Muse Unexpected (2 page)

Or else feel my sorrow, forever more.”

She whimpered, her hands shaking as she noticed the room becoming even darker, the remaining light coming from the candles and the burning herbs.

Georgia
raised her eyes. Crouched in a large tree was one of the courtyard statues, except it was far from motionless. The thing glared at her, its mouth open in a silent scream. It moved from left to right and then stood on its perch. It leapt into the air and slammed onto the floor with such force the root-covered tiles shattered beneath it. It paused for a second and then moved toward her.

Frightened, she turned her head away and came face-to-face with an equally frightening statue, inches away from her, its face caught in the same silent scream. Spinning, she tried to find an escape route, but she was surrounded by numerous other courtyard statues either working their way towards her or jumping from higher points in the temple, their impact shaking the floor beneath her. Black, shiny, lifeless eyes stared at her with rage, their moss-covered mouths dripping with a rust-colored slime as the creatures gnashed their jagged teeth.

She froze, unable to take her eyes off them as they paced back and forth in front of her.

“Guardians,” she whispered. She had read something about them, but in her panic she couldn’t recall –

Suddenly, she remembered something. Careful not to move too quickly, she reached over and grabbed a handful of salt and threw it at the creatures. They roared in pain, the salt sizzling on their skin, creating seeping wounds. After checking the book again, she saw a figure holding a round object, with light coming from the center of it. The guardians were also added to the drawing, appearing to crouch in fear and pain. Georgia grabbed the final package from the altar. She ripped off the wrapping and in her hand she gripped the only piece of jewelry Yiayia owned. It was a gold brooch, with a red stone. Its gold and jeweled surface shimmered in the candlelight.

One of the creatures caught a glimpse of the brooch and rushed at her. As it reached the stone circle, the statue’s eroded face smacked against an invisible force and it crashed to the floor howling. This angered the others and they all rushed forward, but they encountered the same invisible wall. Ignoring their attempts, she searched the book for help. The book had once again changed, except now every ancient page was completely blank. Disgusted, she threw it down.

“The answer has to be obvious,” she said. “Yiayia wouldn’t have done this to me. She wouldn’t send me on this journey to fail.”

The guardians reacted violently to the brooch. Maybe it could help keep them away or help me read the book.

Georgia
held it in front of her, making sure to catch the firelight and as she predicted, pinpoints of light shone around the room. The guardians screamed in pain, as the light caressed their rocky flesh.

This can’t be it.

The guardians had moved towards the opposite end of the chamber for protection, but she knew it was just a matter of time before they would regain their confidence, and she didn’t know how long the salt or the candles would last. She flipped through the still-blank book, testing the brooch’s prism effect in case it might uncover the now hidden text, but nothing she tried seemed to work.

Tears welled in her eyes as she realized she had lost complete control of the situation. She closed the book and hugged it close to her heart.

“Please, Yiayia. Help me. Tell me what I need to do.”

A breeze rustled through the trees and the scent of wild jasmine surrounded her. A single name burned its way through her confusion.

Athena
. The goddess’ name produced a spark in her mind, which blossomed into fireworks as all of the stories Yiayia had ever told her came flooding back.

“Athena, I beg you, help me. I know I’m not worthy to call you from the heavens. Athena, please grant me an audience.
Please
, Athena.”

The guardians surrounded her on all sides; their grotesque mouths open as the rust-colored slime oozed down their torsos and dripped onto the floors, sizzling on impact. One legless guardian scraped its body toward the edge of the circle, its eyes in line with Georgia’s and its once slackened mouth now even more grotesque as it grinned horribly back at her.

“Death, little one,” it said with a gravelly, rock scraping against rock voice. It spoke in a strange dialect of Greek Georgia could follow with some difficulty.

“We shall tear you apart, piece by piece, and feed on you while you scream for mercy.”

Without thinking, she grabbed another handful of salt and flung it at the talking statue.

“Oh, shut up,” she shouted.

The guardian laughed, in spite of the sizzling sores the salt caused. It crawled closer, careful to avoid the circle of stones, then leaned in so the moss-ichor dripping from its wounds seeped onto them. The slime sparked and bit-by-bit ate away at the marble.

In frustration, she threw the remaining salt into its face and the guardian reeled back and fell over screaming.

“Athena, I call to you.” She raised her arms upward. “I beg you to come to my aid.”

She scrambled onto the altar, unhooked the brooch’s sharp pin and, taking a deep breath, jammed it into her palm and scraped it toward her wrist.

“Athena, I give you my pain, my blood, even the most precious object I have, as an offering to you.” She threw the brooch into the fire and raised her head towards the heavens. “Please Athena, hear my call. Come to me, now.”

Georgia
could feel the tears collect in the corners of her eyes. She blinked hard, attempting to keep them deep inside, but she was losing faith. One of the guardians kicked away a marble stone, breaching the protective circle and she waited for what she knew would be a painful death. Looking towards the heavens and kneeling down on the altar, she let her arms drop to her sides, with her palms facing forward. Following her mother’s example, she began reciting the Lord’s Prayer, over and over again.

As her voice echoed off the walls, she saw the white dove that had been watching her from its roost, take flight. It soared into the air, its body taking on a silvery tone and glowing with a shimmering light. The guardians froze. The bird circled the room twice and then made a spiraling dive as it grew in size. Within seconds, it was twice as tall as even the largest guardian; with a wing span double its height. The glow from the dove’s feathered body filled the chamber and the guardians bowed down, moaning and screaming in frustration.

Feathers morphed into flesh, talons melted into legs and the creature’s shape took on a more human female form covered by a long tunic and plates of silver, feathery armor. As the being’s feet touched the ground her wings folded behind her and melted away. The feathers around her face grew into a long mane of dark brown hair. Her head was crowned with a shining silver headpiece.

She pulled out a long sword with a large red jewel at the bottom of the hilt.

“Enough.” The goddess shouted at the guardians, her voice making the very trees tremble at the sound of it. With one enormous thrust, she plunged her sword into the ground and a blast of light shot from it, sweeping over Georgia and beyond the altar. It washed over the guardians, who moaned and shuddered as cracks formed on their exterior shell. The guardians began to glow and there was a moment of deadening silence before they exploded, sending shards of stone in every direction.

Georgia
cowered and covered her head, but when she didn’t feel the impact or any pain, she opened her eyes. The room was filled with flower petals, floating in all directions, reminding her of the military parades she had once seen as a child. There was no trace of the guardians.

She faced the goddess, falling to her knees in gratitude.

The goddess walked closer.

“Child,” Athena began, with a calm and gentle tone. “Why have you summoned me? This modern world has lost its way and I grow weary of seeing its destruction by the hand of man caused by his hunger for war.”

“Forgive me, wise goddess. Forgive a believer, who is not worthy,” Georgia replied.

“Do not be coy with me child. I am no fool. You have taken a journey, fraught with risk. You summoned the guardians of this temple, which is a great feat of magic for someone who knows nothing of such things. I do not know what you are, but I can say with great certainty, you are not unworthy. I see your thoughts as clear as if they were my own. You come here for what was once yours, but was taken away. A birthright.”

“Yes, Athena,” Georgia began. “For as long as I can remember, I have been told of our family’s history. I am told we are descendants of the Muses themselves and I have—”

“You are not the first to beseech me with such claims of glory,” Athena interrupted, examining Georgia. “Why should I believe you, above all of the many who have claimed similar birthrights? Do you dare to believe you are any different from those who are more worthy?”

Knowing her time was limited, Georgia paused, wracking her brain for the right response. She knew Athena was known for her compassion, but she also knew even the compassionate Athena could be temperamental. She reached down and picked up Yiayia’s book.

“In here is our family history,” Georgia said, looking down at the restored pages of her book, which were now filled with the recently missing text and drawings.

Athena interrupted with a dismissive motion of her hand, tearing the book from Georgia’s grip and sending it skidding across the temple floor.

“I know this book. It is full of mere words written on a page. Stories told to a grandchild do not a birthright make. Careful, child, I have damned others for doing much less than wasting my time with fairytales. I once blinded a man, who by accident glanced at me while I bathed in a hidden lake.”

Georgia
’s cheeks burned with embarrassment and tears swelled in her eyes.

Athena stepped closer and took Georgia’s bleeding hand into her own. A tingling warmth washed over Georgia’s wounded hand and she lifted it and watched the wound close up and heal.

“Thank you, Athena. I am who I claim to be, a descendent of the—” Georgia began again.

The room darkened. “Do not waste my time, girl,” the goddess spoke the words through a hiss. “Although no temples are built in my honor anymore, I am even more significant and powerful today than ever.”

Georgia
searched the goddess’ face, trying to understand what Athena wanted, but then her gaze shifted toward what remained of her smoldering herb bundle with the brooch in the middle. Georgia reached for it, surprised to find it cold to the touch. An idea shot through her mind, something Yiayia had said to her about an answer to a question being found in the question itself. She humbly placed the pin on the ground in front of the goddess.

“You know I speak the truth,” Georgia said and Athena glared in response. The room darkened further.

“Forgive me,” Georgia began. “You are wisest among the gods. You said you have continued to receive the prayers of others. That many have called upon you with similar claims of birthrights linking them to the gods.”

Athena’s manner softened. “Yes, they call to me, begging for help. These voices, throughout centuries, beseech me to deliver them from their misery and unto the heavens. I even hear those who walk in the Valley of the Shades.”

Georgia
looked into Athena’s eyes. They were like dark chocolate vats, flickering with flecks of starlight. Keeping her voice steady and unemotional, she said, “I was once told that sometimes the answers I seek can be found in the questions I ask. I ask you, Athena, why me? Out of the thousands you hear, why answer my call?”

If I weren’t speaking the truth
, Georgia thought,
how would a goddess know of Yiayia’s book?
A book handed down for generations to be kept safe. A book containing magic so strong its pages change at will. Athena had to know it was the book giving me directions and spells to take on this journey.

“I was meant to do this,” Georgia continued. “And if I was meant to do this, clearly directed to do it by the gods, then how can you deny me?”

Although the goddess remained still, the room lightened and Georgia continued, “Restore what is rightfully mine. For too long I have wandered with a veil covering my eyes and I beg to have it removed. Forgive me for saying this, but the answer to your question is found in the mere fact that you stand before me, asking it.”

Athena reached down and picked up Georgia’s brooch. It seemed tiny in the goddess’ hand, but glowed brightly, and Athena smiled.