They traipsed through the snow back to the barn. Owen had apparently already been there, because Nora could see the glow of a fire inside coming through the cracks in the barn. When they went inside, she saw a small fire in the middle of the floor, surrounded by a ring of stones. Snow had fallen into the barn, and a faint trace of white powder covered the stalls. Inside one of the stalls was a goat, tied up and bleating.
Nora turned to Owen. “I thought you said that no one farmed here anymore. What’s with the goat?”
“I brought it here,” said Owen. “We need it.”
Nora wandered close to the goat, peering at it. “For what?”
He ducked into another stall and came out with a bottle of wine. He pulled out a pocket knife and started screwing the corkscrew into the top of the bottle. “Look, this ritual is different, Nora. It’s a little more intense. That’s why it’s going to work.” He pulled the cork out of the wine and handed the bottle to Nora. “Drink up.”
She held the bottle up for a second before taking a sip. “Intense, how?”
He got another bottle of wine out of the stall and began to open it. “It’s part of the Dionysian Mysteries.”
“We need two bottles of wine?” Nora was feeling confused. The rituals were always a little weird, but they’d never really involved alcohol before. Or goats.
“We have to be drunk,” said Owen. “It’s part of the thing with Dionysus. He’s the god of wine, you know.”
Dionysus. She hadn’t heard Owen say that name in a long time, not since they were both much younger. Back then, he’d been determined to find Dionysus, the Greek god. Owen claimed that Dionysus was his father. And given the weird things that he could do, maybe he was right. “Are we trying to find your dad again?”
“No,” said Owen. “Not exactly. But this ritual is supposed to open the dimensions. It’s supposed to let us through, back to Helicon.”
Helicon. Home. The world of the muses. Would this work? “So what do we do exactly?”
“First we get drunk,” said Owen. He clinked his wine bottle against hers and took a long swig.
Nora surveyed her wine bottle. Well, it wasn’t as if she had a foster home to go back to anymore, not really. She might as well get wasted. It was the holidays. She tipped the bottle into her mouth.
* * *
Nora swayed on her feet, the nearly empty wine bottle dangling from her fingers. Owen was behind her, his arms around her waist, his lips on her neck, sending tingles through her body. He’d plugged an mp3 player into some portable speakers, and a tribal kind of drum and string music was pulsing around them. Even though it was cold outside, the fire and the wine made her feel warm. She gazed sidelong at Owen through half-lidded eyes. The music and drinking had entranced her. “We’re going to kill the goat, aren’t we?”
Owen kissed her ear lobe. “Yes.”
“I don’t want to.” There had never been any killing in any of these rituals. Stupid chants, yes. Weird dances, yes. But killing something... It made her feel sick. And she didn’t think it would work anyway.
Owen’s breath tickled her ear as he talked. “Blood is power, Nora. We’ve been trapped here long enough. I’ll do most of it. You just have to help.”
The drums sped up around them, becoming frenzied. Owen’s hands moved on her hips, making her sway with the tempo. She closed her eyes, feeling swept away by it.
The goat bleated behind them. Nora pushed away from Owen, stumbling on her feet. The wine made it hard to move, made everything seem exaggerated. “I don’t want to.”
“Nora.” He put his fingers under her chin and tilted her head up so that she was staring into his eyes. Reflections of the flames danced inside them. She felt dizzy. “Blood is power.”
The sound of the words wrapped tendrils around her brain. She nodded slowly. They had to.
Owen got his pocket knife out again. He slid the blade up. It winked, flickering in the firelight. He turned up the music, louder. It pulsed into Nora’s mind. The beat of the drums seemed clear. Everything else seemed fuzzy and distant.
Owen pulled the goat out of its stall. It was shivering. He put his arm around its neck and pulled it against him. He brandished the knife. Nora winced.
Owen whispered. “I call upon loud-roaring and reveling Dionysus, primeval, two-natured, thrice-born, Bacchic lord, savage, ineffable, secretive, two-horned and two-shaped. Ivy-covered, bull-faced, warlike, howling, pure.” The knife slashed against the goat’s neck. It was quick, glinting in the firelight.
The goat twitched, kicking its hind legs out. Blood poured from its throat.
Nora hid her face.
“Take this raw flesh,” whispered Owen, “and take us home to Helicon.”
Owen tossed the goat’s carcass at Nora. She shrieked. It was warm and twitching and blood was getting on her clothes and skin. She shoved the goat away from her, screaming.
Owen took her hands, pulling her in a circle around the fire. “Take this raw flesh and take us home to Helicon. Say it, Nora.” His eyes burned into hers. “Say it.”
She repeated the words with Owen, allowing him to drag her as they half-ran, half-danced around the fire. The goat blood was sticky and hot. She didn’t like the way it smelled. And the drums were still loud, and the wine was still making everything exaggerated and fuzzy. She thought she might be sick if they kept going in circles like this. Her stomach constricted. She struggled not to heave.
Did the fire seem hotter? Were the flames climbing higher, licking the ceiling of the barn. Was the color different? Less orange and red, more silvery-blue? She tried to focus on it, but she was twirling so fast with Owen, and she was yelling about raw flesh and home at the top of her lungs. She couldn’t tell. Everything was spinning. Everything was moving too quickly.
Suddenly Owen seized her wrists tightly, and they stopped running. He was breathing hard. He cast a glance into the fire, which was different—a huge mass of bright white flame—and yanking her with him, he leapt into the blaze.
Nora cried out. She tried to pull herself back, tried to keep Owen from doing it. But the heat was all around her before she knew it, licking over her limbs, searing into her skin. She smelled the acrid scent of burning hair. They were going to die now, weren’t they? Owen had completely lost his head.
CHAPTER TWO
The drum beat was changing. It was louder, more intricate, losing its tinny forced-through-the-speakers sound, becoming fuller, richer...more real. Nora thought it was strange that she could be thinking about drums while she was burning to death.
Strong arms came up under her armpits, wrenching her out of the fire. The air outside was cool, but not bitingly cold, the way it had been. Sweet air filled her lungs—summer air, full of the smells of green grass and meat cooked over an open flame. Nora realized her eyes were closed.
She opened them.
At first, she only saw the fire. It was huge—far bigger than the fire they’d made, its enormous raging flames climbing upward, sparks snapping up into the starry night sky. Stars? Where was the roof of the barn?
It was only then that she looked around her. She wasn’t in the barn anymore. She was outside somewhere, surrounded by hundreds of people wearing flowing white shirts, loose gathered pants, and patchwork skirts. They stared down at her, surprise all over their beautiful faces.
The drum beat faltered and stopped.
Owen was next to her. Someone had pulled him out of the fire too. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide with wonder. Nora stood up too, hurrying close to him. She grabbed his hand, and he squeezed her fingers.
Nora could see that the strange, pretty people in their bohemian outfits were all gathered around the fire. Some squatted over huge drums, others had guitars and strange stringed instruments—they were all shaped differently, some pear-shaped bodies, others square, others round like balls—tied to their bodies, others had tambourines or bells in their hands. Still others didn’t hold instruments at all. They were all silent now, star
ing at her and Owen.
Were they here? Had it actually worked?
A woman pushed through the crowd toward them. She had smooth coffee-colored skin and an unlined face, but it was surrounded by a halo of bright white curly hair. She carried herself regally, like a queen, but she smiled at Nora, and her smile was kind. Reassuring.
The crowd parted for her, letting her close to Owen and Nora.
“Phoebe Rain?” said Owen. “Your hair...?”
When Owen spoke, he let out a string of musical syllables, but Nora could understand them. The muse language! She’d nearly forgotten. Huddling against the cold with Owen, both of them just children. They’d always spoken to each other in it. But years ago she’d insisted they speak English, and no matter how Owen had protested, she wouldn’t talk to him unless he spoke English. She thought that some part of her had thought that their language must be some sort of childish made-up gibberish.
The woman took Owen by the chin, turning his face this way and that, studying him. “It is you, isn’t it? Owen Asher.” And the woman spoke the musical language as well. It was real. They were in Helicon. Nora felt elated and terrified at the same time.
The woman turned to Nora. “And Nora Sparrow.” She looked back at Owen. “You kept her alive.” She shook her head in wondering disbelief.
“Of course,” said Owen.
The woman studied each of their faces. She swept her gaze over them, taking in their clasped hands. “Follow me,” she said, turning away from them. She waved her hand carelessly at the people surrounding the fire, and the drum beat began again hesitantly.
Owen was walking after the woman, so Nora did as he did. They left the fire and the crowd of people, strolling behind her over a grassy plain. It was dark, but Nora could see the outlines of tents set up in clusters. She wanted to look more closely, but the woman was walking ahead of them so quickly that she couldn’t linger.
Eventually, she stopped in front of a cliff face that rose out of the ground. There was a large archway, ornately decorated with vines carved directly into the rock. The woman stepped onto a wooden walkway complete with a hand rail and walked inside the cliff. Owen followed her as if it were the most natural thing in the world, so Nora did too, although the walkway was too narrow to hold hands anymore, so they had to go single file. Where was this woman taking them?
Inside the cavern, lanterns dangled from chains in the rock ceiling, illuminating an open cavern filled with water. In the center of the pool was a fountain depicting nymphs and mermaids, water cascading over stone leaves and hands, splashing down into the water.
The woman smiled at them. “You both look a little worse for wear. I thought you might want a bath.”
Nora looked down at herself. She was still covered in sticky goat blood. It was on her hands and clothes. “We killed a goat,” she blurted. Everything was extremely strange at the moment.
The woman raised her eyebrows. “Indeed.” Her expression softened. “You don’t remember me, do you, Nora?”
Nora shook her head. She didn’t remember any of this, even though it seemed familiar to Owen. He was pulling his shirt over his head. She looked away, a little embarrassed.
“I’m Phoebe Rain,” said the woman. “I’m the head of the muses’ council here at Helicon.” She smiled again. “Welcome home.”
Home. Nora wasn’t sure if anyone had ever said that to her before. She looked back at the fountain, at the jets of water spraying over the sculpted stone. Maybe it would be nice to wash, but this wasn’t the way she would think of bathing—not exactly. There were stone steps along the walkway, leading down into the water. It certainly didn’t look very...private.
Owen had his hands on the button of his pants. “The muses are pretty comfortable with nudity,” he said, as if he could tell she was feeling confused. He undid his fly. Nora averted her eyes. “The baths are public. Like ancient Rome.”
Nora was pretty sure that the ancient Romans had at least had separate baths for men and women. There was a splash. She looked back up. Owen was in the water. He swam over to the fountain and ducked his head under one of the jets of cascading water. “Get in,” he said.
“Is it cold?” Nora asked.
“Oh, no,” said Phoebe Rain. “It’s quite warm. Bubbles up out of the ground that way.”
Hot springs, huh?
“I’m closing my eyes,” Owen yelled from under the small waterfall. “I won’t see you.”
Nora wasn’t sure she felt comfortable undressing in front of Phoebe Rain, either. She didn’t know this lady at all.
“Humans in the mundane world are often ashamed of their bodies,” Phoebe said. “We here at Helicon frankly don’t understand it. But I can turn around if you like.”
“I’m not ashamed,” Nora said. “It’s just that...” That what? She didn’t want anyone to see her naked because she thought they’d... Well, she didn’t want Owen to see her naked. He never had, and he was a boy, and he... Well, it wasn’t as if she thought that Owen had never seen naked girl parts, was it? Still, there was something about taking off her clothes in front of people that felt wrong. But for the life of her, it didn’t make any sense right now. Phoebe Rain clearly wasn’t going anywhere, and she was sure Owen wasn’t going to try to...do anything with her with the woman around. So, she guessed the only thing to worry about was... Was nothing. Fine. Okay. She peeled her shirt off, happy to get the crusty fabric away from her skin.
In seconds, she was scampering down the steps into the water, which was a deliciously perfect temperature—not scalding hot, but not tepid either. It enveloped her entire body. It felt wonderful against her skin.
The pool was relatively shallow. She could stand, and the water covered her to her shoulders. She made her way over to the fountain and ducked her head under one of the sprays of water, the way Owen had.
“The last we saw you, Owen, your mother was taking you away from Helicon against your wishes,” said Phoebe. Nora brushed water out of her eyes. Phoebe was sitting across from them on one of the steps into the bath. She was dangling her feet into the water, her skirts pulled up to her knees. “We’d assumed you were still with her.”
Owen made a face, ducking out of the stream of water over his head. “I got Nora and me away from her. I got rid of her.”
Mother? This was a little strange. Owen talked about his father, or at least used to, but she’d never heard him say anything about his mother. Nora was intrigued.
“So, she didn’t send you here?” said Phoebe.
“Of course not,” said Owen.
“The council will suspect, of course,” said Phoebe. “But I believe you’re here in good faith, both of you.”
“We’ve been trying to get back for years,” said Nora. “Owen was always hunting down rituals for us to use. But none of them worked until now.”
“You’ve been living among humans for quite some time then,” said Phoebe.
“Eleven years,” said Owen. “The whole time.”
Phoebe furrowed her brow. “Well, I don’t understand. We thought for sure that Nora was dead or still imprisoned by Nimue, because we never felt her use her muse powers. You mean to tell me you’ve never been creative in front of anyone for eleven years?” She chuckled.
“Only once,” said Nora. “Owen said the Influence would come and kill me if I did. And I tried it and—”
“Oh dear,” said Phoebe. “That was you, then.”
“You could feel it if I was creative around others?” Nora said. She wanted to understand this.
“Certainly,” said Phoebe. “Any muse using creativity outside of Helicon creates a ripple that we can feel here. We were waiting for your ripple so we send out scouts to go and get you.”
“But...” Nora trailed off. It had killed her to keep the creativity locked up, made her miserable. And now this woman was saying that if she’d done it, she could have been back here in Helicon years ago?
Owen was next to her, his hand on her shoulder. “I�
��m sorry, Nora. I didn’t know.”
“This once that you did it,” said Phoebe. “Was it about three years ago?”
“Yes,” said Nora. “Why didn’t you come then?”
“We were distracted,” said Phoebe. “But that’s a complicated story. You see, there have been two holes ripped open in Helicon over the last three years. When that happens, the Influence can get into Helicon and cause damage. We were so worried about closing the hole that we were distracted, and we didn’t get to you in time. We assumed the worst. By the time anyone made it to the spot where the power had been used, it was clear the Influence had been there. We thought we’d lost someone.”
“Owen saved me,” Nora said. “After that, I never tried it again.”
“Well, you’re here now,” said Phoebe, “and I don’t believe you intend to do any damage to Helicon, so none of that is important anymore.”
Nora huddled in the warm water. “We killed a goat.” And if she’d just shown more people drawings, they wouldn’t have had to.
“I’m sorry,” Owen said again. “No one told me that. I knew about the Influence, but I didn’t know they could sense you.”
Phoebe Rain stood up. “Don’t dwell on it further. It can’t be changed now.” She gestured to the wall next to the walkway where several robes were hanging on hooks. “If you two are feeling refreshed, I’d suggest you join us at our Solstice Celebration. I do believe I can find you some clean clothes as well.”
* * *
The clothes were made of the softest fabric Nora had ever felt. The shirt hugged her torso, somehow strong enough to support her breasts, but airy enough not to feel constricting. It had long bell-shaped sleeves. She wore a skirt too, long and flowing like Phoebe’s. The fabric felt divine against her legs as they walked back from the baths to the fire. The clothes made her feel free and comfortable. They were like a second skin.
The Helicon Muses Omnibus: Books 1-4 Page 3