The uncle peered closer at it, too. "Strange. It does look like her." But then he shrugged and placed his hand upon the back of his guest. "If it meets with your liking, we shall transport it today in time for the opening. Now, if you would come this way to my office, we can arrange for payment."
As they left, no one glanced back. If they had, they would have rubbed their eyes and sworn that they saw the statues smile.
* * *
To this day, many have stood in awe of Galatea's statues. They wonder at the detail, exclaiming that the marble is so lifelike, you can almost see the heartbeat of the two lovers pounding in the veins of the stone. They say that depending on how the light catches the faces, the expression changes from unadulterated joy, to deep passion, to contented love. But all who gaze upon the statues say they leave feeling a depth of contentment and peace settle into their bones that they have never known before.
Once, by the light of the moon, a young teenage boy snuck into the temple to leave flowers at the feet of the lovers. He returned the next day, his task uncompleted. Even as he brought the temple priests to Galatea's statues to prove his point, he insisted that the pedestal had been empty the night before and that he had heard the sound of mirthful laughter echoing across the hills.
* * *
Author's Note:
In 1996, I visited the MET museum in New York City for the very first time. Hanging there was Jean-Léon Gérôme painting of Pygmalion and Galatea and I fell instantly in love. I bought the postcard (it was all I could afford at the time) and it hung on my dorm room wall for the rest of my college career. There was a story there that I wanted to tell, but as the years passed, I could never quite figure out what it was.
When invited to participate in this anthology, I was actually in New York at the MET, staring at that exact same painting. The timing made me wonder if maybe, finally, I should excavate the visceral connection I had to the painting and explore what it says to me. The classic story of Pygmalion and Galatea is an ancient one that has been told for over a thousand years. It is the story of a sculptor who is so disillusioned by humanity that he swears off love forever. But it is through his art that he rediscovers this tender emotion and begs that his statue be brought to life. It has been retold countless times, sometimes cynically, sometimes hopefully, probably most famously by George Bernard Shaw in Pygmalion (which was adapted to My Fair Lady.) More often than not, though, it is told from the male's point of view.
I wondered what the story would look like if the roles were reversed. My Galatea and Pygmalion is a jazz riff on the stories that have come before it, a play on the themes and ideas explored in other, much greater artists', work. It is another angle, another chip off of a marble block to try and discover the true form which lies beneath.
Find out more about my books at http://www.katedanley.com/
Red - Sarra Cannon
Chapter 1
My little sister whimpered and clutched at her arms. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her hair was soaked.
“Come on, Rayla,” I said, holding my hands in front of me in prayer. I could hardly stand to watch her go through this, but I couldn’t leave her side. “Wake up. You’ve got to wake yourself up.”
When she was in this dream state, it was extremely dangerous for anyone else to wake her, but we’d tried to teach her several tricks for how to wake herself up when she was stuck in one of her more dangerous visions.
She moaned and kicked her legs, but her eyes remained closed.
I shook my head and stood up, wanting to punch something. It wasn’t fair. Rayla was only eight years old. How could the coven simply turn their back on someone so young and innocent?
It’s for the greater good.
I’d heard that statement enough times now to hear it echoed in my head for all eternity. I didn’t give a shit about the greater good if it meant letting a sweet little girl endure torture like this.
So far, she’d been lucky enough to wake up without too many injuries, but I’d heard stories about others. Girls who had not been so lucky. Some of them went to sleep and either never woke up, or woke up with burns or slashes across their bodies so damaging that they couldn’t recover.
I had to do something. I couldn’t let that happen to my little sister, no matter what the rest of the coven said. They weren’t the ones left behind to take care of her when our parents died in that bombing downtown.
Rayla was my responsibility and had been for the past three years. I’d just turned eighteen the month before they died, so I was given sole custody of my sister. She was my life, now. I wasn’t going to let her die.
Not like this.
“Charlotte?”
I turned at the sound of her weak voice, my eyes instantly flooding with tears of gratitude.
I knelt by her side and grabbed her hands. “I’m here,” I said. “Was it a bad one?”
She nodded. Her lips were chapped, and there were faint scratches all over her arms. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to cause pain.
I kissed her hand and reached for a glass of water, helping her sit up so she could drink.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.
She looked away.
I knew better than to push her too hard. If she didn’t want to talk about it, it was best just to leave it for another day. It was only four in the morning, but there would be no more sleep tonight.
“Should I make tea?” I asked.
She squeezed my hand. “In a minute,” she said. “But I have something important I need to tell you.”
I leaned closer and brushed the hair away from her face. A sweaty strand stuck to her skin.
“What is it, love?”
“I saw something tonight,” she said. “Something that could change everything for me.”
I straightened and dropped her hand. She’d never told me anything like this before. She would sometimes discuss the monsters she’d faced or the types of people she encountered in her dreams, but she didn’t like to talk about anything that related to us or our future.
“I need you to do something for me,” she said, her eyes staring straight into mine without blinking. My heart nearly stopped from fear.
“Anything,” I said. “You know that.”
“It could be very dangerous,” she said.
“Will it help to keep you safe?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Then tell me,” I said.
And I meant it.
I would do whatever I could to keep her safe. Even if it cost my own life.
Chapter 2
Shadows fell across the forest floor, and I ran from tree to tree, trying my best to stay invisible in the darkness. I’d never been so far outside the city, and I was terrified of the noises out here. Wild animals unlike anything that lived inside the city limits.
I’d grown up my whole life in Los Angeles, and other than trips to the beach or the park, I’d never been out in what anyone would have called “nature”. I preferred the concrete jungle, because it was familiar.
But Rayla had seen this place very clearly in her visions, and so far, everything looked exactly like she’d said it would.
Like me, my little sister had never left the noisy streets of the city and the suburbs. The only time she’d ever seen a forest and mountains like this would have been on TV or in a movie, but she’d described this exact location down to the curve of the trees and the sound my boots made when they stepped across the leaves.
Somewhere around here, there should be a house. It didn’t make much sense, because there was no road anywhere close to here that I could tell. No roads, no worn paths, nothing. The forest appeared completely undisturbed.
But Rayla had said it would be here. A cabin with only a single room and small porch out front with three steps leading up. There would be no lights shining from inside and no smoke or fire coming from the chimney. The windows would be closed and boarded shut, as if no one had remembered it existed for many decades.
She hadn’t told me what I’d find inside. Only that it would be the key to saving her.
A bird screeched, the sound echoing through the trees and nearly sending me backwards a few feet. I leaned against a tree to catch my breath, my heart racing.
I laughed and shook my head. There was nothing to be afraid of. Just a few animals.
There was no moon at all tonight, and I’d been using a small flashlight I found in a drawer in my father’s old room, but the light was growing dim and I hadn’t thought to bring extra batteries.
I beat the flashlight against the heel of my hand, hoping to wake it back up, but the light went out completely, leaving me in total darkness until my eyes could adjust.
I took a deep breath and slid the flashlight into the pocket of my favorite red hoodie. I could handle this. Witchcraft 101, right?
I lifted my right palm and closed my eyes. I calmed the furious beating of my heart and exhaled, blocking out all the other sounds around me. Slowly, I felt the pull of the earth. The current that ran under my feet and all around me.
The power of nature.
I dipped into that power, connecting with it until the hum of it ran through my veins.
I imagined an orb of light hovering above my palm, and within seconds, the light was there. I opened my eyes and smiled. See? Not so bad for a witch who’d been mostly out of practice for the past few months.
I’d been spending so much of my time and energy taking care of Rayla that I’d completely neglected my duties for the coven. There were whispers and rumors about the Prima losing her patience with me, but I didn’t care. If she wanted me to be a better witch for the ruby gates, she should have agreed to help protect my sister.
I stepped forward with my orb of light, shaking off thoughts of the Prima and the other witches of my coven. So far, I hadn’t done anything bad enough to attract the attention of the ruby priestess—the witch who ruled all the ruby gates of the Order of Shadows—but I needed to be careful. If anyone found out I was planning to break into one of the Order’s secret cabins in the woods and steal something they had hidden away, the priestess would certainly find out. I didn’t even want to think about what might happen to me then.
Death, most likely. Which would leave no one to take care of Rayla. Her power would be completely ruled by the Order. I couldn’t let that happen. They would use her up and toss her away.
A path appeared in front of me, and I gasped. This was the first sign that anyone had ever walked in these woods, and from the looks of it, they had been here recently. I dimmed my orb’s light and stepped behind a large tree while I surveyed the path.
I couldn’t see very far in front of me in the darkness, so I sent my orb along the path a few feet. When the steps of the cabin appeared, I put a hand over my mouth.
She’d been right. Rayla had never been here, but somehow, she’d known exactly how to lead me to this place.
I held onto the tree for balance. I’d known my sister’s power was important and rare, but it wasn’t until this moment that I really understood just how powerful she could become in the Order. A witch who could see what she wanted to see so clearly she could describe it down to the last pine needle? She could lead you exactly where you needed to go, down to the very step?
No wonder the Order wanted her powers kept intact.
If I managed to dim her powers or even put a stop to them in order to save her life, the Order would never forgive me. Not when there was a dangerous war going on with that half-demon girl from Georgia and her people. The Order had already lost two priestesses and hundreds of demon gates. They couldn’t afford to lose the ruby gates now, too.
Rayla might be able to help them in the coming war, which was exactly why they refused to help her. They would rather she died than do anything that could dampen her powers.
I took a deep breath and stepped forward in the darkness, heading toward my orb’s light with careful footsteps. It didn’t look like anyone was inside the cabin, but it was difficult to tell with all the windows boarded up the way they were.
The old boards creaked as I walked up the steps toward the front porch, and I paused, waiting to see if anyone would rush out or come to the door. When I didn’t hear any footsteps or movement inside the cabin, I kept going.
My hand trembled slightly on the doorknob, but I pushed aside my fears. This was ridiculous. I had come all this way to get whatever it was that could help my sister. I had to go inside, so it was better to just face it as fast as possible and get it over with.
Only, I was in no way prepared for what I found when I opened that door.
I’d expected potions, maybe a lab with a lot of ingredients. I even imagined finding an old witch inside who would threaten to kill me if I took another step.
But never in a million years had I pictured this.
A man, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, sat on the dusty floor of the old cabin. A large silver cage took up most of the single room, and there was no sign of a kitchen or even a bathroom. No beds or couches like you would expect to see in a normal cabin.
Instead, there was a single table pushed against one wall, an assortment of dirty plates and bottles scattered across it. Other than the cage, there was nothing else here.
The man looked up, his dark curls shading his face so that I could just barely make out a hint of a smile.
“Well, hello there,” he said, a thick British accent coloring his words. “I haven’t seen you before.”
He made no move to stand up or get a closer look at me, so I stayed in the open doorway, ready to run if he tried to cast any magic or spell on me. I’d never known a man who could wield magic, but I was smart enough to know that I knew almost nothing about the world outside my small neighborhood and my coven.
I glanced at the lock on the cage and relaxed a little. Even if he could perform some magic, he obviously wasn’t able to open the large padlock hanging from the door of the cage. If he tried something, all I had to do was run. He wouldn’t be able to chase me.
I inched into the room and motioned for my orb of light to scan the room. I still wasn’t exactly sure what I was looking for, but I couldn’t afford for this guy to distract me. I had no idea how much time I had before someone came back here and discovered me. I did my best to ignore him and search the room.
The only clue Rayla had given me was that I would know it when I found it.
I walked over to the table near the wall and searched it, but couldn’t see any sign of a potion or a talisman. The only things here were completely useless to me.
Unless there were things hidden inside the walls or the floors, Rayla had been wrong about this place.
“Dammit,” I muttered. I wanted to smash something. I’d come all this way and taken this huge risk, but it was just another wild goose chase.
Before this, I’d spent weeks breaking into the Prima’s house to search her secret library of spell books on the third floor of her house. I’d had to bribe someone with the last of my insurance money from my parents’ death just to get the information about that secret room, and it had turned out to be of zero help to me in the long run. If there was a spell or potion that would save my sister, it wasn’t mentioned in those books.
And whatever it was wasn’t here, either.
I’d come all this way for nothing.
I ran a hand through my hair and slammed it down on the table, sending several empty bottles and a fork onto the floor with a crash.
The man inside the cage laughed.
I spun on my heels and stared at him in hatred. “Why are you laughing?” I asked.
He casually placed his elbow across his upraised knee as he lounged on the floor. “When you opened that door, I thought you were a witch coming to kill me,” he said. “But you didn’t even know I was here, did you?”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I walked around the perimeter of the room, searching for any kind of hidden cubby or loose floorboards.
“You’re obviously looking for something,” he said. “Maybe I can help you.”
“I seriously doubt that,” I said. I squared my shoulders and desperately tried to look as if I had some idea of what I was doing here.
The corner of his mouth tilted up in an annoying smirk. “Oh, you do? And why is that?”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re locked in a cage in the middle of the woods,” I said. “I didn’t see any sign of anyone nearby, not even footprints. That must mean some kind of witch has you, am I right?”
He nodded once, never taking his eyes off mine.
“So, I seriously doubt that you’d be of much help to me, considering I, myself, am a witch.”
He mumbled something and turned away.
“What was that?” I asked, tilting my head toward him. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
He smiled, but tried to cover his mouth with his hand. “Nothing, love.” He shook his head, but I didn’t let up, giving him my best evil eye. He shrugged. “I just said that you, though perhaps a witch, are nothing like the women who locked me up in this place.”
“Perhaps a witch?” I asked, stepping back. This guy was getting on my last nerve. “Who the hell do you think you are, anyway? You know nothing about me.”
“I could take a guess at a few things,” he said, the smirk never leaving his eyes, which I was trying desperately not to notice, were the most entrancing shade of golden brown. Almost yellow in this light.
“Oh, really?” I crossed my arms and shifted my weight. “For someone stuck in a large cage, you sure are arrogant. And as much as I’d absolutely love to hear whatever it is you’ve got to say about me—all of which would be wrong, I’m sure—I’ve got more important things to do right now.”
“Whatever you say, Red.”
I turned toward him. “What did you call me?”
I’m sure if the light was stronger, he would have been able to see the red on my cheeks right now, which would only egg him on. I was glad it was a bit dark in here.
Once Upon A Kiss: Seventeen Romantic Faerie Tales Page 10