But then they were both on me, turning me to my stomach on the floor, pinning my arms to my sides. One of them yanked my head up by the hair and smashed the side of my face into the floor. The pain radiated out from my cheekbone, across my scalp, and down through my body.
“Be still!” one of them raged at me.
With a sob of frustration and pain, I went limp, loathing the feeling of defeat.
And then the haircut began, and I screamed anew. I felt them grabbing great chunks of my thick locks, tugging against my scalp as the shears made their grinding snips. When they nipped the edge of my ear, sending another fiery burn of pain through my body, I struggled again, shrieking with fury, trying to turn, but it was useless. They giggled maniacally at my efforts.
“Such an improvement, would you not say so, Sorrow?”
“Oh, yes, dear sister. Masterful skills on your part. And now I get to do her makeup.”
They turned me roughly, and I caught sight of my piles of hair as I felt the cool ground against parts of my scalp. My face was streaked with tears of anger. When Sorrow leaned over me with a pot of something red, I spat in her face. Her soulless eyes widened, and she bared her sharp teeth before leaning in to bite my shoulder. My back arched and fought with every muscle in my body, but Sadness was on top of me, feeling as if she weighed five times her actual weight, her skinny hands gripping my wrists with the power of ten soldiers.
When Sadness finally let up on my shoulder, I felt the warm rush of blood seeping out, through my dressing gown. My eyes fluttered as a wash of pure exhaustion came over me, my body trembling. She roughly rubbed strange creams in circles over my cheeks, then smeared some sort of powder on my eyelids. Lastly, they slathered paint across my lips.
“And now she is properly fit to see our lady of love,” one of them said.
I tried to shuffle upward and crawl to the door when they released me, but they were too quick, and I was far too slow. I ached everywhere. Taking stock of the damage done, the pile of blood-soaked hair was the least of my worries. In my burst of energy while fighting, I had not felt my body being banged against walls and the floor, but now I felt every bit of it: every scratch, welt, and bruised piece of flesh. The worst was my cheekbone and eye, which were swelling, causing me to squint on that side. And my shoulder…great Hades. Those vile witches.
I sat against the wall and ripped the bottom of my dressing gown, which was already in tatters, pressing the handful of fabric to my shoulder to staunch the flow of blood. After a long moment, my hand began to fall as my eyes drooped. I knew I needed to stay alert, but my body begged for rest. An ache had begun in my head, and I had to close my eyes. I brought up a hand and wiped at my mouth, smearing red paint all over the back of my hand. I let my arm drop.
I’m not sure how long I dozed before a small intake of breath woke me. I tried to open my eyes, but only one would cooperate. I lifted a hand and felt the right side of my face completely swollen and tender to the touch. I hissed at the contact, then peered up at the bars of my cell with my good eye.
Venus, in all her magnificent glory, stared down at me in shock and something else—pity? The look was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a sneer.
“You should not have attempted to fight them, mortal.”
My lips pursed. “Would you not fight if two strange women attempted to cut your hair?”
She glowered. “I would never have done something so awful as to put myself in your position.”
I looked down, shame filling me.
“Shall I call Cupid in?” she asked in an overly-sweet tone.
Call him in? Was he walking about the property? Disgrace continued to fill me, this time at the thought of him seeing me degraded in this way. Would he be disgusted? Did a small part of him feel I was getting what I deserved for disobeying him? Gods, I had taken a knife from my sister and kept it under my pillow! How betrayed he must have felt! I turned my head aside and closed my eye.
“No,” I whispered.
“You do not wish to see him?” she asked.
I wanted more than anything to see him, but did he want to see me? He was a god, and not just any god. The god of desire. He could have any woman, and yet I had feared him and taken him for granted, breaking one of his simplest rules. It must have felt like a slap to his face. No, I could not blame him for not coming to me here, but neither could I handle his rejection face-to-face right now. The thought of it hurt worse than every physical ailment I suffered at that moment. I shook my head slowly, carefully. She tsked and sighed.
“Very well. I will give you this day and night to heal. You leave in the morning.”
“Where will I go, goddess?” My eye opened, but she said nothing. With a flick of her finger, a piece of brown bread and water appeared at my side, and she glided out of the room, leaving me to ponder my fate and deal with my pain.
I took small bites of the dry bread until it was all gone, and then I drank the murky water, my throat hoarse from screaming. Overwhelmed in every way, with my heart broken at the knowledge of what I had thrown away, I curled up in the corner and slept like the dead.
BEAUTY NO MORE
Psyche
What is going on? Gods, my head! I winced from the stabbing pain, and then gasped from the strain the small movement had brought. The events from yesterday tumbled through my memory like sharp rocks.
From my place on the floor in the corner, I lifted my heavy head and peered toward the bars of my cell. My eye was still swollen but it had gone down enough for me to crack it open. The rest of my body hurt even worse than before.
Venus stood, unsmiling, looking down at me. Her presence was a glowing, colorful haze, like a misty rainbow against a soiled background. My hair on the floor was now a drab, raggedy pile, the blood a dark stain. I glanced to the side at my shoulder long enough to see scabby teeth marks through my torn gown.
“I almost pity you,” Venus muttered. “But then I recall how you stole from me and broke my son’s heart.”
There wouldn’t be a day of my remaining life or afterlife when I did not regret both of those things. I moved to my aching knees with considerable effort, then lowered my torn hands and blotched face to the ground.
“I never meant to hurt either of you, goddess, I swear it. And I fell in love with him, not knowing he was a god. Even when I believed him a monster, my heart knew better. I will be sorry all of my days.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “You will, I am afraid.” But she seemed to have lost a bit of the anger she’d held so close. Still, I kept my head down, afraid to raise her ire again, until I heard her say, “Eat.”
I raised my head enough to see the brown bread and cup of water again, so I did as she said, taking great pains to remain on my knees as I ate. She waited quietly without moving.
When I finished, the meager meal sat in my stomach like a wet stone as I awaited further instruction.
“Today,” she said softly, “you will fetch something for me.” She paced, gliding with grace from one end of the bars to the other as she explained.
“I have lost a touch of my luster while dealing with this situation. As a goddess, I can give and receive beauty from other goddesses. You will take this box to my dear friend Proserpina, goddess of agriculture, and tell her I require the immortal beauty ointment.” An ornate box appeared in her hands, and my heart gave a start. Proserpina? But she was the wife of Pluto, god of the underworld. She spent half of the year in Olympus and the other half in Hades. Surely, she was in Olympus at the moment.
A tired smile appeared on Venus’s lush lips, and I knew, without a doubt, she was asking me to go into Hades.
“But goddess, Beautiful One, h-how will I get there? Please instruct me, and I shall do anything you ask.”
“You are a smart human, are you not? Did your parents not grant you the best of tutors? I am certain you can figure out how to get to the underworld.” And there it was. What she had wanted all along.
The only way to
enter the underworld was to die.
I was shockingly calm, as if my body had known all along and had accepted this fate before my mind had.
“Worthy Venus,” I whispered. “How will I return to give you the ointment?” Nobody who died ever left the underworld. By the way her small smile spread, she knew this as well and was not concerned about the box or its contents.
“I am sure you will find a way. You have come this far.”
My head was so heavy. It took too much energy to hold it up, so I let it fall to my chest as I muttered in anguish.
“Why not kill me yourself, goddess? I have displeased you. You have every right to punish me, even take my life if that is what you wish.”
“I am the goddess of fertility. I give life,” she said as if offended by such a question. “I do not take it.”
An accidental giggle bubbled out of me and she glared. I covered my mouth. This was what I knew of gods. They were master wordsmiths. With them, everything was semantics. Venus had orchestrated every event that would lead to my death; however, she would take no responsibility for my actual loss of life. It had not been her hand to hurt me in any way, or to kill me. I dropped the fingers from my mouth and looked her straight in the eye.
“Even without your blessing, I love your son. I will love him every day of my life and eternal death. And our child, your grandbaby…” I clutched my stomach. “Its blood is on your hands, no matter how far removed you are from the events that will kill us.”
Her eyes brightened like the bluest depths of a flame. “Silence, foolish girl. You have been clever thus far. Have you no confidence remaining in your waste of a body? Oh, if your people could see you now. You are no beauty.” She spat the words as if they could hurt me, but I shook my head, lifting my chin.
“It is you who cares about beauty, not me. I would choose to look this way every day of my life if it meant I could birth this child for Cupid before I die.”
Her voice rose. “You only gave your body to my son so you could use a child to manipulate me!”
“That is not true! I would never do such a thing! He earned my trust and my heart, even before my mind was willing to admit it, and what we shared was real—”
“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 th
e 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.
Soul in Darkness Page 24