Statues Crumble, page 11
I was not my curse.
I should have been strong enough to heal myself, in the long run. Relying on a mortal was weak.
My goddess would have been ashamed of me. I had lived half of a life since my curse. I wanted to be more, feel more, live more.
She made me want more.
And I could never do that with my sisters haunting me. Their souls hadn’t been laid to rest, forcing them to be just as trapped as I was.
I couldn’t look at their faces, at the gentle understanding that was carved onto their features. They should have run from me, they should have killed me or exiled me.
Instead, they’d held me. Embraced me and kissed me. I tried to wear a covering over my eyes after the first death. But even a piece of cloth would eventually fail.
One by one, I killed them all.
I begged them to send me away. I tried to escape, tried to run. But I could do very little without my sight. Even outside of the temple, I destroyed boar and birds and lizards.
I was destruction.
I was chaos.
I was death.
If their remnants sat angry, if they screamed and shouted and brandished weapons at me, it might not hurt as bad.
The statues on the shores didn’t churn my stomach.
“Of course I will, Medusa.”
Her voice shook me from my thoughts. Turning to face her once more, I saw nothing but what might have been called… love.
“You can say no.”
“I didn’t.”
I pressed my hand to my mouth, trying to stifle the sob that punched up from my chest. “They’re heavy.”
“I assumed.”
“There’s a lot of them.”
“I’m not particularly busy these days.”
“Evadne-” I reached out, brushing the tips of my fingers across her cheek. “Why? Why are you so gentle with me? Why are you so kind?”
“Because you held me when I was sick, goddess. You gave me a roof over my head and food in my stomach. I was cast upon your shores as a criminal and a danger, and yet you touch me like I’m sacred.” Her own voice quavered at the edges. “Because when you lo-” Her eyes shut tight as she shook her head.
“When you what?” I pressed, taking a step closer to where she stood.
“Not here, not surrounded by your grief. I won’t use your emotions like that.” Her hands found my arms, creeping up slowly to cup my face in that inelegant, endearing, way of hers.
A comfortable silence blanketed us, surrounded by the ghosts of my past and the possibility of a future.
With her.
“Let’s take our leave,” I whispered softly, pulling her hand from my face to press a kiss against her skin.
She didn’t press as we wound our way back to the naos, didn’t ask any questions as I led her out of the temple and to the sands. Didn’t say a word as we sat near the surf, hands intertwined.
She leaned over, resting her unruly blonde mane on my shoulder. My snakes wound around her eagerly, draping down her back and across her neck.
“Tomorrow,” I muttered into the ocean breeze. “Tomorrow we can pick a spot and begin, if you’re still willing.”
“I will be. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.”
Something in my chest stirred, something that rattled my entire being.
Something shook free.
A pain that had wedged so tightly against my ribs, had been lodged for so long… I forgot it wasn’t a part of me.
I felt like I could breathe again.
It feels weird to get to the end of a novel(la) and have no one (in my real world human life) to thank.
Which I know it’s TRUE and isn’t FAIR. But I didn’t tell anyone I was writing this until I had the first draft completed. The only people that knew were me, the people that I sat with every day at Sweethut, and the artists that I worked with.
Which doesn’t mean that people don’t need acknowledgement, it just means that this was a quiet little project that I didn’t know how to get off the ground.
I wrote this entire thing over the course of a month, one summer, in a tea shop, where I was struggling with a block while wrapping up Propriety.
It was just supposed to be for me, and then it became for everyone else.
But I will say thank you to my beta readers, Chantelle, Bree, & Mack. As well as my phenomenal sensitivity reader, Dal Cecil Runo. This book wouldn’t have been possible without you!
As well as Leah and MG. Leah, your art is ALWAYS the thing that gives me the kick to finish what I’ve started. And MG — you took the most HALF BAKED idea for chapter headings and made them PHENOMENAL.
I am so lucky to have such amazing artists and peers as an author!
L.V. Brooks, Statues Crumble
