singing, others prostrating themselves happily before their deity.

After taking in the sight for a few seconds, Athena bowed respectfully to the priestess and offered an apology before turning to follow Reed. Before she could take more than a step however, she felt the hand of the Priestess on her shoulder. Looking back at her, Athena saw an inscrutable smile on the woman’s face, her free hand offering one of the berries to the historian.

“Oh… thank you, are you certain? I don’t need to…” her voice trailed off as the hunger overtook her again, a bead of saliva trickling down her lip as she stared at the fruit. The Priestess placed the fruit in Athena’s palm before striding past her, exiting the chamber at a brisk pace and leaving the young historian standing in the glow of the dais.

There was silence as she looked at the fruit in her hand.

“Well… I mean… it would be rude not to, right?”

Lifting the fruit to her lips, she sniffed at it curiously, the scent whipping her taste buds into a frenzy as it surged through her. It smelled like nothing on Earth. Without another moment’s pause she bit into the soft, yielding berry. Her mind reeled at just how wrong her employer had been… The precious nectar was the single most delicious thing she had ever tasted. The juices flooded her senses and she tore into the rest of it like a starving animal, gobbling the whole thing up in a flash.

Athena’s heart pounded in her chest as she turned on the bush, eyes wide and hunger flaring. All sense of perspective vanished along with her awareness of where she was or what she was doing. Stumbling up the stairs with rabid fervor, she pulled two more of the berries from the bush, tearing into them immediately and devouring them in less time than it took to draw breath. Even as the nectar dripped onto her uniform, she couldn’t spare the time to wipe it away, so busy was she in plucking yet more fruit from its stem.

Her whole body felt like it was glowing, buzzing with the same power she’d felt from the fruit before. She wasn’t consciously aware of the change at first; the hunger was everything. Not even when she went from looking up at the bush from below to looking down on it from above did she register what was happening. Only when she felt the heavy ‘thump’ of the ceiling colliding with her skull did she snap out of her trance and take note of herself.

She was growing. Fast.

Not just her, but her clothes, her glasses, even the fruit in her hand seemed to be swelling larger with each passing moment, a sensation of intoxicating strength and size permeating every inch of her body. Her heart leapt into her throat as she tried to crouch down in the ever-dwindling space, dropping the fruit with a loud ‘splatch’ and pressing her hands against the roof as she continued to expand.

To her great surprise, just as it felt like she was about to run out of space, the roof gave way. It didn’t crack or break or explode outwards; it just opened as though it had been a door on a set of hinges. By the looks of the creaking, mossy mechanisms in the gaps, it looked as though it had been designed that way. However, Athena wasn’t exactly in a fit state to appreciate the craftsmanship.

Having not been expecting the roof to simply open to the touch, the force of her shoving had carried her off balance. Rearing up to her full height, the apex of the temple now barely reaching her knees, the young historian stumbled backwards over the lip of the chamber. With her arms flailing like pinwheels and her feet crashing down wherever they could find purchase, Athena blundered into the makeshift camp outside the temple grounds. She couldn’t tell if it was some intoxicating quality of the fruit, her body adjusting to the sudden change in height or simple honest-to-goodness clumsiness on her part, but she simply couldn’t regain her balance.

Shouts and hollers erupted from around the camp as tribes-women and colonial guards alike scattered in all directions. Great boot-prints were left in her wake as Athena attempted to right herself. She threw down a step to try and halt her progress only to send it ploughing straight through one of the guard towers in a shower of splinters. Slipping on the fresh pile of rubble, she staggered forwards, crushing several of the supply tents before slamming her ankle into a second tower, bowling it over like a pile of matchsticks.

Just as she thought she might be able to stop herself falling about everywhere, the toe of her other foot stepped forwards straight into a row of washing lines. The motion was more than enough to tear them free, but it was unexpected enough to throw her through a loop, crashing about wildly as the chaos continued to erupt on ground level.

Unbeknownst to the flailing colossus, the tribeswomen hadn’t wasted the precious opportunity offered by her unexpected arrival. The instant the guard towers were down, the warriors leaped upon the colonial troops, subduing those who were unarmed and slaying those who tried to gun them down. The melee was as wild as it was brief; a row of gunmen would take aim at a group of distracted Amazonians only to vanish in a red cloud beneath one of Athena’s thundering boots, while across the battlefield a group of troops would gain a clear line of sight only to have the canvas of a demolished tent flutter down and smother the lot of them.

Up in the air, Athena was only dimly aware that something was happening below her. Somewhere in her head, her common sense kicked in: ‘If you can’t stop stumbling around without falling, then just fall and get it over with! Just sit down!’

Relaxing the muscles in her legs, Athena dropped to the ground.

At the same time, amidst the melee, Governor Reed emerged from his tent, shaving cream on his chin and an irritated expression on his face.

“Oh for goodness sakes!” He bellowed, “Can’t you imbeciles handle a few little gir-” A shadow fell over Reed’s face as his eyes rotated skywards. His jaw dropped.

With a deafening ‘BOOM’, Athena hit the ground, distantly aware of her bottom landing on something small and squishy. And just like that, there was stillness.

Her heartrate gradually slowed as Athena sat perfectly still, arms held firmly at her sides for balance as she looked around the devastated camp. Clusters of tribeswomen stood around groups of prisoners, others standing along amidst a small pile of bodies. Everyone, Amazon and colonist alike, was staring up at Athena as she stared right back. There was silence.

Completely oblivious to the maelstrom, York came bustling out of the temple, his gaze downcast at the bundle of sketches in his arms.

“Well, I’ve finished my sketches and I’ve made a rough catalogue of everything we went over in there,” he wandered straight past Athena’s towering leg, her eyes watching him with growing amusement as the characteristically unobservant fellow reached her boot. Without looking up from his papers, he placed his pith helmet down where his table used to be, a space now occupied by the edge of his friend’s foot, “don’t know how helpful it will be, but still… Also, heard a few rumbles in there, so we might be in for a sto-” He looked up finally and halted mid-sentence.

He looked at the women standing guard over the colonists. He looked at the ruined guard towers. He looked at the upturned soil and massive craters scattered around the place. And finally, he turned and looked behind him, his gaze flowing naturally up the enormous figure of Athena until he met her gaze.

His papers dropped to the ground.

“Lord Nelson’s trousers! What… it… this… I… you…” His face went bright red as he fumbled for words.

Athena just laughed. She hadn’t expected it to be her reaction, but the sight of her babbling, blushing little friend taking it all in was too much.

“Yeah… so… this is a thing.” Athena replied, glancing down at herself for a moment before looking back to York. “I’ll bet you’re loving this; hm?”

“… Maybe.” He paused, fingertips poking together awkwardly as he just stared in undisguised awe. “Something tells me Reed doesn’t have quite enough money to buy your services anymore.”

“Yyyyyeeeeeaahhhh… about that.” The towering woman shifted her bulk to one side, twisting around to peer down at the butt-shaped crater beneath her. York scooted around briskly and peered into the mess beneath his friend.

“… Eeeeeewwwwww…”

“Pretty much.” Settling back into place, Athena’s gaze returned to the tribeswomen, and discovered that they had all changed position. With the exception of those guarding the prisoners, every other Amazonian had gathered before her and knelt into a prostrated position of worship, much like the image depicted on the tablet.

“Looks like you’ve got a few admirers.”

“I thiiiink they think I’m their Goddess.”

“Well… are you?” The two friends made eye contact again. “I mean, you’re technically unemployed now; adding ‘Goddess’ to your resume would certainly be a new one.”

“You’re not wrong… But no. Nononononono. That’s a bit too much responsibility for me thanks… ”

“You don’t have to.” The feminine voice rang out from the crowd, the High Priestess striding forwards and speaking fluently in her own tongue. “You have done more than enough for us already. We are more than capable of taking care of ourselves. Had you chosen to stay, we would have accepted you gladly… but we do not force it on you. Know though, that if you ever find yourself in need, you may call upon us. We will do all in our power to save you, just as you saved us.”

“Thank you...” Athena replied with a smile, bowing her head in acceptance, “but… how do I… pass this on? I mean, I don’t want this. I’m sure he wants me to want this,” she gestured at York, who grinned broadly, “but I really don’t want this.”

“Fear not; the fruit is temporary, as are its effects. In time you will return to your normal state if you do not continue to eat the fruit. A single fruit will only last for an hour, so you should be fully restored before you lay down to bed.”

“…… Yyyyeeeeeeeeeaaahhhh… about that.” The humongous historian cleared her throat. “How about if you ate more than one fruit.”

“The effect is exponential. How many did you eat?”

“… Like… twelve?”

“Ah… Do you have any plans for the next month?”

“Fuck.”