“Yeah, you mentioned that,” I sigh. “Fancy spirit magic that allows me to control life and see ghosts.”
“Oh, darling. It’s so much more than that,” she murmurs.
Mildred leads me over to the bed; and we both sit, our knees brushing as we face each other. She gathers my hand between hers. They’re cold and dry against mine. Wrinkles collect around her eyes and lips, as her face weighs down with a seriousness that isn’t at all comforting.
“You are the closest being to a goddess that the mortal realm will ever see,” she speaks with an uncomfortable reverence. “With one look, you can see the measure of a person-- the core of who they are and what motivates them, and with that knowledge, you can elevate them or destroy them.”
I blink stupidly at her, sure that I didn’t hear what I thought I just heard. “Did you-- just call me a goddess?”
She releases a breathy laugh. “I said you’re the closest facsimile to a goddess that this realm will see. Technically, the earth is the goddess of this realm, but as the voice for her, you hold unimaginable power-- including her control over life and death.”
I shake my head hard, because I’m seriously not ready to hear this. I just learned magic was fucking real, and now she’s talking about gods.
This is not happening. This is not happening. This is so not fucking happening!
My heart pounds loudly in my ears, and panic squeezes my throat, air now fighting to get in and out of my lungs.
“You said I was a spirit witch,” I whisper, disbelief pressing hard against my already overtaxed mind. “I’m just like you-- only, I don’t-- stronger?”
“Sweetheart, stronger doesn’t even begin to encapsulate all that you are,” she answers, which is the exact opposite of what I want to hear. “As powerful as I am, I might as well be a light breeze against a hurricane compared to you.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I cry.
Mildred gives my hand a tight squeeze, her face etched with an understanding sorrow.
Fine tremors I can’t control quake through my body, and I curl my free hand into a fist so I can’t see it shaking. I concentrate on the sharp bite of my nails pressing into my skin, wishing that I’d picked up my sweater downstairs, so I could curl into it now. I feel naked and exposed with my bare arms.
“It means that if we don’t remove that binding spell, you might eradicate half the town-- but once you have access and control of your magic, you could obliterate the whole town with your will alone.” She looks down at our joined hands and sniffs. “What humans callActs of God, you can create on a whim. Spirit witches at the height of their power could literally change the very fabric of person’s being.”
This is too much. I want to go back to joking about reenacting Fantasia and making fun of the weird blood magic chest. I want the stairs to be the hardest thing I face today. Not fucking godhood. No. No. No.
“I’m seventeen,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes. “I don’t know how to be a normal person… I was nevertaughthow to be a normal person.” My chest convulses under the pressure of my emotions, as I fight to keep from shutting down. “I can’t-- I can’t be a-- goddess. I don’t want to have this much power.”
She gathers me in her arms, which is an awkward reach over our laps, but I don’t care. I feel like I’m free falling, and Mildred is my last hope for an anchor. She rocks me gently, my head pressed against her shoulder and her hand stroking my hair. With a shuddered breath, I breathe in her rose perfume, the scent a growing connection to the feeling of safety and love.
“Oh, sweet girl,” she murmurs wetly, and I can feel her tears drip against my forehead. “If I could, I’d take away all of your pain, and give you the life you desire, because you deserve that and so much more. But I can’t. All I can do is hold your hand through the unknown, offer you all the knowledge I have, and guide you to the best of my abilities.”
“I’m scared,” I choke out, the first time I’ve openly admitted to such a thing.
I feel jittery inside. My stomach is a tumultuous mix of desperation to lay my fears at someone else’s feet and the knee-jerk feeling to keep it all inside. The call is strong to retreat into the safe numb space in my mind where the world can’t reach me.
“I know, but remember, you’re not alone,” she says, squeezing me tight. “Your friends stand with you, and now that you’re with me, the council will have to pry you from my cold, dead fingers.”
“Can you not talk about dying, please?” I demand.
“I’m sorry, but not to worry. I may be a breeze compared to you, but Iamquite powerful in comparison to everyone else,” she assures me, then mutters bitterly, “and that Neva woman is going to thoroughly regret underestimating me.”
I kind of snort-choke over my aunt’s distaste for Gina’s mother, and with a harsh sniff, I wipe at the tears that have escaped. Between my earlier workout and my rollercoaster of emotions, I feel bone weary and hollow.
“Just try not get us chased out of town with fire and pitchforks,” I request jokingly, trying to collect myself. “I kind of like it here.”
“Oh please, I’m far more subtle than that,” she scoffs, then after kissing the top of my head, announces, “I do have some good news. We’re not working completely blind.”
Mildred gives me another hard squeeze, before releasing me and getting up to walk back over to the trunk. She kneels back down and begins rummaging through the books.
“What are all of those books for?” I ask with vague interest.
I surpassed my threshold of batshit insane several revelations ago, and I give up the fight. A familiar numbness starts to take hold, and with it, an almost full disconnect to the rest of the world. It falls like a sheet of glass between me and reality-- and my feelings along with it. Healthy? No. But this keeps me functioning.
