More Than Words: Kissed By A Muse #3

by S. K Munt

  But he didn’t know how or what the magic words were or where the ennead was to guide him home and it made him feel desperate. He kicked up a splash of water while his heart palpitated in his ears and his eyes leaked in silent terror, and the water soared like air born diamonds beneath the glittering sun, mocking his anxiety with beauty. ‘Shit! Curse you Zeus I-’

  ‘The girl lived, Ryan!’

  Ryan spun, facing Calliope and feeling winded at the sight of her, yet again. ‘How do you know that? The car was-’

  ‘Someone grabbed her from the other side!’ Calliope, as Melody Marks, rushed forward and clamped her tiny hands around his own. ‘I swear it to you Ryan- I grabbed you back and somebody else grabbed her! A little old lady! The girl was hurt, I think, because she went down pretty hard but-’

  She’s alive! But she still needs me!

  ‘Then take me back so I can see her!’ He wrenched his hands from her grip. ‘I don’t want to be here!’ Calliope’s brown eyes widened, and they were every bit as beautiful as in his dreams and he immediately regretted having spoken so harshly to her, without knowing the circumstances. He turned away and smushed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. ‘I belong down there!’

  She didn’t die, she didn’t die! Oh my god, Honey please be okay!

  ‘How do you know that? Ryan, what happened? How are you alive?’

  He looked at her, bewildered. ‘What? You don’t know?’

  Calliope shook her head. ‘I don’t understand ANY of this!’

  That was weird- beyond weird because he’d been assuming that she was responsible for his resurrection. But he pushed the ‘How’s’ and ‘Why’s’ to the side. ‘Well, you’re the one who pulled me out so I don’t care how I got there in the first place- all that matters is that I get back!’

  But Calliope raised her hands in a defensive posture. ‘I don’t know if I should! I pulled you out of there in a panic, but you feel human to me Ryan, and weak and you’re shaking… if I take you back, I don’t know that you’ll make it. Mortals aren’t meant to come here, and I don’t know what the policy is on them leaving but you’re so white you’re almost see-through and--’

  ‘Then you should have left me there!’

  ‘You would have been killed! If I hadn’t melted you into my imagination we would have both been hit!’ A sob escaped her. ‘I’m sorry Ry, I really am but-’

  Ryan roared again and sank to his backside in the lake and above them, the sky darkened. It was only for a moment, proving that his imagination didn’t have one hundredth of the strength of Calliope’s- for hers was maintaining the sunny sky while also in a state of flux- but it was slightly mollifying to have had any effect at all. For years, his gilded cage had mocked him with his powerlessness, and he wouldn’t abide it again.

  I can’t abide it again! I can’t stay here! If I die trying to get back, then so be it! But why? What’s the point of all of this?

  ‘This is...’ he covered his face and felt his tears against his clammy palms. Calliope was right- he hadn’t noticed before but he was shaking like a sapling in a monsoon. ‘How could I be alive without your help?’

  ‘I was never your keeper, Ryan…’ Calliope sank down on the bank behind him, the sheer white fabric of her toga puddling in the edge of the stream. ‘All I know is that you died for me, and there was no way of getting you back. For years, I appealed to mother and The Harmony and when father returned, even Zeus! But I could think of nothing to offer in exchange for such a trade, and it had never been done before so I let you rest, thinking you’d suffered the mortal coil long enough...’

  Ryan didn’t need her to explain anything. He’d known, when he’d died for her- that that would be that. There had been a trade to make, and he’d made it, and he did not resent Calliope for assuming that was a done deal, and moving on with her own existence, which was as crucial to the universe as light and sound.

  But he, well, he had never been much more than a boy, with a handsome face and a guitar riff or two to offer the world- as Ardos Karalis, or as Ryan Weaver. The stories said that demi-gods were the result of a birth between a god and a human, but that was the myth veiling the truth. There had been no Hercules or Helen of Troy- they had been stories. Ardos Karalis had been born to two mortal parents, and had earned the blessings of a god for saving a little girl wrongly accused of theft- and his heavenly thank-you, had been the chance to win Calliope’s hand. Recalling that made Ryan’s heart twist.

  The little girl I dreamed of… she wasn’t a product of my future, but the explanation of my past! Does that mean that I’m not destined to have children with Honey after all? I was so certain!

  ‘Zeus is alive again?’ he asked weakly, clinging to the one statement Calliope had made which made sense. He didn’t want to think of his history with the muse of music- the woman who had decided to love him and die for that love, only after he had vowed to die in order to win it.

  ‘Zeus and mother. Hendra’s strength has returned as well, though for a mortal, those are hardly glad tidings. Imagination brought them all back…’ Calliope sighed. ‘But they were gods. I don’t see how anything was powerful enough to revive you when….’

  Ryan’s eyes narrowed, as he silently finished her sentence: ‘When entities like Elvis Presley and Princess Diana and Joan Of Arc and Jesus stayed dead, despite the universe willing them back.’ It was true of course- but it still hurt to understand how inconsequential he was to history.

  A gentle hand rested on his shoulder. ‘Do you remember being there? In Oblivion?’

  Ryan closed his eyes and nodded, for he did. It had been like being a fog, within a thicker fog- one pleasant and scented of honeysuckle and lilacs. One where he felt a harmony between his very soul and every other… one where he dreamed of defenseless blonde girls in fields with lyres, of Calliope twirling on a stage as Callie Clay…of his daughter’s beautiful blue eyes… His heart swelled, as it had when Leigh had agreed to marry him. Rya! At first, he had fought to keep his connection with Calliope alive but after a while… he’d sent music, and love, for his darling Rya. ‘I sent you music,’ he whispered. ‘Didn’t I?’

  ‘Yes. All the time. Me… and then Rya.’ She paused. ‘You may have played for Rya all along but of course, I didn’t know until she was old enough to point out that she hadn’t turned the radio on…’ the hand fell away from his shoulder. ‘I hope you two get to meet, properly and spend time together. She’s such a wonderful combination of us both- she has my naughty streak, your devotion…’

  Ryan’s forehead spasmed as his throat closed over a sob. He had a daughter! ‘She is?’

  ‘Oh yes… you’d have to see it for yourself to understand…’

  Ryan nodded, lifting his shirt to wipe at his eyes. The emotions inside him were churning. ‘I have to go back. I have to. For her- and for Honey…’

  Leigh sucked in her breath. ‘I went by Honey once.’

  Ryan thought it over, and then nodded. ‘That’s right. You did.’ He rose to his feet, water flowing from his sodden clothes. ‘You inspired that song, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes- decades ago. The girl… she was named for it?’

  ‘She was.’

  ‘Wow that’s…’ Calliope cleared her throat. ‘Are you in love with her?’

  It was like being torn apart from every angle. He turned to face the once love of his life and nodded. ‘More than I’ve ever…’ Calliope looked stricken, and he couldn’t blame her. The connection they’d shared may have flipped about like severed wires for centuries upon centuries, but when they’d finally come together for that one, beautiful night, it had been nothing short of magical. Stronger even, then what he’d had with Leigh, but he couldn’t compare the two. After all, he’d waited millennia for Calliope to fall into his arms- he’d only known Honey for a few days!

  But what mattered was what he felt now- and as he looked into his soul mate’s eyes, he felt nothing but warmth and fear and sentimentality. ‘She’s my wife,’ he fi
nished softly, hearing the possession in his tone. ‘And you, from what I’ve gathered- are Hunter’s.’ The word Hunter felt strange rolling off his tongue.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘He and I married a month ago.’ She lowered her head. ‘I waited eight years- I mourned you like no woman has ever mourned another man… but he and I…’ she wet her lips and smoothed down her skirt. ‘The music wouldn’t let me stay away from him for long.’

  Ryan didn’t know what to think about that. It was no surprise that they’d ended up together of course, because he’d always known that Calliope’s connection with Hunter must have been magnificent for her to have returned for a mortal man at all, and because he’d once loved Hunter so dearly, he could only imagine how thrilled his best friend must be. But a muse living with a human she loved was incredibly risky, especially if that human’s destiny had already been fulfilled. Wasn’t the rest of the harmonious world suffering because she continued to lavish the one man, not only with all of her attention, but her affection?

  ‘Are you okay?’ Calliope asked. ‘About Hunter and I, I mean?’

  Ryan scratched his head. Feelings were funny things- they were completely circumstantial and yet circumstances had little to no bearing on them once established. He felt jealous, envious, confused, angry, elated, wary and possessive all at once. And beneath all that, the overwhelming desire to give Hunter a hug, like back when they’d been closer than any two people had ever been, made his arms and lips twitch.

  He was the only true friend I’ve ever had… and Callie, of course.

  ‘Does he know?’

  Calliope lifted long dark lashes, and then cast her eyes away to the waterfall. ‘He suspects. But he’s human, and his mind can only process so much… It’s Rya and her likeness to you that bugs him, more than my likeness to the Callie Clay he believes is dead.’ She hugged herself. ‘I don’t think he knows that his Melody and his Callie are one and the same. But he thinks I’m some gift from the heavens- possibly her reincarnated, with your child.’ She smiled prettily, and Ryan heard the music again. ‘He wrote a song, ‘Second Chance’ about us the day after we met… about finding a kindred spirit, with a connection to a former flame.’

  Ryan studied her profile, amazed that it had been so easy to recognize her, though he’d never spent time with this version of Calliope before. She looked about thirty-two or three, and her skin was at least five shades darker than it had been as Callie Clay, her hair closer to jet-black than mahogany, her eyes slightly slanted, much more Grecian than she usually preferred. She was fuller in the bust, whereas Callie had been almost pancake flat, and voluptuous in the hips and thighs. Still beautiful, still flawless… but she wasn’t his Callie Clay any more and after centuries of loving the idea of her, he saw now that he’d only ever known Callie. And without that face, he’d never see the two entities as the one again; he’d never see his old soul mate again, and relief swept through him. He hadn’t lied when he’d sworn to Leigh that his heart was his to give- not even a love as old as time could dilute the way he felt for her after four days.

  Ryan felt panic and excitement stir within him like a sudden squall. He had to get back to her and explain that. He didn’t care what the fucking rules were either- he’d tell her absolutely everything and if she was truly the girl he thought she was, she’d take him back with open arms.

  ‘I have to get back to her.’ Ryan moved to wring out his clothes, but they were bone dry. ‘I don’t care if it kills me Calliope- you have to take me back.’

  Calliope stared at him pensively, but then sighed and nodded. ‘Ryan you know I couldn’t ever deny you anything…’ she bit her lip and rose. ‘Will she be in Vegas? Do you two live there or-’

  ‘No. We were only there today- to marry. She’ll be there though, probably at our hotel or one of the hospitals, but if she’s not, I’ll catch the first flight back to Niagara.’ He ran his hands through his hair. ‘That’s where I live, and where most of her things are. She’s on holiday from Australia so-’

  ‘You were in Niagara Falls?’ Callie’s eyes widened. ‘Whatever for?’

  ‘Before I had no fucking idea why- I had amnesia- but now...’ he gestured to the waterfall. ‘I guess it makes sense. It’s always the waterfalls, isn’t it?’

  Calliope followed his gaze to the falls. ‘It’s wherever nature’s in motion… some of us flow into the world like water, others, like me…’

  ‘Ride the lightning,’ he said softly, remembering it all.

  Callie stared at him, then nodded slowly. ‘You stopped playing music for me six months ago. After I started seeing…’

  ‘Hunter.’

  ‘Yes.’ Calliope looked more uncomfortable than he’d ever seen her look before. It wasn’t like goddesses to fidget, but she shifted her weight on her feet, her eyes darting everywhere but to him. ‘Is that why you…?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ he said honestly. ‘But that was the when. I woke up in a gorge in Niagara River six months ago with no recollection of who I was or where I’d come from. I only had this,’ he held up his finger, frowning when he realised that unlike everything else- the memory of that ring or where he hadn’t gotten it from had not returned to him. ‘I was rescued from the water by…’ Electricity sluiced through Ryan’s veins on the highest, most shocking level of voltage. Jaw open, he stared at Calliope, uncomprehending. ‘Imogen! Fucking IMOGEN!’ Ryan could not believe that he hadn’t connected the dots the moment that Rya’s voice had triggered his memories. The sweet, funky, old lady who had nursed him back to health and loved him like a mother, was the same bloodthirsty, scheming, vengeful beauty he had encountered both in the human realm and in Helicon. And not only were his Imogen and the muse of the written word one and the same- but she’d shown Ryan her true face just one day earlier- as Isabelle, Kathryn Praser’s assistant! She’d used the exact same, bombshell appearance she’d toted when she’d come into his life back in high school, as his English teacher’s girlfriend- firstly to inspire him, then to torment Calliope.

  The eyes! The swirling, shifting grey to mauve eyes! Oh my god how did THAT not tip me off yesterday? Gah! She hadn’t been expecting to see me, surely? She wore glasses as my Imogen, so those eyes wouldn’t… I am SUCH an IDIOT!

  The shock knocked Ryan on his ass again, literally. He sank back to his feet and squeezed his fingertips into his skull as though he could physically smush together the rational, enlightened thoughts with the confused, fuzzy ones and make sense of it all before he popped a blood vessel.

  ‘What?! Imogen pulled you from the water? My sister- Imogen?’

  Ryan couldn’t talk, so he nodded.

  ‘WHY? HOW? Who? I-’

  There was a splash and suddenly, a frail old lady with sodden, pale grey hair and glasses materialized in the centre of the lake. Ryan’s head snapped up to gape at her and seconds later, Calliope did the same.

  ‘Add What, When and Where to that Calliope, and you have the basic foundation to write a newspaper article.’ The old lady, whose face made Ryan’s heart flutter with relief, shook out her hair and like a swan to a princess- became the bombshell he’d once despised once more. ‘I’m proud of you Calliope- you must have been studying, hmm?’

  Ryan framed his hands with his face and gaped at her.

  ‘It’s you,’ Calliope whispered. ‘You’re the one who pulled Honey from in front of the car! Imogen what are you playing at here?! How long have you-’

  ‘It’s Ryan I owe the explanations to here, if you don’t mind Calliope.’ Imogen stepped forward and knelt before Ryan, taking his hands in hers and staring at him with those incredible, pale grey eyes, which were glossy with building tears. ‘But before I explain what I know, can I just say one thing?’

  Ryan swallowed, trembling anew.

  ‘I’ve missed you.’ And then Helicon vanished and they were back in Imogen’s kitchen. ‘Honey’ was playing on the radio and the only mother he’d ever had was slow-dancing with him and swearing that everything was go
ing to be okay. Ryan wrapped his arms around her tightly, and scented pine needles and hot chocolate in the air, and silent tears streamed down his face and onto her shoulder, tears of gratitude as he realised that he’d never been truly alone- not for one second.

  Seventeen

  Honey

  Leigh didn’t know when she’d passed out again, but when she came to, the machine next to her hospital bed was beeping softly, and the sweet old lady who’d saved her life and kept her company during the doctor’s exam had vanished. Dread settled over her prone form, but Leigh had never liked to give misery the chance to pin her down completely, so she struggled against it and sat up, her head spinning but thanks to the drip in her arm, not hurting.

  The hospital room was identical to every other she’d ever been in before, except Honey couldn’t remember ever having been alone in a hospital room before. Someone had always been there, either her mother or father or both, each refusing to leave her side for even a second, and the silence and chill in the room was unsettling. She pulled at her paper gown, having an episode until she realised that yes she was still wearing her bra, and that her pocket watch was attached. She sank back against the pillows and breathed in gently, trying not to over-extend her bruised ribs.

  After all of these weeks of trying to be independent… I’ve never needed to be held or coddled as badly as I do right now!

  Leigh hugged herself as she waited for the world to come the right side up, feeling the bandage hugging her head in a similar fashion, only she couldn’t hug her chest tight enough to keep from feeling the ache in her heart- there was no bandage for losing Ryan; no drugs, and no hug would ever hold her as tightly and make her feel as at home as his arms had. Like a spider pouncing from a web, dread dropped and fell upon her and Honey cried out, doubling over and gasping in a breath so she wouldn’t start crying again. She’d bawled when she’d come to in the ambulance with the old lady for company instead of her husband, and every sob had made her head feel like it was splitting open as violently as her heart. To avoid that pain now she moaned and squeezed her eyes shut- not wanting to see the digital clock that read that it was two in the morning- to see that Ryan had had four hours to locate her, but had not. The optimistic leprechaun who had set up camp in her heart at conception and never left, tugged on her heartstrings now and plead its case: