Page 57 of Lay It Bare

“You mean, not with me?”

“With someone else. Someday you’ll meet him.”

Ash frowned. “Him?”

Ellisandre smiled, a little sadly. “You were half right earlier. I don’t do drama. But sometimes the past comes back to haunt you. Do you know the story of Orpheus and Eurydice?”

Ash shook his head. Alice came back from the bathroom and sat down, turning her seat around to make a little circle with Ash and Ellisandre.

“Orpheus was a master of music. He sang and played an instrument called a lyre. Shortly after his wedding—a love match, to Eurydice—his mate died. Most stories say she was bitten by a snake. Orpheus grieved. Blessed by the gods beyond the capacity of most mortals, he descended down into Hades and begged the deities of the underworld to return his bonded. They were moved to grant his wish. He was told he could sing Eurydice to the surface, but he had to follow one rule.”

Ash leaned forward. “What rule?”

“He couldn’t look back.”

“He did, didn’t he?” Ash rolled his eyes and slumped back in his seat. “All these old myths end badly.”

Ellisandre ignored the interruption. “Just steps from the mortal world, Orpheus’s heart faltered. He couldn’t hear Eurydice’s footsteps. She was still a shade without footfalls to hear, but he couldn’t hold faith long enough. He looked back and only saw her for an instant, screaming in grief as the underworld reclaimed her, dragging her back down into the bowels of Hades.”

“Did he go back?” Ash asked.

Alice shook her head, answering for Ellisandre. “He couldn’t. Some things can’t be undone.” She looked pensive, as if thinking of something beyond the story.

Ellisandre leaned back in their chair. Like all mythology, there were many ways to understand the story. The myths changed with you. Ellisandre was not Orpheus and Sevastyan was not Eurydice, but Sevastyan was floating in the realms of the dead. Looking back before he came to life would be like trying to live like he was alive, before he was returned to life.

Or like teasing Ash about his place before he knew he had one. The rules of the underworld applied to the very last step, not just until the glimmer of the sun could be seen. Until one was truly free, then one was still bound. Orpheus had pushed forward and started to rely on his mortal ears and eyes when he was still in the world of dreams and metaphor. He’d started to doubt oaths and the rules of the realm because he was too anxious to be in a place he had not yet reached.

“Why this story?” Ash asked.

Alice nodded, also frowning in confusion.

Ellisandre looked away, pressing the nail of one thumb into the pad of their other. “I misjudged on which level of hell someone was. And now I have to descend further to call them back. Fortunately, I haven’t yet made a deal for their soul.”

“Can you?” Alice whispered. “In the story, Orpheus only had one chance.”

“They weren’t dragged away from me. I wasn’t given a rule. Because I didn’t ask the gods’ permission.”

Alice shook her head. “You’re either one of the gods, then, and you believe you can resist them, or you believe you already serve them.”

“It’s mythology,” Ellisandre murmured. “Not reality.”

“You forget my mother is a practicing pagan.” Alice shrugged. “I’m not saying the gods are real. I’m just saying the gods represent ideas. Archetypes that are real. That’s why the stories still matter.”

Ellisandre tilted their head to the side. Alice had never spoken like this before. “I didn’t know you thought anything of the stories.”

“They’re frightening.” Alice shivered. “But they help, sometimes. Some more than others. When Dana and I were running, I felt like I was in one of those stories. I kept thinking about Morgan le Fey and the Morrigan. I know they’re not the same, but those stories were what I was thinking of. I’d just done something that put me outside what is expected of a woman. I thought I’d left that man to die. And he deserved it, but I didn’t know what would happen when we stopped running. I didn’t know if anyone would believe me. All I knew was that I wasn’t letting them have Dana and I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. And Ash. I knew I had Ash. I didn’t feel nice, or safe, or sane. I felt wild and exposed. There were things I could do then that I don’t know if I could do today.”

“Except that you would, if you had to. That’s what the mythology shows us. What we become, when the crucible starts to close,” Ellisandre said.

Ash frowned. “Not everyone is good, when you’re pushed into a corner. Some good people start looking bad.” He looked away as he finished speaking.

Alice put her hand on his arm. “But you are.”

And so are you, Sevastyan, even if you hate yourself. Ellisandre had to look away. Alice and Ash were the next generation. They had their own story. And it would play out over the years, as all stories must. For now, it was time for the next chapter of Ellisandre and Sevastyan’s story. They needed to gather their courage and do as he had asked. Break him open. Use the drugs that he’d given them.

Even though they hated the very thought. It was one thing to have someone kneeling at their feet in ropes. They were with the person then—the two of them walking a path of dominance and submission, trust and exchange. This drug, this cracking open of Sevastyan’s psyche, though, this was a path they were going to have to walk alone. Sevastyan would be there in form and shade only. His self, his reactions, his push and pull and willing servitude would be gone.

He would be truly will-less.