Muse Unexpected (13 page)

Clink…clink…clink.

Sophie clenched her eyes tighter in an attempt to ignore the annoying sound, wondering what was making it.

Clink…clank…clank.

She assumed it must be a strange Greek alarm clock and threw her arm towards her nightstand, knocking several items onto the floor.

“You know, Sophie, I’m sure I can think of
at least
a million things I could be doing, but nothing would be as fulfilling as watching you sleep. I’m having a wicked time.”

Sophie’s opened her eyes and winced at the morning sunlight streaming into the bedroom. She heard the owner of the voice take a sip of something and then set an object down with another clank.

Who the hell is in my room?

“We’ve got a busy day ahead of us and it doesn’t include you sleeping in and a late wake-up call.”

A throb to the center of her forehead made her cringe.

I am going to kill whoever is the owner of that crisp and tight New England accent
.
The room temperature is dropping five degrees with each syllable coming from it.

She sat up and yelled out in pain as her sore body asked her to stop moving.

“As you will learn, Muses tend to be on the emotional side. Emotions can be a trigger for your powers, but if you’re not careful they can overwhelm you, leaving you helpless.”

Seated at Sophie’s desk was a beautiful girl in cut-off shorts, white shirt and well-worn leather sandals. She guessed she must be around her own age. Her skin was dark brown and her hair was a mass of arranged dreadlocks, each strand thick with golden threads weaved in.

The girl sat with her legs crossed and reached over to the mug sitting on the desk next to her, briskly stirred the drink and dropped the spoon onto the saucer with a loud clank.

“Who the heck are you? What are you doing in my room? And for the love of God, stop banging.” Sophie groaned as she scratched the side of her head and scooted to the edge of her bed. “I’d say I’m surprised to find a complete stranger in my bedroom, but I’m sure this is all part of the wonderful world of Muse.”

“Well, that is a step in the right direction. My name is Angela,” the girl said, uncrossing her legs to face Sophie. “You know, I’m quite excited to have the opportunity to help a Muse develop her sea legs. You see, I’ve always found Muses to be curious creatures."

Angela stood up and approached Sophie, holding up her hand in front of her palm faced out. “You haven’t been a Muse for very long. I can tell because newer Muses tend to radiate the energy they attract. It’s one of the reasons why younger Muses are isolated from the general public. I can feel the energy radiating off of you. Can you feel the energy in the room being drawn to you?”

Sophie shrugged. “I don’t know if I do or don’t? I’ve felt different since I first woke up in Greece.”

“The reason why you radiate energy is because you have the ability to attract and harness the energy around you. Originally, it was an escape trigger. Muses can harness the energy around them to dissipate into the air and reappear at a safe location. This power has evolved into a powerful defense mechanism through which they can concentrate gathered energy into a single compact mass and fling it at an enemy. Some of the more powerful Muses have the ability to throw bolts of energy, although I’ve never seen it done. They also have developed the ability to use the same energy to move and manipulate items.”

“Wonderful. Thanks for Muse 101. I now have a long list of things I either don’t know how to do or have no control of and won’t remember. Because in a period of a few days, I’ve had the kitchen sink thrown at me.” Her neck was stiff and the last thing she wanted was a lecture from someone she didn’t know.

“Things could always be worse, although looking the way you do right now, I’d be hard-pressed to think of a way they could.” Angela sniffed. “You are about as far from being
yawl
as a person could get.”

“Okay, maybe I’m not at my
yawl
best, whatever
yawl
means, but your ‘
tude
’ is a bit much for me to take right at this moment. I’d be a bit more spoon full of sugar if you could dial it back.”

There was a recognizable knock at the door and Sophie called for her mother to come in.

Callie walked in carrying a tray with several covered dishes, two glasses of orange juice and a carafe of what smelled like coffee. “Good morning, honey. I see you’ve met Angela.” Callie set the tray on Sophie’s bed.

“Yes,” Angela said dryly. “Sophia was finally waking up.”

Callie gave Sophie an all too familiar “is that so” look. She removed the covers to the plate to reveal an overflowing pile of eggs, French toast, sausage, bacon and buttered toast. “I wasn’t sure what you would want, so I made a little bit of everything. Angela, I made enough so you two could get to know each other over breakfast. There’s an extra plate underneath this one.”

“Thank you,” Angela said.

Sophie groaned as she scooted closer to the plates of food to grab a piece of maple bacon, which she popped into her mouth, savoring its salty sweetness. Her head pounded a little less and the throbbing ache in her back and limbs was almost gone. Feeling better, she grabbed another piece of bacon. In response, Callie motioned for Sophie to invite Angela to eat something.

“Please, help yourself.” Sophie grumbled. But in response the girl fixed her dark brown eyes on Sophie. A slight movement below Angela’s ear caught Sophie’s attention and for a split second she could have sworn she saw a lock of the girl’s hair move. Angela reached over and plucked a single piece of sausage from a serving plate while her other hand pushed the loose dread back into place.

Callie got up to leave.

“Mom, where are you going? I have a million”

“Sweetie, I know you have a million questions, but I don’t have time to answer them right now. Georgia expects me to resume my work and I already have several assignments I have to begin working on.”

“Well, what a surprise. Who knew there was a huge backlog in the inspiration business. So, just like that? You go back to work, doing whatever a Muse does and I’m expected to sit here and wait until someone decides to give me the whole story? Why do I have the feeling I’m being kept in the dark? It’s driving me crazy.” Sophie whined.

“Honey, look, I know you are struggling with all of this.” Callie sat down on the edge of the bed. She placed her hand on her daughter’s and gave it a squeeze. “That’s why Angela is here. She’ll begin your education. It’s summer and we’ll begin your real education in the fall, but for now, you’re going to have to let Angela help bring you up to speed. We have an endless list of preparations to work on.”

“Preparations, for what?” Sophie asked.

“At the end of the season, there is going to be a gathering of the Vasilikós. Angela will go over this with you. I swear I will spend some time and answer all the questions Angela hasn’t covered. I’m sorry, sweetie, but I have to dash.”

With her last word, the air around Callie began to spark, and with a large crack she was gone.

Sophie sat staring at the empty space.

“You’ll get used to people Shimmering in and out of here, especially when you start doing it yourself.”

“Shimmering?” Sophie said, glancing over at Angela. “Is that what they call it?”

“There are several names for it, including a difficult Greek word, but I prefer Shimmering. Let’s move our breakfast to the Morning Room and I can take you on a short tour of some of the more significant sections of the Vasilikós.”

Angela recovered the plates and reached over to pick up the cordless phone beside Sophie’s bed. A voice immediately responded.

“Anna? Could you please have our breakfast moved into the East Wing’s Morning Room? Yes, that’s right. You might want to reheat the items. Yes, fresh coffee please. Thank you.” Angela reached over and uncovered the plate of breakfast meats and both girls took one last slice of bacon before venturing into the hallway. The door to Sophie’s bedroom hadn’t even closed shut before a young girl appeared with a trolley.

“Thank you, Anna,” Angela said, walking past the girl and down the hallway.

“How is it my bedroom now looks like my old one?” Sophie asked.

“It’s Eupheme.”

Sophie gave a puzzled look. “Who?”

“Eupheme is our resident Passiosensi Water Nymph.”

“Yeah, wow,” Sophie said. “You need to take it a bit slower.”

“Sorry about that. Like many who live and work in this Vasilikós, Eupheme is a bit of a rare creature. She is a Water Nymph Empath who can draw her powers from water and from raw emotions. She also fancies herself a bit of an interior designer and don’t bother asking why. I believe that was a bit of misplaced inspiration after a group of Muses had a few too many glasses of wine. Knowing she can learn a lot about a person from a single touch makes her a bit touchy-feely for my taste. But you can never change a Salem girl. We are frightfully private.”

“But I’ve never met her.”

“Well, I’m guessing you, being a new Muse, can create an emotional imprint everywhere you go. Your emotions are so strong right now even I could read them and I’m not gifted or sensitive in that way.”

“So, the room isn’t real?”

“It’s not an illusion. Water Nymphs are well known for their ability to mesmerize, so I’m sure Glamour has something to do with it. I, for one, don’t find the room attractive, but then it wasn’t meant for me. However, what makes Euphe special is her ability to alter inanimate objects on the molecular level. So, what appears to be your room is in fact a duplicate based on your memories and emotions.”

“Are you joking about this?”

“I come from Massachusetts. Our winters are about as bitter as we are. We don’t joke.”

This place is nuts.

Hallways seemed to go in all directions, attaching one large room to another. Numerous staircases made of different materials, styles, and varying sizes went up and down to different floors in the Vasilikós with no apparent direction or pattern. Every inch of the stone walls lining the many hallways were covered with paintings of gods, goddesses, mythical creatures, battle scenes and the occasional landscapes or freshly polished pieces of armor, swords, and other items of war. Certain precious pieces were in display cases and Sophie stopped to read the small brass plaque on the glass case to the right of her.

SWORD OF PERSEUS

Underneath the plaque was a warning about handling the sword.

“Danger! Gorgon Blood! POISON! Do not handle sword. Side effects can include dry mouth, constipation, blindness, shortness of breath, turning into stone and death."

“Gorgon’s blood,” Angela said. “The sword itself was a gift from Zeus to Perseus, and it was the actual sword Perseus used to slay the Gorgon Medusa. She was the mortal among the three sisters. They say she was an incredible beauty until Aphrodite changed her,” Angela said with apparent sadness in her voice as she touched a marble bust of Medusa next to the display case. After removing a thin layer of dust from its pedestal, Angela continued the tour.

“This room, English and French in style, is the main Entry Hall and also serves as an Evanescia room,” Angela explained.

“Evanes…what?” Sophie asked.

“Evanescia room. The mirrors found throughout the room serve as a form of transportation. While Muses can Shimmer here and there, most Demigods cannot. In certain cases, Shimmering is not permitted and protected against. I’ll show you how the mirrors work later. The staircase in the entry hall is one of the largest ever created. I’m told it was chiseled from ten large pieces of marble, hence the lack of visible seams. These stairs are not original to this Vasilikós but were a gift from the Roman Vasilikós, which is now known as the Italy Vasilikós. Now, the next room is famous for its tall hand-carved oak paneling.”

Angela’s voice seemed to drift away as Sophie’s attention was taken by an unusual mirror at the opposite end of the hall. It ran floor to ceiling along a stone wall, its frame gilded and embedded with semi-precious stones. The frame seemed to expand back into the stone behind it, like a vine gripping the wall itself. The surface of the mirror glowed a bit, and Sophie couldn’t take her eyes away from it. The mirror was calling to her.

“What’s up with the mirror?” Sophie said, over her shoulder.

“Nothing. It’s nothing more than a mirror,” Angela said.

“You’re not telling me the truth,” Sophie said, staring intently and walking towards it. She would have reached it had it not been for Angela, who rushed to Sophie’s side and pulled her away.

“Okay. It goes somewhere, but it’s not for me to take you on that journey,” Angela replied, leading her away, letting Sophie know the mirror conversation was over. They walked into a large room off the entry hall and then into another long corridor leading to a hexagon room that had several other corridors connected to it, forming a starburst pattern.

“How big is this place?” Sophie asked as she stopped by yet another staircase and walked around it into a vast ballroom. The room’s expansive wood floors gleamed as if it were recently polished. Several crystal chandeliers were wrapped in gauzy drop cloths and their heavy-lead crystal prisms twinkled and made a soft tinkling sound. Angela walked past Sophie to open up a few of the French doors, letting in a fresh breeze. Outside Sophie could see a large stone veranda with an impressive stone railing covered with crape myrtle blossoms. Intricate benches with overstuffed pale blue-seated cushions lined the walls and a balcony, hidden behind some wooden scrollwork, was where Sophie assumed the orchestra would play.

“This is the imperial ballroom,” Angela stated. “It is used for formal balls, royal events of state, which is why it’s normally closed up with the windows shuttered.”

“But the floors are polished,” Sophie said, recalling what her mother had told her. “What happens when they gather all of the Vasilikós? Does this happen every time a new Muse is born?”

“No, they don’t usually open this room for the introduction of a new Muse into a Vasilikós. However, it is my understanding your introduction into this Vasilikós is very different.”

“Different?” Sophie said, concerned about what was going to happen during this introduction.
What have I gotten myself into?

“Your grandmother is head of this Vasilikós and very powerful. I’m guessing the introduction of her granddaughter into our world is a big event. That’s all.”

As they exited the room, several very short men and women walked in, carrying numerous boxes.

“Hurry up, Julia.” The older woman at the front bellowed, her Irish accent about as thick as her tumbled, faded cinnamon curls. “We haven’t got all dae and Georgia will be expectin us to be a lot farther along than we are. Malcolm. Will you stop dawdling or you’ll be put back to catacombs duty and ya know how ya hate spiders. Oh. Hallo, Angela.” The woman walked toward the two girls while she removed a dishtowel to wipe her hands. A small pipe was tucked into a snugly tied headscarf.

“Hi, Winnie,” Angela responded.

At first Sophie thought her eyes must be playing tricks on her, but when the woman came closer she realized she couldn’t be any taller than four feet. Winnie had a ruddy complexion with so many freckles it would have been impossible to count them, a bulbous nose and golden eyes. One ear poked out from underneath her kerchief and the top of it came to a point. Her smile and attitude were both intoxicating and infectious, and Sophie couldn’t help but smile almost to the point of laughing.

“Glory be to God in the highest. You must be Sophia, Callie’s girl.” She beamed at Sophie and then frowned. “Alistair. How many times must I tell you you’ll be needin’ the tall ladder to get those drop cloths down?”

The young boy she was yelling at, who was even shorter then she was, carried a small step stool and dropped it in the doorway with a loud clatter. He left.

“Sometimes I wonder if he even has a brain in his head. If he weren’t my sister Mary’s son…” her voice trailed off, then quicker than a blink, changed her attitude. “Ah, Sophie, look at you. The spitting image of your mother, although I suspect we’ve got a wee bit of your father in you. Yes, the smile. Your smile is like your father’s. I remember when I first saw him; it was about a fortnight before your parents met for the first time. So handsome. Had your mother not run away with him, I would have had him for myself.” Winnie winked and burst into a roaring wave of laughter.

Sophie was surprised how loud such a little person could be.

“So sorry to hear of his passin’. I know both you and your mum loved him very much. He was always such a kind soul, granted I only ever saw him for the briefest of moments. He would come and meet with Georgia at least once a season.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “Once a season? I thought Georgia hated my father.”

Winnie paused. “Oh, but there I go, running on and on. Forgive me, dear heart. Are you enjoyin’ your new home? I run the household for Georgia. My name is Winifred, but you can call me Winnie. If there is anythin” Winnie stopped a moment to turn her attention to the returning Alistair, who wasn’t alone. A tall, dark-haired boy followed him into the room; the heavy wooden ladder slung over the boy’s left shoulder. He carried it with little effort then removed it off his shoulder and placed it down.

“Bennett. There you are,” Winnie said. “You’re such a luv. Thank you so much for bringing the ladder. Alistair, how could you bother Bennett, considerin’ the work he has in the garden and on the grounds?”

Sophie knew she shouldn’t stare, but she couldn’t help herself. Her heart thumped in her chest and she thought she would have to remind herself to breathe.

Bennett wore a T-shirt that clung to his body like a second skin, its faded and cracked message about drinking some sort of Greek brand orange soda.

Oh my God. He’s gorgeous. He needs a haircut. No, it curls so cute in the back and around his ears. It’s perfect.

He stood well over six and a half feet tall and had the type of body that never had seen the inside of a gym but was naturally muscular. Well-defined muscles formed broad shoulders connected to an equally muscular back, forming the v-shape she knew many movie stars had paid ridiculous amounts of money to achieve.

Bennett stretched his back, the movement lifting his shirt to expose a defined six-pack. Apparently embarrassed by the exposure, he pulled his shirt down. He wore torn grass and dirt-stained cargo shorts that were a size too big. They balanced on his hipbones and showed the waistband of his white boxers. Sophie knew any Ohioan would say he possessed the classic corn-fed farmer build.

His mannerisms told Sophie that Bennett was the kind of person who didn’t know he was good-looking and his humility made him even more irresistible to her. He had a shy smile and as he listened to some additional instructions from Winnie, his eyes showed a seriousness that wasn’t brooding but very intense.

When Winnie asked him a question, the boy responded with his head held tilted down, another sign of humility, and he knelt so that Winnie could give him a peck on his cheek.

God, what I would give for a single kiss.

Bennett glanced toward Sophie and Angela, and gave both girls a quirky, crooked smile. Angela raised her hand to wave him over.

Her heart banged against her ribcage and she was sure it would burst out of her body. She wanted to die because she was sure she was a mess and pushed some hair away from her face. With a quick but sincere prayer she hoped she didn’t have a piece of bacon in her teeth or, even worse, morning breath.

Bennett raised his large hand in an absentminded wave.

“Well.” Winnie shouted beside him, pushing him toward the girls. “Don’t just stand there. Let me introduce you to Sophie, Callie’s daughter.”

Bennett had started to walk over but stopped dead in his tracks the moment the words ‘Callie’s daughter’ left Winnie’s mouth, and Sophie watched his laidback demeanor change.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have some tasks I need to address,” Bennett said, his voice deep and monotone, betraying the slightest Scottish lilt. Without another word, Bennett exited the room, leaving an awkward silence.

A feverish blush rose in Sophie’s cheeks.

Move. You’re standing here, grinning like an idiot. I have never been so attracted to someone and he blew me off. What the hell?

“Don’t take it to heart, darlin’. Bennett is a bit shy.” Winnie said. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to be gettin' back to the cleaning. I’ve got so much to do and so little time to get it done,” Winnie said, with an obvious forced cheeriness. She resumed her work, calling back over her shoulder. “Remember dear, if you need anythin’, you let me know. Pick up the phone and ask for me. Abigail. Will you ever stop dawdling around? Take those cushions out to the veranda and give them a good shake and beating. Oh, for the love of Jesus, Joseph and Mary. If you drop a single crystal from that chandelier, Alistair, Georgia will have your hide and that’s after I get through with you.”

Two of Winnie’s assistants escorted them from the room, closing the doors to the ballroom with a soft click. Winnie’s voice, although muffled, boomed orders as the sound of tiny feet ran in different directions.

“Is she a hobbit?” Sophie asked. She was hoping to ask about Bennett first, but didn’t want to sound too obvious and she didn’t know if Angela and Bennett were more than friends.

“You’ve been reading too much J.R.R. Tolkien. However, she is a Hob, which is a sort of Hobgoblin. Winnie is from a clan of Hobs found on the Coasts of Ireland. They dwell in grand houses like this one, concerning themselves with the inner workings of it. To them, there is great honor given to the Hob who serves a household, no matter how small or large. Some Hobs are content being invisible and remain invisible in the outside world. Something broken one day and fixed another, without explanation, is the work of a hidden Hob. For Winnie, serving a Vasilikós, well, it’s a life-long dream. Although, you should know having a Hob can be either a blessing or curse. A happy Hob means a happy house. However, those who insult and abuse a Hob often find them to be a curse because an ill-tempered Hob will not rest until complete misery befalls the owner and several generations after them.”

“What about Bennett—” Sophie broached the subject, as the two girls took another turn and walked up a flight of stairs, only to immediately take another staircase down, but somehow ending up on a different floor.