Page 10 of For the Ghastly and Beautiful

“So, she messes with my mind, and you play with my emotions? That’s what has been happening, right?”

I bite my lips, aiming to taste blood. I need to watch my mouth, but the accusations aren’t speculation anymore. Isolde told me it’s Spiran who’s messing with me, visiting me… and now talking to me.

Thoughts of delusions and psychosis echo in my mind. If I weren’t two-hundred percent sure this place and these experiences were real, I’d swear I was hopped up on antipsychotics in a loony bin somewhere.

After contemplating my question, she concedes with a nod of her head, her waist-length white hair falling to cover the right side of her face.

“I suppose you could view it that way.”

“I do.”

“You are a stubborn one, aren’t you?”

“Normally, I’m in a much better mood.” I flare my nostrils at the goddess. “Death really did me in.”

Spiran grins, pearly teeth flashing in the light she casts through the darkness. “I understand why the Mongrels are so captivated by you now.”

“Have you been playing with my emotions?” I know I’m cutting straight to the chase, and it’s rude; I just don’t care anymore.

“A little. But I’ve had only the best intentions behind my interference, for you and those who are drawn to you.”

“Why?”

“You had to learn to trust again. And they needed someone who could help them. They’re scarred and hardened, believing they are bound by duty. Yet one woman can bring forth so many personalities from their self-imposed shells.”

I rest my palm on my forehead as I dig my fingers into my damp hair. It’s still wet from the rainstorm, which leads me to believe not much time has passed.

“Why would you—” I stumble over how to articulate my thoughts to the goddess. “How can I trust them if you’ve planted all those feelings?”

“I did nothing of the sort,” she snaps, indignation heavy in her tone. “Intuition draws you to a select group of people. I simply pushed you a little closer to the ones you liked. I don’t tamper with emotions outside of that, and I’ll stop what I was doing. You’ll see that you’re still just as intrigued by the people who surround you.”

I rub my hands over my face, feeling the roughness left from the salt water. I’m not sure if I want to laugh or cry, but my chest feels immovable and my eyes burn with the coming tears of hysteria.

It’s not regret over my decision to stay that upsets me. It’s not understanding the actions of the divine. But who could? I don’t even understand my own actions or thoughts half the time… Which is what causes the oh-so-classic question to pop out of my mouth.

“Why me?”

She shrugs, but it’s more like bouncing light near her shoulders. “You picked up the spear.”

I throw my hands in the air. “I was being dirty.”

“But were you?” Spiran inquires, humor making her voice a playful echo around me.

“I’m not the person you’re looking for,” I state, but the words taste wrong. Thick ash coats my tongue, the acrid flavor making my throat tighten.

“A bowl is a bowl. It doesn’t matter what fancy name you attach to it.”

“Quoting fortune cookies sounds weird coming from the goddess of an entire world,” I snark.

This deity killed me hours ago, but I still find myself somewhat enjoying her company, no matter how perplexed I am by some of her truths. Somewhat being the keyword.

“You can say you’re not the person I’m looking for, but that’s not the path you’re walking—”

I narrow my eyes at her, hearing the abrupt cut in her answer. She wants to say more; she doesn’t know how much I can handle.

“Say what you want to say.”

She fluffs the length of her gown before frowning. “You chose the spear on Earth, in a traveling museum, when you were a child. I simply waited until you were ready to give up before I brought you here. Am I wrong for that? You were so close to harming yourself. I couldn’t let you do it.”