Soul in Darkness (Page 46)

“No more!” Her jaw clenched. “You are a lying, filthy imitation of beauty. I will not listen to your falsehoods for another moment.” She raised a finger and I felt my lips become heavy. I tried and failed to open my mouth, huffing through my nose instead.

The bars of the cell slung open, making me fall to the side to avoid being hit.

“Get up. We leave now. Sorrow and Sadness will escort you to the chariot.” The two waifs came from around the corner, smiling, and I stood as quickly as my sore body would allow. I followed Sorrow as Sadness walked behind me. Neither tried to touch me, though I watched their every move. Even in my wretched state, I would fight them all over again.

When we left the building, I saw we were in a patch of woods out of sight of her grand estate. That meant Cupid had not been nearby after all. A pang of worry filled me as I was herded onto the obscenely picturesque chariot. Where was he? Did he know what was happening? Did he care?

I tried to open my mouth to plead with the goddess to let me see him one last time, to apologize, but it was no use. We lifted into the sky and I left my heart behind.

We departed Olympus, venturing through a brief, strange tunnel of frigid nothingness between worlds. Although I had been watching every step of the way, the entire journey jumbled in my cognizance like a dream as we entered back into Earth’s realm, and there was no way my human mind could have recalled the direction back to Olympus.

We flew above mountains, cities, and villages before coming to rest at the edge of a cliff overlooking rocky shores and rushing, wild ocean. Beside us was a tower of stone. I wanted to ask where we were, but my mouth was still enchanted shut.

I remained still as I watched Venus staring out at the ocean from her high perch in the chariot. She was quiet for a long time before surprising me with soft words.

“All I ever wanted from humans was their love. Their adoration. It does not seem like so much to ask, so difficult a request, being a goddess of Olympus, and yet…” Her hair lifted, shimmering like threads of gold and bronze. I shivered, both from her speech and the sea breeze. “Since the dawn of time I have given much of myself. Each time I place a blessing in a woman’s womb, each time I touch a child’s head with beauty to make their lives a little simpler, or grant love to a widow, their joy and gratitude fill me with hope. Hope that they will remember me. Hope that they will continue to honor me.”

My heart contracted at the mourning in her voice. I could not imagine that existence. Of course, she would be jaded. It was clear from her tone that her efforts were lost and forgotten more often than not. My family was probably one of thousands to do the very same thing. I blinked rapidly to clear my eyes.

“Have you any idea, Psyche,” she went on, “how it feels to be asked to prove yourself over and over again? By those who are beneath you, no less.” She laughed without humor. “Those whose lives you have touched, they will forget you when you go, or betray you if you stay. How stupid your people were to worship you; your beauty is fleeting. Mine is forever.”

I wrapped my arms around myself, a heaviness overtaking my chest. As she spoke, the angry tone faded into a deeper sense of woundedness. My lips were still sealed shut, so I could not respond, even if I had the words. When I thought she was finished, she said one more thing that chilled me.

“I try to love them, to woo their love from them in return, but humans only respect those who lord their power, not those who show love. They want to be afraid, and that is something I will never understand.”

Not all of us, I wanted to say. But she was right, too right. Fear was something we could understand, trust, even cling to, while love was complicated. It required more from us. How long had I held on to my fear in the face of Cupid’s love? It all made me incredibly sad.

Venus turned her head to me. “It is time. I trust you will figure out this journey, Princess Psyche.” She placed the box in my hands. All the negativity was gone from her eyes and demeanor, leaving behind a pure utterance of beauty and love that came off her in pulses of energy, causing my eyes to burn and my heart to race in great thumps.

“I give you two words of advice. The first is not to open the box once you have given it to Proserpina. Its contents are not for the eyes of humans. And secondly, what you seek for your task is in the tower beyond.” I followed her eyes to the ominous, tall tower of stone before she turned her eyes back on me. “Off you go.”

I stepped down, my breaths coming to me in shudders. It was not until she lifted off and left me that my jaw unhinged, and I opened my mouth to fill my chest with fresh air.

I stood there, peering around at my barren surroundings, feeling alone. The goddess’s words came back to me: What you seek for your task is in the tower…

Yes. Of course, it was. I peered over the edge of the cliff. It was possible that if I jumped from here, I would tumble, breaking bones and hurting myself beyond measure, but not die. I eyed the tall tower, and numbness crept through me. When I had shed every bit of emotion, all that was left was an awareness of the chilly air on my exposed skin.

Holding the box with one hand, I lifted the other to my head and my chest heaved at the feel of my chopped hair. Some chunks were three finger-width’s long while others were near my scalp, nipped by the cold air. My hand shook as I brought it down from what was surely a macabre scene on my head.

It matters not, I told myself, because I was fairly certain what Venus wanted me to seek in that tower. You are about to die.

THE TOWER

Psyche

Do not think.

Do not feel.

Keep moving.

What you seek for yourself is in the tower.

I opened the wooden door of the tower with a creak of rusted hinges. Dusty air filled my mouth, and I coughed as I came to the spiral staircase of stone steps and began to climb.

Despite the strong hold I thought I had on my emotions, a tremble began in my core as I ascended. I blamed the pregnancy. At that point, the child was all I cared about, and this was not fair to him or her.

Venus had made it seem as if there was a way to return from the underworld. But would I be in spirit form? Would Proserpina take pity and ask Pluto to return my spirit to my body? What if I decided to turn, right now, and run? Run as far as my worn feet could take me? I paused, the stone steps cool under my bare feet.

How long could I hide from the goddess? Would Cupid look for me? Would he be disgusted by my cowardice? A choked sound ripped from within my chest and my feet began to move again. I kept one hand on my stomach with the box tucked against me, and the other on the wall, leading me up, up, up until I reached the top.

The room at the top was simple and circular, with no furniture and one single window overlooking the sea. Could I do this? Could I jump to my death to get to the underworld?

What you seek for yourself is in the tower.

I moved to the window sill and held the side, looking out. A wave of dizziness hit me, and I clutched the stone sill. A rush of panic made me gasp and lean back. Gods above! I was so high up, the sea a raging ink blot below. I gripped the stones and combed through the words of Venus.

What you seek… What did I seek? I sought a way to complete this task without dying. I sought a life for my child. So, was this a riddle or a cruel impasse?

Venus created all of these hardships for me to face, and even allowed her servants to beat me, but she would not lay a hand on me, much less kill me. The goddess of love could not stomach death and violence. I let out a caustic laugh as the wind whipped my face.

The realization fortified me. If Venus sought my death, she would have to do it or order it herself. I would not take my life or that of my babe. There had to be another way to complete this task, and I would find it.

“Oh, poor wretch.” The voice sounded ancient and gritty like stones grinding together.

I turned, stumbling away from the open window onto my bruised and swollen knees.

“Who is there?” I called, wincing and pushing to my feet as my eyes scanned the empty space.

“I am the watchtower of Taenarus. Why dost thou forsake thy life?”

The tower was speaking to me? Would there never be an end to the wonders? The tower believed I had come to jump.

I swallowed hard. “I must complete a task for the goddess Venus. In the underworld.”

“Mortal, if thy spirit be separated from thy body, thou shalt never return.”

My gut clenched in anguish. “She advised me to come to this tower. She could only mean for me to die.”

The rumbling chuckle made me want to cover my ears. “Or to speak with me.”

My pulse began to race beneath my skin. “Why, honorable tower, would she want us to speak?”

“Because I can tell thee how to reach thy destination with thou soul and body intact.”

Was it possible?

“Listen and heed, for I weary of speech.”

I went very still, focusing with all my might, afraid to hope.

“Venture to the city of Lacedaemon, where thou will obtain two coins for the Charon to ferry thou across the River Styx, and two sop cakes—one to give Cerberus to allow thy entrance into the palace of Pluto—and one to be allowed out. When thou returneth to Taenarus, thou wilt find a hole in the cliff where none dare to risk. This is the entrance for souls into those infernal shades. The underworld is a treacherous place with souls full of avarice. Guard thy coins and sops, for the spirits will attempt to steal from thee. Now, go.” His booming voice softened. “And be well.”