8: Fragile Human Bullshit

I closed the door to the steps behind me; Orthus was nowhere to be seen. I knew I had offended him; part of me didn’t care. For a month, I was here, trapped. My plans for revenge, to reclaim my home, were thwarted. I knew it was through no fault of the Summer King that I must wait, but I let my anger get the best of me. I thought back to how I had laid my cards bare, hugging the fae male with joy when I thought he had brought me to the fairy pool to go home. I felt so stupid to jump to conclusions then. The memory of our bodies pressing together brought a strange warmth to my chest. I tried to quell it, to push it down. I should have let him comfort me. The trauma I had been through these past few days turned my heart hard. I had never born such grief as this— Maybe I owed myself more patience. I promised myself that I would take this month and become stronger, more intelligent, anything I could to help me seek my revenge.

I took turn after turn incorrectly; my mental map-making skills were not as excellent as hoped.  The service halls of the estate wound in patterns that didn’t seem logical. Logic didn’t seem particularly important here in Summer, everything was far more magical. Eventually, I found my bearings and returned to the grand foyer. Vasileios and Penelope were draped over velvet green chaises opposite each other. The female fae leaned against the back of the chaise, thumbing her scarred hands through the pages of a large book. Her legs were tucked neatly underneath her frame, her tongue escaping her lips in concentration. Vas sat with a blade, sharpening it on a stone on his thick muscular thighs. He no longer wore the armor of the sparring ring but the same blue robes that Orthus wore on our first meeting. His dark skin shone in the light of the hearth as though he had just bathed, still slightly damp with water. They were both deep in concentration.  I padded towards the staircase, trying desperately not to be heard— I’ve had more than my fill of confrontation today. I made it to the second step before that hateful squeaky tread betrayed me, the wood groaning loudly under my foot.

“Off to sour anyone else’s mood, human?” Vas asked. I snapped my head back at him incredulously.

“What are you talking about?” His gaze narrowed as he stood from his work and walked toward me. I did my best to puff out my chest; at least on this second step, I was almost as tall as him. I wouldn’t let him intimidate me—Not if I was going to be stuck in this house for the next month.

“Orthus is brooding away in his office,” He shook his finger at my chest angrily, “You know we’re just now getting him back. Sure, you’re cute, but I don’t get the appeal- why waste all that drama on such a short little life? I’d appreciate it if you could keep your fragile human bullshit to yourself.” I gaped at him as he reprimanded me. I opened my mouth but closed it again.

Don’t piss him off. I thought. I truly didn’t need any enemies here- even though he made my skin crawl.

“Vas, come off it. I’m sick of fighting you today. Orthus is prone to melancholy—“

She pushed her tight curls off her forehead in exasperation. “You know that! Who’s to say Cordelia had anything to do with it.?” Nelo closed her book, surveying the scene we created. The room felt something like a pot nearly ready to boil over.

“It’s the last thing he needs, another tragic little human to worry about.” He sneered at me, “Maybe we can just let him fuck you and get that other woman out of his system; your kind seems to be where his tastes lie.” The insult erupted from his mouth, the spectacle such a contrast to his perfect face. I backed up another step.

“You’re crossing a line, Vas! I won’t let you speak to her that way again.” Nelo stood but didn’t approach. Her voice was stern, a warning. Vasileios’s manner shifted. He smiled, and it made me shiver unexpectedly.

“Nelo, you’re just as bad as Orthus—She won’t replace Circe; no one could even come close—“

“ENOUGH!” Nelo yelled, stomping over towards him. Rage rolled behind her eyes. I had never seen her angry; she was always so kind and patient with me. Her finger absentmindedly curled a glowing fiber. It sparked as it wrapped its way around her hand. Nelo was priming her magic for an attack. Vasileios eyed the magical thread, and with an annoyed sigh put his hands up in the air, a truce.

“Fine, enjoy your time here...” My vision blurred as he spoke, “…Summer welcomes you with open arms….” I could barely make out the male’s shape, his arms spread open, dipping into a deep bow. The warmth spread again through my body; my stomach turned as the vibration near my neck began. Not another memory, not now.

“Shit,” was the only word I could get out before falling entirely and helplessly into Vasileios’s arms.

✳✴✳

I was young again in this memory— the smell of fresh hay filled my nostrils. My body opened its eyes and saw the sun streaming into the barn through cracks in the thatched roof. Dust particles were floating sleepily through the rays of light. I was lying on my back in the hayloft of our barn, right above the ram’s pen. I used to love coming up here, even though I had been warned several times to stay out. The floorboards of the loft area had dry-rotted and weren’t as sturdy as they used to be. I loved it, though, and would sneak up into its quiet warmth, despite our sheep’s faint odor of dung. There were few places I could be alone in our tiny cottage; my mother was always working on some task in our home. I remember craving independence. Pain tugged at my heart now though—Independence from my family. I had that forever now, didn’t I?

My body raised itself to sit, humming some song I’d long since forgotten. I usually was careful to avoid the dry rotted bits of the floor in the hayloft, but it seems they had spread further than I realized as the season passed. The song on my body’s lips cut short as the boards gave out, and I fell two stories below, rotted wood gauging my back, putting me square onto the wire fence that held the sheep in its pen below. The pain was so intense- for both my body and me as a passenger; Why did I also feel this physical pain? My screams had jolted my father from whatever task had occupied him before I fell. He didn't scold me but was worried about my injuries. "Stay still, darlin’. Did you hit your head?" My body said no; its cries were evening a bit. "Can you wiggle your toes and move your fingers?" I did as instructed. He breathed a sigh of relief through his nose with a nod. "I think your back being gouged might be the worst of it. I wish you would be more careful, my girl." I felt my father’s worn hand go to my back, blood slowly seeping through the fabric with the contact of his palm. My body looked up to his face, and I soaked up every detail of him; this memory, although painful, it at least allowed me to be held by my father one more time. My body pulled her arms around my father’s neck and nestled her small chin into his chest. She cried as he lifted us. Even though the pain seared through my body’s back, even though I knew this wasn’t real, I was happy for a moment. The sparking feeling of transportation began again. Just a few more seconds! I begged the universe, this magic—just anything to be here a bit longer with my father. The whoosh of hot wind whipped around me, and I gripped harder around my father’s neck.

I felt my hands gripping harder… My hands, not those of the memory. I was back in control of my body. I opened my eyes and looked up to see the face of a shocked Vasileios. His own body was rigid as he held me, my arms still tight around his neck.  “I— I—“ The words refused to come from my lips. This fae, this person I hated, broke his eye contact with me and began to walk up the stairs. I was small in his arms, and it was no effort for him to do so. I heard Nelo’s footsteps behind us. He nudged the door of my room open with his knee and laid me down gently into my silk-covered bed. My limbs still had that static feeling of transportation from the vision. Although he refused to look at me, I couldn’t break my gaze from his face. Once his hand left the one remaining point of contact between our bodies, he let out a fierce breath and turned his heel to make his way out of the room. Nelo sat softly on the other side of the bed. She put her hand on my arm and spoke softly.

Illustrations by Ana Kajaia

“Another vision?” She asked me. I just nodded, in shock that the Vasileios had even bothered to catch me, in grief that time with my father had been so short. I turned away from her, pulling a large blanket over my body. Nelo kept speaking, but my ears dulled its noise, making her seem distant. This was all too much; I needed space; I needed not constantly to be keeping my guard up around these creatures. I wanted home and my family. I could have one of those things in 30 days. It would be an eternity to wait. Nelo’s hand left my shoulder; she walked towards my bedroom door, turned, and looked at me with a half-smile before shutting it. I closed my eyes to stop the flow of tears that would soon follow.