Soul in Darkness Read online

  “No number of offerings will please the gods if you walk in there filled with pride and bitterness,” I said against the wind, leaning forward as the chariot inclined.

  “Hold your tongue,” Mother chided.

  But Papa wanted to argue. “Why are we to be punished? We work hard to rule our lands with justice. Surely the gods can see our daily work.”

  I eyed him. “It takes more than good deeds, Papa. You know this. You must honor them.” He stiffened, his knuckles white on the railing until I pried his closest hand away, slipping my small hand into his large, calloused palm.

  “Time has passed so swiftly,” he told me.

  “I know, Papa. And you are busy with more responsibilities than any man I know. Tell this to the gods when you worship today. Explain that time got away from you and you never meant to offend them.”

  I held tight to his hand until the horses slowed and came to a stop. The three of us were a shame-filled sight as we gathered as much as we could into our arms, the guards carrying the animals. We brought so much that the altar quickly filled, surrounding the stone statue of the deity. And then the hours of sacrifice and worship began. Chanting. Bowing. Kneeling. Singing. Begging. Promising change. All while the winds whistled through the pillars like small screams.

  We were exhausted at the end of it, and the clouds still hovered above the temple. In the distance blue skies painted the horizon, but the sun did not show its face over us. A horrible chasm of despair opened up inside of me, causing my body to tremble as Papa helped me to my feet. My knees were numb and painful.

  The three of us exchanged somber glances, telling me their level of hope was as low as mine. It was time to see the oracle and learn our fate. How would we be punished? Would the gods take away our lands? Would Papa’s reign be tumbled? Would our people suffer plague or famine? I couldn’t bear the thought of our small empire, so precious to our family, in ruin.

  Gaining audience with the oracle was a difficult task. Only royalty and the very rich were granted prophecy. Our own guards filled the space around us while Miletus guards surrounded the old woman being brought gingerly up the steps. Two younger seers in white robes, marked with shaved heads, accompanied the oracle, holding her hands. The oracle stared with her chin lifted, but her eyes were a milky, whitish-blue.

  As she took the final step into the temple the guards spread out, giving the four of us as much space as possible while still circling us. Papa, Mother, and I knelt and bowed our heads a long moment before Papa spoke.

  “Most worthy oracle. We thank you. Your time is a gift.” Papa raised his head, taking Mother’s hand, then mine, and we stood together.

  “A most blessed family on a blessed isle.” The oracle’s voice was scratchy like sand over rocks. I swallowed hard, my heart banging a fearful beat in my chest.

  “What is your greatest prayer request?” asked the oracle.

  “My wish…my greatest prayer is for my daughter Psyche to have a husband.” Papa closed his eyes, and in that moment, I watched as all pride shed from his shoulders and he stood before the oracle as a mere man and father. My eyes burned, and I swallowed back the moisture building as Mother sniffled beside me.

  “Princess Psyche.” The oracle’s voice tilted up at the end of my name as if contemplating. “Indeed, the famed beauty should have a husband by now.”

  Mother shivered, taking my hand, and Papa lowered his head.

  “I fear,” Papa choked out, “that I have cursed her with my…unfaithfulness.”

  I wiped a tear from the corner of each eye before it could fall. I wasn’t prone to crying but seeing Papa at such a low point was tugging at my goblet of emotion, causing it all to spill forth.

  “The root of her curse goes much deeper than your own actions,” the oracle said, making all three of us gasp at the truth. “’Twas the unfaithfulness of you and all your people that brought the ire of the goddess Venus. And ‘tis only the one you so love and admire who can be sacrificed to bring blessing back to your lands.”

  “Wh—” Papa’s breath left him in a whoosh as he spun to me, eyes wide.

  My stomach dipped but I remained still. In my mind, this had been the worst case. I knew the price would be great, and that it would somehow pertain to me. As much as my body wanted to fall and beg, if I did that, my parents would break. I had to be strong for them.

  “No,” Mother said. “Not Psyche. Not my baby. She has done nothing!” She gripped my forearm tightly, as if she could save me from the gods.

  I put a hand over hers. “It’s all right, Mother.”

  At this, the oracle chuckled, and craned her head to the side as if hearing something nobody else could decipher. Her slow nod sent a hot zap of fear across my skin.

  “The gods have spoken. Hers will be a funeral wedding to a dark-deeded winged serpent. Many call him a monster. Your dear Psyche will call him Husband.”

  My eyes fluttered and for a moment the temple spun. I barely made out the sounds of Mother and Papa fighting to breathe, their hands holding me.

  “I won’t have it!” Papa shouted. I wanted to tell him to keep calm, that even his immense power could not save me from this, but I couldn’t find my voice.

  “It is decided,” the oracle told Papa again, never raising her voice.

  “What if we refuse?” Mother asked.

  “Then the curse on her head spills onto those who share her blood and all who reside on your isle.”

  Mother covered her mouth and started to drop to her knees, but Papa lifted her, scowling at the oracle, as if this were her fault, but it wasn’t. It was mine. I should have put a stop to the nonsense years ago. I should have insisted Papa forbid the people from idolizing me. My parents thought it was innocent flattery, but in my heart I’d always known better. I had kept too quiet, hoping the issue would resolve itself over time. Now, fear for my parents and our people rose like a wild fire inside of me—a deadly thing only I could control.

  “Please,” I said to my parents as calmly as possible. “You cannot fight this. It is mine to bear. I can handle it.”

  His eyes still boring holes into the oracle, Papa yelled, “He will kill her!”

  “He will have her as his wife.” At that simple statement, Papa flinched, and Mother dissolved into tears, sagging in Papa’s strong arms and gripping him with all her might. The pain in Papa’s eyes killed me. He was thinking of all that my husband would do to me—the things I couldn’t bring myself to imagine.

  My husband.

  My stomach lurched. A wave of dizziness threatened to knock my feet from beneath me, but I tensed my muscles to stay upright.

  A dark-deeded winged serpent.

  I would not survive it, that was certain, but I couldn’t let my parents see the terror that burned through me.

  The oracle nodded slowly, her frightening eyes staring at my own. “On the next full moon, you will climb to the highest point on your isle, alone, and there you will stay until taken to your husband.”

  “Who will take her?” Papa demanded.

  “That is not for you to know.”

  His jaw clenched. Papa could bully the mightiest warriors in all the lands, but this frail old woman would not be cowed. She spoke with authority of the gods, and what she envisioned was what I deserved. Perhaps my entire favored life had led to such an ending as this. The sardonicism nearly made me laugh with hysterics. I should have ended the people’s fascination with my appearance long ago. I didn’t know how, but I should have done something. I should have been diligent about my family’s worship and offerings. But it was too late to go back.

  Now I would make the ultimate sacrifice. Gods, help me.

  FUNERAL WEDDING

  The sun had not shown its face on our isle since the night our altar was destroyed. Papa’s builders worked day and night to create a new shinier, larger altar to the gods. In that time, my day of birth came and went, making me an official adult citizen. The altar was finished a day before the full moon. A day befo
re I was to marry a monster.

  I was the first to fall to my knees at the new structure. I didn’t cry, though all around me people wept. By now everyone knew of my fate. Everyone knew their punishment would be dealt through me. They cried my name, mourning their cherished princess, as if I were already dead. And perhaps I was. I surely felt it.

  Deadened.

  I hadn’t cried since the oracle had proclaimed my fate, her words slamming like a great stone against my nerves, numbing me completely. If I let myself feel, even for a scarce moment, my heart seized from sheer panic.

  Tomorrow I’d be given to a monster. A serpent. An unknown mythological creature. And it was a cruel added punishment that the gods wouldn’t even allow me to know my husband’s identity. It allowed my mind—all of our minds—to create horrifying scenarios. There was no end of terrifying beasts in Olympus. Immortal humanesque beings.

  Papa and Mother begged me to leave. They begged me to go in the dead of night. Papa knew people at the far ends of the land, people willing to let me hide away. They would feign my death, he said. As if the gods would not know. As if we’d not been foolish enough already.

  No. This was the only way to lift the shade of darkness and bitter winds that hovered above our isle. I would not run from my duty to the people, especially now as their tears surrounded me, realizing the error of their ways. They had forgotten the power of the gods, opting to shower me with their adoration instead. And now they’d been reminded that their princess was very, very mortal. I felt their regret as stridently as if it were my own.

  I would bring no finery to my new bridal home. Only myself. I gave all I had at the altar. After hours of worship, I retired to my room for my last night in the lavish home of my childhood. A sleepless night. Stormy did not grace me with her presence that night. Even the animals felt my doom.

  In all the marriage celebrations I’d ever attended, I’d never heard the wedding lute sound mournful until this dark evening. Now and again as we walked the path to the mountain, the overfed clouds would move just enough for the full moon to show its ominous face, reminding us that it was, indeed, time.

  I stood tall and walked with purpose, my face shrouded by a gauzy purple veil, but inside I shook like a loose feather in a gale. My fear was a thick, viscous thing inside of me, like sludge in my limbs, and I fought to overcome it. Not a single female face wasn’t streaked with tears; not a single males’ eyes were not wide with shock and horror.

  And yet, we walked.

  From the side of my vision, I noticed Boldar’s hand in a tight fist at his side. It must have gone against everything inside of him to allow me to go. He’d spent my entire life keeping me safe, more like an uncle than a guard, and now he marched me straight into danger. Pity made me reach down and squeeze his fist. His eyes moved to mine, and the pain I saw there, practically begging me to turn and run, sent a sharp sting through my breast. For once, I would not try to escape. No more playful running.

  I swallowed and tried to smile, which brought a tremble to his chin. We both abruptly looked away and I brought my hand back to my own side. He couldn’t save me from the fate of the gods. Nobody could. Wind blasted us, lifting loose sand and whipping it against our party.

  The path turned rocky, but the lute’s sadness never ceased. Its tune warbled through the dense air, surrounding all of us. Breathing became labored as the walk turned into more of a climb, requiring hands now. And when the peak came into view my sisters and Mother behind me began to wail in earnest. Even Papa let out a choked sound. I swallowed once. Twice. Three times, taking shuddering breaths. Boldar took my elbow on a sharp incline, though I didn’t need his help. It wasn’t my first climb to the peak of this mountain. But it was the first time I’d done it without joy.

  He will have her as his wife.

  My stomach gave a violent lurch and I paused to close my eyes. I hadn’t eaten in over a day and didn’t want my body to bring up the terrible acid that’d been churning in my stomach. If I began to heave, I might never stop.

  “Princess,” Boldar said with worry, his hand gripping my elbow.

  I blew out a breath and lifted my head. “I’m all right.” I continued my climb.

  When it became too steep and the lute began to get choppy, I rushed to the front of the party. The music stopped. All eyes lifted to me as I faced their mournful faces.

  “I will continue alone.”

  Papa’s stern mouth tried to work, but nothing came out, so I ran to him. My family embraced me, shaking with their sobs, the five of us holding fast. Still, I did not cry. Their love and guilt were palpable things. I could not be angry at their past stubbornness or foolishness. I wouldn’t blame them or the people. My heart was too full of fear, leaving no room for anger or blame.

  “I love each of you,” I said, taking in their faces one last time. Papa. Mother. Miracle. Dawn. Then Boldar. When I turned from them, Boldar tried to follow but I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I must go alone.” I pulled my hand from his grasp, looking away from his desperate gaze.

  I climbed the rest of the way, my eyes scanning the area with apprehension. Only rocks to be seen. The higher I went, the harsher the winds became, grasping and stripping my veil. I tried to grab it, but the winds took it, leaving my face and hair on display as I fell to my knees at the top of the rocks.

  As the skies darkened further, I watched the lights of gas lamps and torches begin their slow descent. The path of light moved farther and farther away. And with each retreating step, my heart grew heavier, pounding louder. Hearing a noise, I turned, crying out, but I was alone. Just me and my terror. All around me became blackness, and as the last of the lights disappeared from sight, I finally let loose the emotions inside of me. Every single thing I’d been holding back rushed to the surface, flooding out of me, wrenching my voice from my throat.

  On that rock I cried. I bawled, overcome with dread, sadness, and regret. My soul poured out the anger and blame I felt toward my family and the people. This could have been avoided. This should have never happened! This wasn’t fair.

  I mourned until my strength was gone and I collapsed upon the rock, my face pressed against its cool, worn surface. And then a different wind came. Not cold or hot or rushed. This wind caressed me from toe to scalp, calming me into a deep sleep. And then the wind lifted me and carried me away.

  VOICES

  I stretched in bliss as I woke, having no immediate recollection of what had happened. In that single instant I was fully rested, more comfortable than I’d ever been. At peace. My fingers lazily moved, twining with velvety blades of grass. And the light beyond my eyelids was as soft as happiness.

  Oh, gods.

  It all came racing back to me and I sat up gasping, heart galloping. Every scrap of peace I’d felt was thrown from my body, replaced by the panic I’d worn at the rock. But as my fingers gripped the grass on either side of me, and my head swiveled side to side, my mind couldn’t grasp what my eyes were taking in.

  Lush waves of grass gave way to a mossy bank and a stream that rambled, clear as my own sea. The trees were massive with twisted trunks, making them look as if they’d danced themselves into those beautiful positions as they grew from saplings. Their leaves waved down at me, but none fell. In fact, the grounds were completely free of any leaf or branch debris. Everything about the woodsy area was perfect.

  Too perfect.

  On closer inspection, the only sounds were the tinkling stream and the rustle of leaves clapping softly against one another. No birds chirping. No buzz of bees. No life other than the plants. The colors, greens, blues, and browns were too vivid and bright. This wasn’t my world.

  I leapt to my feet, my heart refusing to settle. Where was I? Why was I alone? Where was my…no. I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about the beast. And I didn’t want to get my hopes up that this was really where I was supposed to be. Was I somehow being taunted? Teased with a peaceful surrounding before being thrown into a nightmare? It was possi
ble my husband was capable of such cruelty. As much as I didn’t want to find out, my stomach gave an ache of hunger and I knew I had to move. I made my way tentatively through the trees, and I swore they moved ever so slightly to accommodate me. When I turned, they seemed to be in different positions, but I couldn’t remember exactly. I blinked away the strangeness and continued on.

  At one point, I swore I heard soft footsteps behind me, but when I spun, holding my breath, nobody was there. This place—this entire situation—was making me lose my mind. I thought of my family’s faces when I’d left them, and suddenly I felt alone for the first time in my life. Truly alone. And though the air was not cold, I wrapped myself in my arms, holding tight against the internal shiver and longing for home.

  I continued through the enchanted forest, unable to rid myself of the feeling of being watched, no matter how many times I stared about and saw nothing but trees. And when I came to the edge of the forest at the bottom of a valley where the trees gave way to rolling hills, my fingers fluttered up to cover my lips. At the top of the last vibrant hill was a palace. But not just any palace. It put my childhood home to shame.

  From afar, white marble turrets, pillars, archways, and balconies glittered under the sun. A castle far grander than my family’s. Each stone was melded together by gold, every doorway edged in precious gems—diamond windows and emerald doors. Yet somehow it managed to be tasteful in its grandeur. My feet moved me up the hill, curiosity driving me closer. Beside the castle was an archery range, vast in its size, with quality targets of stuffed humans and animals.

  I was close enough now to make out the main walkway paved in gold. I stopped at the entrance of the sparkling path, stunned. How it all sparkled!

  On either side of the path were glorious gardens. Bushes sculpted into giant, wild beasts, creatures I’d never seen but a few I’d heard of: centaurs and satyrs. I recognized the three heads of Cerberus. Beyond the leafy animals were rows of colorful bushes, leaves and petals as bright as if they’d been dyed by a master seamstress. I was drawn to the colors, like nothing I’d ever seen in nature. And for a moment, I forgot to be afraid.