So silent here after the hurried rush of the Repository's constantly busy foyer. I sighed into the quiet, feet slowing though I did my best to keep a steady pace, the rising song of the cherubs growing in volume until it rang its sickening tune into my very bones. The vines to the Garden parted, the door opening with a deep, musical chime that set my teeth on edge.
Life's realm. The last place I wanted to be.
At least there was no misty doorway this time, no disorientation. My imagination after all, since this was now my second foray into the Crosspath without seeing things. Thoughts to distract me as my shoulders grew heavier, my whole body now lined with lead while I forced myself to take that last step through the doorway and into the Garden.
Nothing had changed since I was here last, least of all the brilliantly blue sky, the disgustingly cheerful and colorful birds that swooped and sang in heartfelt abandon over the Garden. Sparkly water ran in a river through the middle of it, cutting a path across the over flowered greenery and lush grasses of the meadows and flowed off into the distance. The bridge entry stood much like Death's, only it towered over me, golden and shiny, all winding vines of precious metals and jewels to match the doorway entry. Even the cobbled stones that made up the path of the bridge were embedded with diamonds, emeralds, rubies. Mom spared no expense and not a scrap of self-respect in designing the Garden.
If tacky could be personified, she'd managed it. From the stench of too many flowers bearing constant perfume at war with each other to the frolicking deer and other woodland creatures who cavorted in joyfully dazed enthusiasm to the shining beacon on the other side of the bridge, the epicenter of all things Garden. The Tree of Life Palace and Casino.
I grumbled to myself about the casino comment, wishing there was maybe some kind of entertainment center so I could at least find occasional amusement in the cloying perfection of Life's Garden. But no, that would be too much to ask. Instead, I would be forced yet again, for six long and agonizing months, to live the equivalent of an annoyingly chirped children's song running over and over and over in my head, past my vision, and clogging up my sense of smell.
It was almost too much. I halted abruptly on the entry of the bridge, one hand clutching at the warm, metallic vines, heart pounding at the thought of crossing into the Garden. Gone would be my sensible black shoes and favorite dark jeans, my casual button ups and denim jackets. Replaced immediately by flowery sun dresses and impossible heels that made my feet ache and my embarrassingly ample bosom threaten near constant escape. At least my untamable hair would find some kind of magical order, though even Mom's attempts to control my curls fell short. Sometimes I thought my mother really had no clue, that her dominating and arrogant outlook on Life, literally, cast some kind of spell over her and held us all in its thrall while in her company. And, other times-like now, staring down my fate for the next six months, I figured she just hated me.
Eve. Her voice dug into my mind, part command and part alluring request. I'm waiting.
There was still time. I could turn around and go see Dad, beg him to hide me. Tulip would, I was sure of it. She could find me some hole and cover me in books and coffee and no one would ever find me and force me to live here ever again. I swatted at a cheerful purple butterfly that tried to settle on my nose. Possibly endearing if I wasn't ready to hurtle myself over the edge of the bridge.
Desperate times, desperate measures.
Darling. Her voice got me at last, softening, turning to that caring, mothering tone that tore at the little girl still inside me. Shredding me the way she had to know it did, her emotions flowing through that word. Come to Mother.
Knowing I was, once again, lost, I slunk my way across the bridge, head down, refusing to be cheerful despite the endless, demanding joy that existed all around me.
It wasn't as if I didn't know Mom was pulling my strings. She'd always been able to manipulate me, way more than Dad. Maybe that was where my excessive empathy came from. I was happy to blame it on her, anyway. Truth being, I was just more cynical about my mother's love. Probably because Dad had never really tried to bully me. Getting what she wanted was Life's favorite past time.
Made worse by the fact she insisted on results while Dad was understanding. Could I even hang on to hope he'd finally convince her to let me go my own way and figure out what I was meant to do? Or would I be spending six months with my sisters avoiding and/or hating me and my mother's disapproval growing heavier and heavier until I was able to run for Undertown once again?
The stones of the courtyard on the front side of the Tree chimed with each step. I gritted my teeth against the bright sound and wished I was dead. At least then I could stay in Undertown and not have to come here ever again.
I was ready for the change but it still took me by surprise, just like always. One step my foot was comfortable, hugged by nice black leather perfectly fitted to my toes. I'd spent six months breaking in a new pair of my favorite Mary Janes. How had I forgotten to change them before I came? My own fault, this loss. Kicking myself, I winced as they vanished between heartbeats, replaced by shining white high heels. I staggered, catching myself as the sudden height difference made me stumble, hands clasping the full, flowing skirt of my dress. I tugged at the off the shoulder affair, my black curls dangling free in spirals that didn't quite manage perfection, wincing at the corded gold crisscrossing my chest, making my boobs just look bigger. While most of my sisters were well-endowed, for some reason my chest seemed gargantuan in comparison. Especially in a sundress.
Self-conscious and walking on the balls of my feet so I wouldn't fall, I wobbled my way, beaten and defeated by my mother's control over me, up the wide, white marble steps and into the foyer.
I never told her how funny I thought it was her palace seemed designed exactly the same as Dad's, down to the fountain in the lobby and the side entry to the Chamber of The Living and the Book there. Only her fountain was a towering statue of her, naturally. I refused to look at it, finally getting my footing as my poor feet screamed their unhappiness inside the high heels while I tapped my way to the throne room entry.
I wasn't surprised to find Daphne with Mom, Ophelia and Cadence off to one side, her faithful posse. Daphne was the leading favorite and, if Mom ever decided to step down, would likely become the new Life. But Mom had been on that throne for over three thousand years, long gone from her days as the Egyptian goddess Isis, and I highly doubted she was going to unseal her butt cheeks from it any time soon.
My sister's full, pink lips pursed, large eyes glittering her dislike as she crossed her arms over her own chest. I caught her looking at my cleavage with what had to be jealousy and almost laughed. She could have it. But it was nice to know she at least worried I was better at her than something.
Leave it to my chest to show up my sister.
"Well," Daphne said, tossing her perfect hair back from her perfect skin, slight tan a precise accent to the pale green dress she wore. Jewels sparkled in her honey blonde hair, curls bouncing with life. "If it isn't the disaster. Back for another six months of failure, Eve?"
"Enough." We both stared up at Mom with shock. Unlike Dad, she didn't wear her gigantic persona, but instead opted to greet me as herself, in mortal form. As stunning as my mother was with her thick black hair and brilliant blue eyes, there was a lushness to her that screamed Life, a beauty surpassing even the Garden she'd created. Stunning, perfect, commanding. I caught myself hunching inward as she stood and came forward in a languid sway. I dropped my hand from my elbow and tried to stand up straight without sticking out my chest too much. From the scowl on Daphne's face, I failed.
"Mother." Daphne's coy tone didn't fool me and I highly doubt it fooled Life, either. But my mother was fond of being pandered to, maybe the reason we didn't really mesh much. "Allow me to find some other work for Eve this time around. Perhaps tending one of the flower beds." Her wicked snarl in my direction lit me up. If only she knew. Please, oh please, yes.
But Mom clearly had other ideas. "Eve, my darling." She came to me, took my hands in hers. Warmth spread between us, making me flush from the heat of her skin. "I'm so happy you're home." She kissed my cheek while I struggled for something to say, Daphne fish-lipping in our direction.
My mother was happy to see me. That I was home. Not irritated I was late by her estimation, that I'd failed my last task with Dad. Wait, had he talked to her already? I could be so fortunate, that she'd agreed. Almost giddy with the wonder of it, I smiled back at her, feeling shy, oddly, from the genuine greeting in her aura.
"Thanks," I managed. Movement on my right caught my attention, Ophelia and Cadence just two faces in a small crowd of my sisters who lounged by, watching with shocked expressions of their own. How had I not noticed others of my sisters were present? Too caught up in Mom and Daphne, I suppose. The only two that really mattered. I cleared my throat and bobbed a quick, wobbly curtsy. "Mom."
She laughed, the sound of spring rain and a child's burbling joy in a velvety smooth package of delight. Her fingers brushed my cheek where she'd kissed me. Daphne made a gargling sound behind her, Mom's brows drawing together the tiniest bit in response.
This could not be happening. Daphne was her favorite. From the way my sister gaped, she was thinking the exact same thing I was. What changed?
And what did it mean for me?
"I understand your father would like to talk to us." Not her. Us. Including me where she always ordered me, commanded me, one arm sliding through mine, hooked at the elbow like we were suddenly the best of friends and hadn't we always been this close? Overwhelming emotion hit me hard, her feelings focused and intense. Life loved me?
Life. Loved. Me. I had no idea. And spoke through my shock.
"Dad wants to give me a chance to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing. That sending me on tasks as an angel of Life or Death isn't working."
Mom tsked and smiled sideways as she guided me to sit next to her. On Daphne's mini-throne. She'd never forgive me, but at the moment I didn't care. "Samael has his own ideas for you," she said, stroking my hand with hers. I'd never really sat this close to her before, shaking a bit, overcome with emotions I could barely sort out. This was a huge day for change and I wasn't sure I could handle it. "But I'm not convinced." She paused. "Eve." She frowned again, booped me on the nose with one index finger. "You're sixteen today." She said it with a hint of hunger, like that meant something. But what? I had no idea. "Tell me," she went on. "Did something happen to you in the Crosspath?" Intensity burned in her eyes and I found myself nodding, overeager.
"I thought... I saw another door." Daphne snorted, some of my sisters, but Mom ignored them and nodded, her hunger gnawing at me with need.
"Go on, darling. What kind of door?"
"Made of mist." Another chuckle, this one of derision. Louder, too. Mom's sharp snap of her fingers silenced opposition. I flushed, knowing how it sounded. But my mother smiled at me, her eagerness flaring before it retreated fully and everything was okay.
"Well now," she said, sitting back in her throne, beaming. "How interesting for you." She didn't say anything else about it, and I didn't ask how she knew. That thought wouldn't occur to me until long after I left her. Instead, wound into her web like I'd never been before, I gazed up at her, wondering how I'd ever doubted she loved me. "Eve, it's time you committed yourself fully to being an angel of Life." She gestured to Daphne who paled and stilled while my heart stopped beating. "You will go with your sister and you will fulfill your duty to me."
"Mother!" Daphne gasped, eyes bulging, hands clasped to her throat in horror. "I told you I would never-"
"And you will succeed." Mom silenced Daphne with her stunning stare. "Because you are my daughter."
It was enough to break the emotional hold she had over me. But that freedom was already too late. Shoulders slumping, knowing I'd just been manipulated by the creator of manipulation, I bowed my head and sighed.
While Daphne glared at me with such hatred I knew even if I managed to find a way to win she would see me crash and burn for this.
***