Muse Unexpected (17 page)

Tears ran down Sophie’s cheeks, as sobs escaped her lips. She sat at her desk, staring down at her shaking hands. She didn’t bother to look up when she heard Angela enter her room.

“Please, Angela,” Sophie said, “I need a second to be alone. For one second, I just want everyone to leave me alone.”

“I can’t. Friends don’t leave when they are needed the most.”

Sophie lifted up her hands and held her head between them. She heard the click of her bedroom door and before she could think she was alone, Angela’s hand was touching her hair, as she brushed it.

“You might not think so, but you are incredibly lucky,” Angela said.

“I’m a lot of things, but lucky isn’t one of them. I’m an Ohioan. I’m an American. I’m a teenager. Hmmm, what else am I? Oh, yes, I’m a freak. I’m a Muse and now I’m some sort of savior. Now that I think about it, you’re right. I’m so lucky.”

“That’s one way to look at it.”

“Let me guess, you’re going to begin listing all of the amazing things I should feel grateful for. It should only take you a few seconds.”

“You have a mother who loves you very much. From everything I’ve heard about your father, he adored you. You could do no wrong in his eyes. Compared to my childhood, I’d say you have a lot to be thankful for.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“You also have a grandmother who also cares a lot for you, in spite of her horrible way of showing it.”

“Is this where I’m supposed to realize my life isn’t so bad?” Sophie said, slumping into her chair.

“Then there is Bennett—”

“Who runs in the opposite direction whenever I enter the room.”

“I don’t recall him running when he held you a few hours ago and I’m taking a bit of a leap here, but I think his running says more about how much he may be feeling for you. Not that he has said anything to me, but you would have to be blind not to see that he is feeling something.”

“Well, clearly I must be blind because I don’t see—”

“And then you have me, although I will admit your current attitude is making it pretty hard to admit how much your friendship means to me. It’s pathetic for me to say this, but…here goes… you are the closest thing to a friend I’ve ever had. Go ahead and laugh, but it’s true. I’m not saying this to make you feel sorry for me. I’m simply stating the facts. Growing up, my father considered things like friendship as a waste of time and completely unnecessary. I was created for a single purpose.”

“You make it sound like you were nothing more than a project to your Dad. I’m sure he loved you.”

“In his own way, I think he did, but the love he felt for me paled in comparison to his love for power and he never lost sight of the fact that I was expected to bring him the glory he believed he deserved. He was a powerful witch, but like many, there was always a growing and constant desire for more power. It was an unfortunate situation because the more I tried to make him proud, the more I pushed him away. The harder I practiced my spells, the more I achieved, the greater his jealously grew. I wish I could say that it is painful for me to admit this, but my father was a selfish ass. I did everything he wanted me to do and more, thinking it would make him happy. I was a fool to think if I could master one more difficult spell or create three more difficult potions, he would finally turn to me and—”

“And tell you he loved you,” Sophie said.

“I don’t ever remember my father ever saying those words to me. Can you say the same? Remember to not forget the many blessings you have in your life, no matter how hard the road in front of you becomes.” Angela put the brush down and exited the room.

Sophie sat there for a few seconds, not really sure how to react.

What the heck?
Why is it, every time I turn around, I’m feeling like a complete ass? Everything I do is wrong. Everything I say is wrong and I’m supposed to save the world? Lead the battle? Be everyone’s champion?

“I couldn’t even save my father.”

She realized she was being selfish, had always been selfish. She never had made things easier for her parents and now with her father was gone; she would never be able to make it up to him. He was lost.

But
,
I still have my mother and whatever relationship I have with Georgia. And Angela is my friend. She’s my only friend, except for Bennett.

She began to feel a little bit better, until a sinking feeling hit her.

My dad would have liked them…my dad was murdered. He loved me and they killed him. They’ll always be there, waiting for the right moment to strike. They will always hunt down what I love, until they destroy any happiness in my life. They need to learn that just because you have these super powers, doesn’t mean you can kill whoever stands in your way. I want them to pay. I am lucky and it’s about time I find out what a little luck can get me.

Sophie left her room and before she knew it, she was standing at the door of her mother’s private rooms. She knocked and waited a few moments. She didn’t hear anything except for the muffled sounds of the sea and knew her mother must be on her terrace. She tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. Her mother lay on a chaise lounge, asleep.

“Mom?”

Callie opened her eyes and smiled at her daughter. “Sweetie. I’m sorry, I was sitting here thinking and I must have fallen asleep.”

“You know why I’m here. I have to go see them.”

Her mother bit her bottom lip. “Look,” Callie began. “You don’t just go and visit the most powerful beings on this earth as if you were going to visit some kindly old aunts.”

“I know, Mom.”

“No you don’t. We need to tread very carefully here. Once you start down that road, there isn’t a way to turn back. It won’t be like me. You won’t ever have a chance for normal.”

“Mom, normal doesn’t exist for me anymore. It’s not an option. Look, I know I don’t understand everything one hundred percent, but what I do know is that I have my path and I’ve accepted it, or maybe I’ve decided not to fight Fate. I still have moments where I seriously can’t believe I’m tossing around words like Fate, Gorgon and gods and goddesses, but I have to accept that this is my reality. So this world has all sorts of crazy creatures and danger lurks around every corner. It is what it is, but even here I know I won’t let my father’s sacrifice go unpunished. These Fallen Ones want a fight? Well, I’m going to give them one.”

“You’re talking like a child. Talk of revenge is childish. These are creatures who eat revenge like an appetizer and their main course is mortal suffering. Your fight with them isn’t about your father.” Callie stood up and grabbed Sophie, shoving her to the edge of the balcony. The energy around Sophie was tingling and sparking and with a loud crack Sophie’s world went black.

Every part of Sophie’s body tingled and her head spun. Wind came from all directions, cooling Sophie’s skin and drying the perspiration on the back of her neck. She shuddered a little and opened her eyes, watching as they passed through rock, pipes and wood. She realized they weren’t traveling outside the Vasilikós, but through it. Materializing on the roof, Sophie fell to the ground, her legs like rubber from her first Shimmering experience.

Callie reached down and forced her to stand. “Get up, Sophie. For once, you foolish girl, you must truly understand what all of this means. Do you see down there, in the village and beyond, into the mountains and beyond that? Look over here and see the sea, and see the lands beyond the sea, and the land and seas beyond even that. Do you see the millions upon millions upon millions of people going about their daily lives without a clue as to what is happening here? It is for those lives, for those souls you would be doing this. Those lives are in your hands. Each birth will be due to your successes and each unplanned death to your failures. So don’t talk to me about revenge, as if that is even important. It pains me to say, but thoughts of your father are just a waste of your time.”

Sophie winced at her mother’s abrupt words.

How could she be so cruel about daddy?

She looked beyond the Vasilikós and begrudgingly understood what her mother was saying.

“And it isn’t just one Fallen One. It’s hundreds, but no one knows what was locked away in Olympus and what has managed to hide. That doesn’t even take into consideration the Olympians who have escaped from their realm. All of them have one mission and that is to destroy or possess you. They don’t care which, because it’s all the same to them. Now do you understand?”

Sophie stood silently and continued to look beyond the seas. She imagined all of the other countries full of cities that were full of towns and full of souls. She imagined everyone she knew back in Ohio then doubled, tripled and quadrupled them in her mind. She then multiplied the group by infinity and saw an unending sea of people she was now responsible for, and the reality of her situation struck her like a double shot of adrenaline. Her heart began to beat in her chest faster and faster, and she thought of her father, as she closed her eyes, her head swimming.

“Come on, kid,” said her father’s voice. “Stop your bellyaching and jump in.” His voice was so clear, as if he was standing right next to her. When faced with what she thought was impossible, her father always say the same thing.

“I’m counting on you. You’ll do what’s right,” he said. The double-barrel shotgun of her father’s words hit her, along with the boost in confidence it always gave her, and the darkness melted away.

He always believed in me, even when I didn’t give him any real reason to do so.

She opened her eyes and looked at her mother.

She felt different. She knew now was the time to put childish things away, because she wasn’t a child anymore.

“And so, the veil has been removed,” Callie said. “You see our world as it truly is and I am saddened to see your childhood vanish.”

“I’ll still play with dolls if it makes you happy,” Sophie said. “Tell me about the Fates and what I should expect.”

Callie smiled and nodded. “In a moment, sweetie, let’s enjoy the quiet for a few seconds more.”

Two hours passed and the sun set. She lay there with her mother on the rooftop of the Vasilikós and watched the millions of stars appear. They held hands and talked about nothing important.

A week later, Sophie and Angela stood in front of the small stone cottage that hid the Vasilikós from the mortal world, waiting for Aletheria, who pulled up in a red, clearly vintage convertible.

“This is a beautiful car,” Angela said, opening the door and stepping into the tiny back seat. Aletheria reminded the girls to tie their scarves around their heads to keep their hair from getting messed up, but when the girls couldn’t quite get the scarves right Aletheria grew frustrated and sketched two scarves onto them. She laughed and proclaimed that they were perfect examples of 1950’s chic in their summer dresses.

“Only answer what they ask and do not ask for
anything,”
Aletheria explained. “They never give anything away for free, but are more than willing to offer everything they know for a price.”

The roads twisted and turned along a valley and sloped up a mountain, then gradually descended into another valley. Below them they saw a long winding road connected to theirs, which led them to a picturesque villa. A tall faded pink stucco wall surrounded the grounds, making it into a compound of sorts. At a brick and stone archway with an imposing gate, Aletheria brought the car to an abrupt stop.

Through the iron gates, Sophie saw a large cobblestoned courtyard covered in climbing roses and wild jasmine. The fragrance of the flowers mingled with boxwood bushes, tall Italian cypresses, baking bread and brewed spice tea.

“This is where I leave you,” Aletheria said, as the scarves erased themselves off the girls' heads. “Neither I, nor anyone else, can cross into their villa without being invited. The ladies and I haven’t always been on the best of terms. My very existence is an exception to their rules and they hate any exceptions. However, I will be here promptly at three to pick you up. Remember what we’ve told you and you’ll be okay. Unfortunately, when it comes to those three, our hands are tied.”

Aletheria started her car again and with a squeal of her wheels drove away, taunting some young men working in the garden.

Sophie eyed Angela and thought that this was a situation where having a Gorgonian best friend was a good thing. She offered Angela a nervous, but optimistic thumbs-up.

“Let’s do it,” she said as she reached over to pull the bell string. A villa door located at the back of the garden opened and three women stepped out. She wasn’t sure what to expect from three of the most powerful gods in history, but these three were a pleasant surprise.

“Sophie, honey.” The tallest of the three called out to her in a heavy, gravelly Brooklyn accent. She wore a navy and white polyester pantsuit and her wrinkled face bore a lot of powder and blush, along with blood red lipstick. She threw open the gates. “So glad to meet you. My name is Rose.”

The second woman was shorter and slighter, and had the appearance of being a grandmother out of the English countryside. She wore a comfortable flower print dress with a garden smock over it. She fumbled with the ties of her coveralls. Reading glasses were perched on the bridge of her button nose and Sophie found her comforting. Everything about the woman said Granny.

“Don’t be rude,” the woman chastised Rose with an upper-crust English accent. “Acknowledge both of our guests.” She smiled at Angela. “Hello, my name is Agatha. So glad you could make it out for the afternoon.” She shook Angela’s hand and led her into the garden. “You’ll be surprised to hear that I know your mother. She is such a charming woman. I even have a piece of needlepoint she gave me one Christmas many years ago. I’ll have to show it to you. Such an attention to detail
.
”

The third woman was the shortest of the three, albeit the largest in girth. Her skin was brown and she was dressed in what appeared to be her Sunday best. The navy suit was tailored to fit her wide frame and showcase what appeared to be her best physical assets—an almost comically large bosom and a robust rear end. She hit Sophie on the top of her head with her shiny white leather purse, which swung out of control as she shut the gates behind her.

“Sorry, Sophie. Did I hit you, child? By the way, my name is Cleo. It is going to be hotter than Hades today, so we’ll be taking tea indoors,” Cleo said, hooking her arm into Sophie’s and directing the girl indoors.

“It’s called alfresco, Cleo,” Rose corrected.

“I don’t care what you call it, Rose, ‘cause I am
not
sweating in my good dress. You know how I get when I’m overheated,” Cleo said. “It’s my blood sugar, honey. All over the place and I can become very testy.”

“Well,” Sophie said with a nervous smile. “We wouldn’t want that.”

“No need to whisper, Cleo. Everyone knows about your blood sugar.” Rose shouted over her shoulder. “It’s all you ever talk about.”

Sophie and Angela were ushered into a large comfortable room with tufted couches and chairs. Worn floral prints of all different types clashed with each other and Sophie thought it resembled the mismatched furniture her high school used in all of their theater productions. The couch in the
Diary of Anne Frank
had also made an appearance in the production of
Barefoot in the Park
.

Rose gestured for the two girls to sit down in a loveseat with a cabbage-rose pattern and a ruffled dust skirt. Several dust bunnies lingered in the corners of the room and Agatha apologized, acknowledging today was the cleaning lady’s day off. Sophie noted the elaborate silver tea service hadn’t suffered from a lack of polishing and hot steam poured out of the largest pot.

Agatha positioned herself as hostess and began asking preferences regarding tea. After everyone was served, the group of women settled down for a quiet afternoon chat.

Rose sat in an armchair next to a small end-table, where she had her
I Love New York
ashtray and unfiltered cigarettes. She opened a small drawer and pulled out an airplane-sized bottle of brandy and poured a swig into her cup. Agatha grimaced in disapproval and turned her attention back to her guests, but not before Rose had taken a sip of her freshened-up tea and smacked her lips in delight.

“I am so glad you could make the time for a visit,” Agatha said as she began working on a piece of needlework. “We three are often so engrossed in our work that we hardly have enough time to interact with each other, let alone others outside of our villa. Isn’t that right, Cleo?”

Cleo looked up, a large slice of bread in one hand and her teacup in the other. She put down her items and lifted her napkin to her lips to wipe jam from her upper lip and swallow the large piece of bread still in her mouth. “You have testified to the complete and utter truth, Aggie,” she said. “Honey, if you only knew the requirements placed on goddesses like us. It’s exhausting.” Cleo glanced at the grandfather clock at the far end of the room, and opened her large white purse. She pulled out an empty spindle and began spooling golden thread onto it. The Fate reached over and took a sip of tea and grimaced. “Please pass the sugar bowl, darling,” she said to Angela. “Agatha always makes her tea so strong and I have to watch my blood sugar. It’s all over the place."

“Now, I’m not saying we don’t have our slow periods,” Cleo continued, “but vacations are often cancelled if there is a war going on. Without us creating the threads of life, measuring them to the precise length the Divine has allotted for each and then cutting threads from the fabric,” she said, while removing her hat at the same time, “life as we know it would stop. It can run an old lady down. Of course you two young people don’t have to worry about such things,
at least for right now
.”

Sophie shifted in her seat as Cleo’s emphasis on ‘worry’ and ‘right now’ made her feel uncomfortable.

“Confidentially, I don’t like to think about the last part.” Cleo said. “The cutting, I mean. It’s so final and serious. But then, I don’t have to worry about the cutting since I am responsible for the making of a life’s thread.”

“And I’m responsible for the measuring of a life’s thread. Rose, please, my eyes are so tired today,” said Agatha, sticking her needle into her needlepoint border. She handed it over to Rose who took out a small pair of golden scissors and cut the thread connecting the needle to the cloth. Sophie winced as the sharp scissors snapped the thread. In that moment, she was sure she had heard a soft, high-pitched wail. She hoped the scissors just needed oiling. Sophie didn’t bother to ask what role Rose played in the life process.

“So—” Angela offered, attempting to change the subject. “As you mentioned, you are very busy and we wouldn’t want to take up too much of your time. You wanted to see Sophie.”

“Yes,” Sophie offered. “What is it I can do for you?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Sophie knew she had made a grave mistake.

Rose turned her head and blew a big puff of smoke into the air. She offered Sophie a somewhat grotesque mockery of a smile, the woman’s blood red lips parting, revealing her tobacco-stained teeth.

“Well, since you were so kind and generous to ask,” Rose said, taking no pains to hide her desire to come to the point as she brushed the wayward ashes off the top of the side table. “We have heard Georgia is having a major event to introduce you to the other Eight Vasilikós. We would like to be included in the celebration. We would like an invitation to the event.”

Sophie watched as the three women stared at her on the edge of their seats, waiting for her answer.
Rose must think I am so stupid to not pick up on the fact that the Fates are up to something
.

“I was told by my mother the Fates tend to shun Vasilikós events,” Sophie began. “Except for the Mid-Summer Wine Ceremony, of course, when we present you with the special wine created from Georgia’s vines. It’s my understanding this wine restores your powers for another year. Why would you be interested in something as insignificant as a ball?”

Rose’s smiled changed as she gritted her teeth. “You know, little one, there are two things I don’t like to be reminded of. One has to do with my spaghetti sauce and how some people in this house, who will remain nameless, think that because I start with Mrs. Angelino’s spaghetti sauce as a base I shouldn’t refer to my sauce as homemade. This argument never fails to put me in a foul mood. The other thing that pisses me off is the slightest mention of my dependence on the Muses. However, you are correct. The idea of wasting an evening with Georgia is something I usually won’t entertain. I would strongly suggest that whomever gave you those little tidbits about us should stress to you it is impolite to discuss it openly.”

“Rose.” Agatha warned. “Put your shears away.”

Sophie noticed Rose absentmindedly opening and closing the golden scissors.

“Before you do something we will all regret,” Agatha said.

Rose froze and deposited her shears into her side table. “My apologies, girls,” Rose said. “I’ve been foolish. I guess today is one of those days where I live up to my reputation of being a real witch.”

There were a few beats of silence and then Cleo, Agatha and Rose laughed heartily.

Sophie didn’t feel like laughing, but did her best to fake it and nudged Angela to do the same.

“In all seriousness,” Agatha said. “We have to be at that party. When we say it’s written in the stars, it
is
written in the stars. I won’t explain, because as I’m sure you were told, information comes at a price when it comes from us.”

“Oh Aggie, you aren’t any fun.” Cleo said. “Give her a little something, for old time’s sake.”

“No.” Sophie said, jumping up and signaling Angela it was time to go. “We’ll wait outside in the garden until our ride arrives, in another two hours.”

“You’re mistaken,” Rose said, lighting up another cigarette. “You’ve been here for over four hours. Your ride, the book worm, has been waiting for the last hour.”

Sophie stared at her watch and stared at it. She was sure they had just arrived. She took a sip of her tea to prove herself right, expecting it to still be hot, but it wasn’t. It was stone cold.

Sophie panicked, wanting to leave even more than before. “We’ve taken up way too much of your time. My sincerest apologies.”

“No need to apologize, Sophie,” Rose said. “We’re always so glad to have visitors and you must come again real soon.”

“Of course,” Angela said, as Sophie pulled her out of the room.

“I’ll have Georgia send you the invitations,” Sophie explained. “She was planning on a late summer, early fall event.”

“Well, my dear,” Rose said, stopping them in their tracks as she flicked a piece of tobacco from her tongue. “You’ll have to tell Georgia her plans have changed. Tell her you’ve invited us to the event and agreed to change the date.”

Sophie whipped around and stared open-mouthed at the three women who stood smiling back at her.
Those aren’t sweet grannies. They’re sharks and I’m a bleeding swimmer.