Soul in Darkness (Page 43)

“Your next task begins at sunrise. You will sleep here.”

Famished, I fell onto the dry bread and ate every crumb before gulping down the water, which tasted like a fishy lake. Then I nestled my tired body onto a large bag of wheat with my hand draped across my belly.

“Someone is looking out for us,” I whispered to my unborn child as I thought about the ants, grateful beyond measure. Would I be so lucky next time? If this task was any indication of what was to come, it would only get worse.

SECOND TASK

Cupid

In the next room, his mother hummed a lively tune as she readied herself that morning. Her pitch was perfect, but it grated on his ears.

“What is today’s task?” Cupid called out through the bars.

“Well, my dear, I would tell you, but someone seems to have a habit of interfering.”

Cupid scowled, thinking of her disguise as the old seer. “You interfered first.”

“And now we are even.” She blew him a kiss from the doorway, sending a breeze of lilies his way. He turned his head away from it.

“Mother…”

“Good-bye. I will be certain to relay every detail when I return.”

“Mother!”

Moments later he watched from the window as she gathered Psyche from the storehouse below. Had his mother even fed her? His wife appeared bedraggled and frail in her nightgown, despite how she held up her dainty chin as if filled with purpose. The sight of her caused a chasm to open inside him, rapidly filling with a flood of fear. Cupid tried to shout to her, but his words reverberated back at him like an echo. He cursed and banged the window as the goddess’s chariot took to the skies with his mother and wife, arcing toward the forest of Olympus.

Psyche

If my situation were not so dire, I might have enjoyed the magical chariot ride. It was truly a spectacle worthy of the goddess of beauty. The oversized doves with colorful necks flew and landed with smooth, steady precision. I stepped from the bejeweled carriage into the forest behind the goddess, trepidation stealing my body warmth. I crossed my arms and peered at the trees, but they gave off an ominous air, not the feel of comfort I had felt from Cupid’s trees. Oh, what I would give to have them here right now!

The sound of rushing water came to me, and I saw a river with a meadow and a grove just beyond it. I walked behind Venus to the river’s edge, my heart thrumming. I followed her eyes across the river to where golden-fleeced sheep glittered under the sun. From tiny lambs to mother sheep and large-horned rams, the magical animals idly munched on the grass.

“Here is your second task.” Venus snapped her fingers and a large wooden pail appeared by my feet. “You will cross the river and fill that pail with golden wool.”

I bent to pick up the pail, peering around for sheers or a knife.

The corners of her full lips tipped upward as if knowing what I searched for, and I was hit with the splendor of her beauty, even while she was being cruel. The set of her eyes, cheekbones, and mouth were perfection.

“I shall do it, my goddess. I shall prove myself to you. Thank you for this chance.”

She frowned. “Do not attempt to run away. I will find you.”

“Of course not, great mother of love.”

She made an annoyed sound and turned, gliding away from me back into the trees. Over her shoulder, she said, “As much as I would enjoy staying to watch, I have things to do. I will fetch you after dark.”

Once she was out of sight, I shook out my arms and did a series of meditative breathing. I could do this. The river would be the toughest part. It looked to be deep and fast moving. I would have to swim harder than ever. If only I had my full strength. I shook with hunger and thirst, but I dared not eat or drink anything in Olympus.

I peered out at the sheep, serene and gorgeous with their golden fluff. There had to be more to this. Yes, it would be hard to get wool without shears, but I could tug through with my fingers and pluck it if necessary. The sheep would not be happy, and it would wound my soul to hurt them, but they would survive. So, what was the catch?

Remembering how the river had been enchanted on Cupid’s property, and the trees sentient, I decided to give something a try before I dived into the undertaking. I crouched, petting the mossy grass at the bank while peering down into the blue depths of the gurgling water.

“Hello, magnificent river.” I felt silly but continued anyway. “I would like to cross. I need to get to the glen on the other side to perform a task for the goddess Venus. Will you grant me safe passage? I promise to be as careful and gentle as I can. It will be an honor and a privilege to feel your grand waters around me, like a mother’s embrace.”

All at once, sounds of nature rose up, the whisper of reeds and trickling of water, coming together in harmonious pitches to form intelligible speech. My eyes widened, and I stilled to listen.

“Nay, Nay, Psyche, have a care. These are not gentle sheep. The flock will destroy any who set foot in their grove during the light of day. The rage of bloodlust is their nature.”

My gut gave a violent tremble. “Oh, dear. Are you…a river god?”

“I am. Your passage will be granted when the sun begins to lower, and the animals nestle into sleep. Even then, it is not safe. You will gather your wool from the bushes and trunks of trees where their bodies have brushed.”

“Oh, thank you!” I bent and kissed the wet place where the water met the pebbled sands. The river danced, lapping at my fingers and lips before receding. Now I had to wait out the day and hope I would have enough time to gather bits of wool when the sheep bedded down. I, myself, was sleepy, but I feared the myriad of things that might happen if I napped here. Any creature of Olympus could happen upon me. I could oversleep. It wasn’t worth the risk. I paced the river’s edge, my bare toes loving the contrast of warm pebbles and cool water. Now and then I peeked at the sheep. The rams had taken notice of me, coming closer to their side of the river and sniffing the air, huffing through their noses with looks of evil in their eyes.

Never before in my life had I thought an animal possessed an evil look, even those mountain lions. There was a distinct difference between evil and having a hunting instinct. These creatures were not what they seemed. Their beauty was a deadly lure.

I decided to move closer to the forest as I waited out the day.

Cupid

Cupid paced the cell. And paced. And paced some more. He did not think he would ever forgive his mother for what she was doing to Psyche and his child, and for the demeaning humiliation of being jailed.

He was so busy cursing her name to the edges of Olympus that he almost missed Zephyr outside his window, knocking at the soundproof ward. Cupid nearly leapt from his skin, jumping forward and mouthing to his friend.

“Forest!”

Zep mouthed it back slowly, and Cupid read his lips, nodding. Then the god of love used his hands to pretend to eat and drink. Zep pointed at Cupid in question.

“No.” He shook his head. “My wife. Psyche needs food. And help!”

Zep gave a nod and sped away. Cupid clapped his hands together once, grinning like a boy. Zephyr would be smart and make himself scarce where Venus was concerned. With the god of the west wind on her side, he felt confident Psyche could pass this test, whatever it may be.

Psyche

I never had a chance to scream as a sudden hand was placed over my mouth, and a warm breath of wind coasted past my ear.

“Shh, Psyche, it is Zephyr.”

I spun to face him and held back the urge to hug him. “Oh, I’m so glad to see you!”

He handed me a round of flatbread that had been sliced on one end to be opened and filled. I spied meats, soft cheeses, and sliced vegetables.

I took the gift from his hands and held it to my chest. It took all of my self-control not to scarf it down that very second. He next handed me a pouch of water.

“I cannot stay,” he said. “Venus will feel my winds and be angered. What is your duty here?”

I explained to him my task, and before I could tell him about the river god, he said, “I can fly you across, but not until the golden sheep are asleep. They will devour you. And the river will not take kindly to human touch.”

“About that, I spoke to the river god, and he spoke back to me, promising safe passage.”

Zephyr’s eyebrows drew together as if doubtful. But when he glanced over at the rushing river, a stream of water rose up into the air, formed the shape of a hand, and waved at him. At the look of surprise on Zep’s face, I nearly laughed despite the dire, sour feelings riddling my insides.

“Well, that is…highly unusual,” said the god of the west wind. He raised an eyebrow at me, impressed. “It seems fate is on your side, so I will leave you now. I wish you luck, love of Cupid.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the moniker, though the moment of warmth quickly cooled when I remembered how my mistrust had caused all of this. Zephyr turned and rose in a rush, spinning like a sea funnel before disappearing from sight.

Food and water in hand, I sat amongst the trees and ate every bite. Once finished, I stood and paced to bide the time, glancing anxiously at the sheep every few minutes. Time was a strange thing in Olympus. The sun never moved from overhead. It simply appeared and disappeared, though Cupid did allow it to dim in his land. I wondered how much longer I had until Venus would return, and when the sheep would ever tire of eating and take a rest.