5. Still walking
STILL WALKING
WILLOW
There are two of them. The man is tall, broad-shouldered and tanned, with dark curls brushing the collar of a cream-colored tunic. A weathered leather pack hangs from one shoulder, and the sword resting against his hip looks well-used instead of ceremonial.
He doesn’t look like someone expecting a fight. Instead, I get the feeling he’s preparing for a journey.
The woman facing him is a few years younger than he is. Chestnut hair tumbles over her shoulders in loose curls, and the pale blue folds of her dress ripple softly as the setting sun falls on her. She’s beautiful, of course, though in a much more approachable way than Cassandra.
She’s also incredibly expressive. Everything she’s feeling is written plainly across her face.
She looks tired, though not exhausted like I am.
More like this is an argument that they’ve had countless times before, and she’s only hoping that the outcome will change this time even though she knows better.
“Theo,” she says again when he doesn’t answer her. “I don’t want another goodbye. I want you to stay with me in Delphi. Like you’re supposed to.”
The man shifts the leather strap over his shoulder. “I won’t be gone long, Aria, my princess. I’ll be back before the seasons change again.”
“That’s what you said when the leaves started to fall. I didn’t see you until after the snows melted, and now you’re leaving me again.”
His shoulders rise and fall with a slow breath. “I know. But I’m a hero. That’s what heroes in the Other do. We must go on quests to satisfy the magic. If you want our story to have a happy-ever-after, I must go.”
She folds her hands in front of her, and I can feel the ache of her heavy heart from where I’m watching them. “Why hasn’t our story ended yet? If you’re my soulmate—”
“You know that I am.”
Her expression says she’s not so sure. “Then why must you always go? Theo… Theseus… maybe you’re meant to stay with me. Start a family. Give up the quests… unless you’re hiding something from me.”
Oh, no. Did I just stumble upon the Ancient Greek version of a soap opera here? Is he cheating on her?
Theseus… the name is familiar. What did he do in Greek mythology? And Aria… who can she be if she’s anyone at all? I don’t remember—and then Theo (or whoever he is) speaks again, and I want to throw a rock at him on her behalf.
“I promised you when you accepted me as your soulmate that I would never betray you in this lifetime. We have a second chance at a future together. But, to do that, I must go when adventure calls. If you love me as much as you claim to, you’d understand.”
My nose wrinkles. Dick. If you loved your Aria as much as you want her to believe you do—and, suddenly, I’m not so sure—then you wouldn’t manipulate her like that.
I want to warn her. However, before I can, he adjusts the pack on his back again, then brushes his thumb across the height of her cheek. “Wait for me, my princess.”
Her brow furrows. “You know I will, but—”
For this guy, there is not “but”. He starts to walk away without a backward look at the woman, and though she stares at his back as he goes, he never once turns around.
Only after he disappears does she let out a sound that’s suspiciously close to a sob.
Nope. I can’t just sit here and stay quiet. Even if I know better myself than to interfere, I have to say something.
Clearing my throat, I move out where she can see me. Her head was tucked into her chest when I make my presence known. She lifts it up, and I see that her blue eyes are shining with the gleam of unshed tears.
I give her an apologetic smile. “Sorry about eavesdropping. I didn’t mean to. I was just following this dog—”
As if on cue, Sir bounds out from behind the tree at my back. He yips happily, and I drop low to rub his head. And, okay, maybe I’m giving her a chance to wipe away the tears before I stand up again.
Once I do, I look at her and see the hurt all over her face. “Okay. I know it’s none of my business, but I can’t help myself. I heard the way that guy—”
“My husband,” she whispers.
Of course he is. “Girl to girl? You can do so much better than him.”
I don’t try to be nosy. I’ve just always had this heightened sense of justice. Of right and wrong. I’m one of those people that takes “if you see something, say something” to heart, whether I should or not.
She probably doesn’t want my two cents, but in case she’s too close to the situation to see what’s so clearly plain to anyone on the outside, I just have to say something.
To my surprise, she bites down on her bottom lip. “I… I know. But he’s my soulmate. The Fates gave him to me. Shouldn’t that mean something?”
Um. Maybe. Considering I have no idea what any of that means, I give her an awkward shrug. “Shouldn’t what you want mean something?”
“I… yes. I suppose you’re right.”
She looks so thoughtful for a moment. Her eyes drift toward the path her husband had taken, walking away from her.
And then, with a quiet nod toward me and Sir, she turns and walks away in the opposite direction.
Once she’s gone, Sir lets out a litany of excitable barks. When I look down at him, he’s already trotting toward a third narrow trail that is leading deeper into the woods.
“Right.”
I give the trees where Aria walked off into one final glance, wishing her the best of luck, before I hurry after the puppy.
And… I’m still going.
I’m still following Sir, too.
I feel like I’m about to keel over, but until I find somewhere that Sir decides it safe for us—away from cyclops and witches and heroes with commitment issues—I guess I’ve gotta keep walking.
This kind of sucks; the portal fantasies never make you realize how terrible it is to keep on trucking in some sort of mythological world, especially when you’re stuck wearing day-old clothes and house slippers.
And while I spent my entire life up until this summer living in one of the most walkable cities in the country, this is a little out of hand.
It’s been hours, and I’m beginning to think that Sir has no idea where he’s going, either.
Sir trots ahead of me, his tiny tail sticking straight up while the path continues to twist through a part of the forest that seems as endless as every other part he’s guided me around.
Persephone told me to trust the hound, and since I have no other choice but to listen to the voice that seems to live inside of me, I do, even if I feel like I’m going to have to sit down and rest sooner or later.
It’s dark now. Moonlight peeks through the trees, the silver glow shining on the flowers that continue to sprout beneath my ruined slippers.
At first, they only appeared when I lost my slipper and stepped on the ground with my bare foot, but about an hour back, they started to show up sporadically regardless of if I’m wearing shoes or not.
I still don’t understand that. I’ve tried stepping lightly. I’ve tried hopping over bare patches of earth. At one point, I even walked backward for a few paces to see if that made any difference. I don’t want to leave a trail, but it looks like I have no choice.
Flowers bloom wherever I go. I recognize daisies.
Pretty wild roses. Then there are these flowers with purple blossoms I don’t know, along with tiny blue ones that close whenever Sir sniffs them.
No matter what I do, the forest floor is turning into a garden behind me, marking our path so clearly that I’m beginning to think Hansel and Gretel would’ve had a much easier time if one of them had been able to create flowers instead of dropping breadcrumbs.
Then again, their breadcrumb trail was eaten by birds. Mine might attract another cyclops. Or a witch. What about a couple having a marital spat?
Or a monster…
I let out a nervous giggle.
I can’t help it. The more I’ve come to accept that, wherever the mirror brought me, I’m in a world where Persephone is my new conscience, a puppy with orange eyes is my guide, and I saw an honest-to-God cyclops stumble by the bush we were hiding in.
He’s only one monster. In Greek mythology, there are thousands.
I’ve gotten lucky so far. My biggest problem has been figuring out how to pee outside without getting it all over my formerly white slippers once Cassandra told me that the babbling brooks were safe to drink from, and that the fruit from the trees could feed me.
But, if this is some mythical re-do of Ancient Greece I’ve found myself in, where are the monsters?
The other gods? The heroes and the kings and the places where they live?
Where am I?
I don’t know, but, so far, we’re alone again. It’s just me and Sir, and as though he thinks that something is going to come along and swoop me away, he keeps yipping and turning over his shoulder, checking to see if I’m still there.
He’s obviously leading me somewhere. To his owner, maybe? A smart, cute puppy like Sir can’t be a stray, can he? If he is, I might as well keep him with me. As small as he is, one of those monsters I can’t help but imagine could gobble him up, and I would feel absolutely terrible if that happened.
I’ll keep him safe. Even if Sir seems to think that he’s watching me at the same time, at least we’re making it through the woods together—
Wait a second? Where did Sir go?
Darn it. I got distracted, watching a goldenrod poke its way through the dirt, sprouting into existence by the toe of my slipper. I took my eyes off of the puppy for a second, and now I’ve lost him in the ever-growing darkness.
“Sir?”
A small bark comes from somewhere off to my right.
I follow the sound, pushing through a thicket of bushes until I find him standing beside a moss-covered stone. It comes up to his little shoulders and, because I’m apparently traveling with a puppy who refuses to admit that some obstacles are bigger than he is, he attempts to climb it.
His front paws make it to the top. His back ones scramble against the side.
He slides down, then immediately tries again.