Muse Unexpected (9 page)

Sophie snorted. “We’re insane. That’s got to be it. Either I’m nuts or this is a dream. And I’m leaning towards crazy. I mean I’ve always
known
you lived on the border of Crazytown, but not me.”

“Sophie,” Callie started, but Sophie motioned for her mother to not say a word.

“Muses?” she said, twisting a piece of her hair as if the action could help yank out a better understanding of what her grandmother said. “Muses don’t exist. They’re not real. They don’t even make decent movies about them. The only Muses I know are from that sucky movie you made me watch where they were on roller skates and wore peasant blouses and leg warmers. So if you think I’m about to throw on a pair of skates and feather my hair, you’re crazier than I thought. Out of all of the supernatural secrets my family had to sprout from, I get to be part of the losers of Greek mythology. Muses are so lame. Please just tell me you guys are kidding.”

Callie shrugged. “You don’t understand how much I wish it were so. There were moments in Ohio when I began to believe the lie I told myself. That Muses were left in mythology, as mere explanations to what was unexplainable for the ancient Greeks. But that’s the thing. They—I mean—we…exist. We’re Muses. We’re not vampires or fairies. We’re not werewolves, nor witches, and trust me, there were moments I wished we were, but we’re not insane. We’re Muses.” Callie sat down on the couch, motioning for her daughter to join her.

Sophie walked toward the couch and sat with her back to her mother on the farthest possible edge.

“I’ve always known what we were,” Callie said. “It’s not like Georgia would ever let me think about anything else.” Callie sighed out a deep breath. “Sophie, I didn’t have a normal childhood like you. I grew up always knowing I had a role to fulfill and each day Georgia took great pains to make sure I walked the path she thought I should walk. I knew I was expected to live a certain way and dedicate myself to…” she paused and smirked, “to the family business. I was raised to be obedient and being a Muse required great sacrifice. When I, like you, went through the change, the pressure to live up to Georgia’s expectations was like being crushed.”

Sophie looked at her mother. “Why is she so horrible? She wasn’t like this back in Ohio. She was nice. A bit strange, but nice, and what the heck is a Demigod?”

“Well, I wish I knew why she is so strict, but I’ve never known her not to be.” Callie laughed nervously. “I believe she is that way because she has to be. Georgia has a lot of responsibility. I’m not making excuses for her, but the responsibility takes its toll on her. Everything in our world has its cost. Unfortunately, with Georgia the cost comes across in being cruel and controlling. But, she always means well. And since we are now living under her roof, we’re going to have to walk on eggshells a bit until we figure out what we’re going to do.”

“So what happened that made you a not-so-obedient daughter?”

“Your father happened. Being a Muse requires a woman to give up so much. She serves as a vessel for inspiration.”

“A vessel? I don’t…”

“A topic for another time, but let’s just say falling in love isn’t part of the deal, or at least not with someone who isn’t part of our world.” Callie, paused and mumbled, “They had to be part of Olympus.”

Sophie shook her head in confusion. “So you’re telling me the whole Mount Olympus, gods and goddesses, Centaurs, Gorgons with snakes for hair is all true? Please tell me some of it is made up.”

“It’s very real,” Callie began. “This world,
our
world, isn’t simple. It’s not good or bad. It all depends on many factors. There was a time things were black and white, but things have changed. We’ve evolved as a community. So, picture me as a young woman, dedicated to her work and always listening to whatever her mother said and doing with complete perfection what she was told to do. She had accepted that she would be told what she should think, what she should wear, how she should act and even whom she should talk to. An arranged marriage to an Olympian was in her future. And as you will come to know or maybe you already do from the many myths I’ve read to you, Olympians
do not
make great husbands. This woman would be told whether or not she would have children – and if it was so deemed she would have children, she'd be told how they would be raised. One controlled day after another would pass by until the day she died. Imagine what that life would be like.”

“It would be a sucky arranged marriage kind of life.” Sophie said and leaned back into the depth of the couch.

“And it did suck. I hated my mother, hated this Vasilikós, and hated living in a world that existed behind the scenes, injecting myself into the lives of others for the briefest of moments, but never truly living a life of my own. But then, one night I met your father and everything changed. We fell in love and for a Muse love isn’t part of the deal. People fall in love with us, not the other way around. Georgia and I got into such fights about it, but I wouldn’t budge.

Your father and I came up with a plan and we eloped in the middle of the night. I had planned for all sorts of Georgia’s tricks, but there were no surprises. The Vasilikós was quiet and off we went, thanking God it had been so easy. We thought we were lucky.” Callie’s voice trailed off and Sophie reached over and held her mother’s hand.

“Mom, you have to know all of this is so unbelievable. What am I supposed to think? Just a few moments ago, I was living in Columbus, Ohio, wondering whether or not I would pass my next Advanced Placement statistics class. And now I’m physically changed, which I guess could be explained away, but for you to suggest the myths are real. I don’t know. Did dad know what you were?”

Callie shook her head. “No. I was very careful. But being careful meant I couldn’t use my powers and perhaps we struggled more than the average couple, due to my forsaking my gifts. If I had a dime for every time I cursed Georgia, so sure in my mind that she did everything she could to make our life hard, but I knew she had nothing to do with it. Once we were married, Georgia left us alone.”

Sophie wiped tears from her eyes.

“Oh sweetie, we were so happy. Your father and I had each other and that was enough and when you came, well, it was complete bliss. But, I was kidding myself and it kills me to say this, but once again I was doing what Georgia expected me to do.”

Sophie nodded. “You had me.”

“Yes,” Callie said. “And now, you’re—”

Sophie faced her mother. She thought for the first time in her life she saw her. Yes, her mother was still the same beautiful, loving, pain-in-her-butt, complete and utter nag she’d always been. But Sophie now saw that, like everyone else, her mother wasn’t perfect. In fact she was
far
from perfect. Her mother had made mistakes. In this moment, Sophie felt the closest she ever had to Callie.

“I’m like you,” Sophie said, putting her hands into her mother’s, giving them a hard squeeze. She leaned into Callie, wrapping her mother’s arms around her and laying her head below the woman’s chin. In response, Callie held her daughter, kissing the top of the girl’s head several times.

“So this is what it feels to be a size two,” Sophie joked. “Nice perk.”

Callie laughed. “You know, Sophie, I am so tired. I’m tired of crying and I’m tired of running.”

“Well, then, stop,” Sophie said, sitting up. “Why don’t you start at the beginning and work your way back."

***

Sophie followed her mother into a large gallery that opened into a reading room with stone floors, overstuffed couches and chairs, and huge oriental rugs. Her eyes were drawn to a painting of a young Georgia dressed in a goddess gown, draped over a Grecian fainting couch. She was caught mid-laugh, one arm lay across the highest point of the couch.

Callie motioned for Sophie to sit down at an ornately carved library table.

In front of them sat a large glass box with heavy iron hinges. Detailed grapevines and a single Greek word were etched into the center of the glass lid.

µÅ»¿³·¼½¿Â

“It means blessed,” Callie stated.

Inside the case was a book with cracked leather bindings. Sophie was sure the book would crumble at the slightest touch. Callie removed the book from its case, causing a puff of dust to drift into the air, making Sophie wrinkle her nose.

Callie began, “Many years ago, my mother and I sat in these same chairs and began the journey you and I are about to begin. You are expected to learn and adopt the teachings of our people. For example, Muses are part of the Demigod society, and as part of this community we do not judge on appearances or preconceived notions because both can be deceiving. Demigod means half mortal, half Olympian.”

Callie rested her palm on the old book in front of them, and Sophie watched as her mother’s hand began to glow. The light seemed to penetrate the book itself, seeping over its top, soaking into its worn leather and crumbling pages, appearing to restore it back to new.

“This is one of the prized possessions of our family,” Callie said.

Sophie couldn’t help but smirk. “Muses are supposed to be these powerful creatures and one of our most prized possessions is a book?”

“This isn’t just a book. It’s a living portal to our people’s past and a source of incredible power. It can also provide glimpses into your future, if it desires to do so.”

Sophie took a deep breath; getting bored with the lead-up to what she was sure would be a big disappointment. “You make it sound like it’s alive? So, does it have pictures that move, like in
Harry Potter
?”

Callie placed the book in front of Sophie, “It depends on the person holding it. For every person, it tends to react differently. ”

For a good ten seconds, Sophie sat there, staring at the book, not wanting to touch the thing.

“Sophie, it’s just a book,” Callie said, opening it and turning it to face her daughter. The book’s pages were filled with a beautiful script and a hand-drawn boarder, accented by numerous jewel-toned inks. Callie placed her hand on the center of the page and sang a Grecian chant, rocking back and forth with her eyes closed. Sophie was puzzled.

Almost snakelike, the script on the book’s open pages began to move, unraveling itself. Sophie was fascinated yet unnerved. The slithering ink seemed trapped by the page’s boarder, but much to Sophie’s horror, the ink caressed her mother’s pinky and curled back onto itself before springing like a viper, wrapping itself around Callie’s hand, wrist and arm. It created a moving tattoo on her mother’s arm and Sophie yelped as she attempted to scramble from her seat. Callie abruptly stopped chanting and grabbed hold of Sophie’s arm, holding her in place.

Callie opened her eyes and Sophie cringed. Her mother’s eyes were now coated with a thick white film and all of her exposed skin was now covered in the moving ink. Callie’s eyes filled with the ink. She grinned and the ink seeped out of her teeth and gums, both of which were stained black.

“This is a first,” Callie laughed, the ink continuing to seep out of her mouth and before Sophie could react, the tendrils rushed forward from Callie, arching high into the air and slamming on top of the two women, submerging them in an ocean of black.

Sophie opened her eyes to find herself in a place so dark she couldn’t see the floor, walls or ceiling. A breeze rustled her hair and the ink’s darkness swept away like fallen leaves. With the ink gone, what was left was a white void. Her mother stood next to her.

Callie smiled at her daughter. “We’re in the Oracle’s realm. She must be drawn to you.”

“Great. Lucky me. What’s next, some coffee and pastry? Can’t wait to see what happens next,” Sophie said.

The space seemed endless, lacking any boundaries.

“You’ll have to excuse me.” A woman’s voice came forth from the void in front of them. It spoke in velvety richness and sounded musical. “Forgive me for saying, but isn’t it proper etiquette to call first before dropping in. I believe I read it somewhere in a book.” The voice burst into laughter. “Oh my, you see, even after numerous millenniums of existence, I still have a brilliant sense of humor.”

Sophie glanced at her mother and slipped her shaking hand into Callie’s, giving it a squeeze. Although it had not been there a few seconds ago, a large white dressing table with a huge mirror appeared out of nowhere in front of them.

Mom, I swear, don’t you dare walk me towards that thing. I don’t want to go near it, whatever it is.

Callie led them towards the object. Sophie realized it wasn’t real, but was a detailed hand drawing of a dressing table. Or rather an invisible artist was drawing it right before them. The mirror didn’t face them and the faint sounds of movement came from behind it, while multiple lines continued to appear out of nowhere. Once the dressing table was finished, the unseen artist began working on the surroundings. A pale white hand reached for a drawn silver hairbrush.