When Papa had calmed down, I sat with him and explained all of my travels. Though he grimaced at certain parts, my time with Lyn and Abraham and the night I’d pulled the vine from my skin, he hugged me tightly and kissed me on my head.
I tucked into him, wrapping my arms around him. When we separated, I resumed my usual routine and set off to do my chores. I beat out the rugs, washed any dishes left, and even warmed a tub to wash the laundry in. After hanging it outside, I grabbed a book, one that I’d yet to start, and read while I waited.
Though usually Papa might have teased me for so readily doing the laundry, or scolded me for reading, he said nothing. His routine progressed normally.
Even aware of the sun sinking into the trees across the road, I didn’t realize the hour until Papa called me in for supper. Once I collected the laundry, I scuffled inside to eat. I dropped the basket in the kitchen and sat beside Papa at a table.
Professor Lester sat across from us. We ate in near silence. My occasional compliment of the meal and the professor’s concurring comments were the only noises heard. As we each finished, we quietly dismissed ourselves. Without even an offer, I piled all of the dishes in my hands and settled in the kitchen.
When I had immersed my hands in the sink, lathering dishes, Papa entered the kitchen. He leaned in the doorway. “I’m no fool, you know.”
I stopped and furrowed my brow. “I never said you were.”
“I know you’re leaving again.” As I opened my mouth to object, Papa stopped me. “Just be safe. I can’t lose you again.”
I heaved a sigh. “I wouldn’t if I didn’t have to. It’s my mother. For possibly the first time ever, she needs me. Poseidon…he’s hurting her, and it’s my fault.”
Papa shook his head and spun me by my shoulders toward him. “Jenny, you can do whatever you need to, but whatever has, or will, happen to Athena is not your fault.”
My guilt chewed away his words, rendering them useless. I nodded. “I don’t want to leave home again.” I wiped my hands on my dress.
“I know, sweet, but you’re so brave. Not many people would risk their own life for someone who’s hurt them the way she hurt you.” He referred to the week after her departure in the winter when I’d crawled into my books and barely spoken a word to anyone in a futile effort to avoid crying myself to sleep.
“She has, but nothing unforgivable. She’s done more than her share of good. I owe her this.” My eyes met Papa’s, the grey color holding hints of sadness.
More evident was the pride in his voice when he spoke to me. “I’ve never seen you so determined. I suppose you really are a woman now.” He clapped my shoulder and kissed the top of my head. “You’ll not go unprepared.” From his pocket, Papa pulled out a leather coin pouch.
“Papa, I’ve my own money, you know.” I tried to hand it back to him, but he curled my fingers around it.
He sighed and hesitated. Before I could question him, he said, “No, you’re not to spend your money until you’re at the university.”
I choked up a response. “What?”
“No matter the cost, I’ll send you to the university. I want you to study, to be happy. You’re too bright for this inn. You always have been. And I was far too selfish to admit it until I almost lost you. I want the best for you, and trapping you here isn’t that.”
I shook my head. “Papa, I’m not trapped here. This is my home.” I didn’t mention the possibility of not coming home, of dying. I changed the subject away from the university. “My plan is to contact Persephone through Morpheus, so if I’m not in bed in the morning, I managed to figure something out.” I yawned.
He stroked my hair off of my face, his thumbs brushing my chin. “Be safe.”
“I’ll try, but I might run into a problem as I attempt to talk to a goddess who put a curse in my arm, captured me twice, nearly killed my boyfriend, and strangled me on multiple occasions.”
Papa embraced me again. “I need you to come back. You can’t do that to me again.” He kissed my head. “Good luck.”
“I fear I’ll need it.” When I peeled out of the hug, I said, “I’ll be back. I promise.” I offered him a small smile. “I’ll always come home, Papa,” I assured him.
Papa returned the grin. “I know you will.” He finally stepped away from me. “When you go, there’s a loaf of bread in the oven that I didn’t put out.” When I gave him a questioning look, he shrugged. “Sometimes, you just know. Go rest up.”
“Goodnight, Papa.” I kissed his cheek and wrapped the loaf of bread in a cloth. I carried it up to my room with me. In my room, I lit a lantern and set it on the floor. I slid onto my stomach to peer under my bed. Beneath Papa’s sword was my deflated knapsack. I pulled it out and wiped the film of dust off the leather flaps. Inside of it, my dagger was wrapped in a leather belt. I tucked the bread along side it.
My father’s brass pocket watch rested on my bedside table. I curled it in my hand. Letting the chain roll over my fingers, I slipped it into my breast pocket.
A metal canteen sat on my bed. I popped open the cap and tasted fresh water. A note beneath it was from Professor Lester. It read only “Best of luck on your travels.”
I smiled and put it along side the bread. I remembered the coolness of the stone walls, and I packed a sweater and extra socks. Other items fought for their way into my knapsack, but I decided that sleep would be infrequent, I’d not make it until winter, and books were too heavy. I swallowed. “What should I say to Morpheus? Can you perhaps find Persephone for me? I know she might kill me, but I was thinking we could buddy up to get into ocean.”
I buried my face in my hands. “Sleepwalker, I need you to take me to Persephone because my mother thinks that she holds the key to freeing her.” I shrugged. “It’s not terrible.” I paced my room. “Mother, this is ridiculous! How could you send me to do this with only hints of a plan? You know Persephone detests me.” I heaved a sigh. “Okay, fine. You’re the strategist here.” I pulled a book from my shelf. “Naturally,” I said to the book of Greek myths that I’d unintentionally stolen from Professor Hort. Without changing into my nightgown or taking my boots off, I laid on my bed.
My knapsack sat beside me on top of my quilt and sheets. I flipped through the book, hoping to find something to distract me long enough to fall asleep. My clouded head and aching limbs begged for a thick dreamless sleep. I had to deny them. “Morpheus, come in my dreams. Please, I beg you. I need to speak to you tonight,” I said when my arms and legs filled with lead and my eyelids fluttered closed.
A dark cloak enveloped me, chilling my core. Spiny fingers like branches on a dead tree curled across my back. “Genevieve, are you well?” The grin in his empty hood was nonexistent.
“I’m fine, but Poseidon has my mother still. He’s been using her magic and the blessing she took from me to invade my dreams.” I thought about what that might have done to him. “Are you alright?”
He sighed. “I’ve been stronger certainly. It’s why I’ve kept away. Trying to speak to you has been exhausting. I’m certainly no match for Olympian magic.” Morpheus gestured to the dream, only stark white space. “You’ve certainly seen better illusions.”
Guilt wrapped around me at his words. “Your presence is enough. I called you because I need your help. Given your current state though, I feel it better not to ask.”
“Now, Genevieve, you know I am your guide. If you need my help, I will give it to you, just not in the way you initially intend.”
A smile twitched to my lips. “Thank you,” I said, “My mother has used my dreams to try to convey a plan to me. I need to speak to Persephone, and you are perhaps the only one who’ll get me to her.”
“What of her mark? Hasn’t she cursed you?” His hood tilted downward, presumably casting a gaze down on my arm. “That’s a nasty gash, isn’t it?”
I shook my head. “I ripped it out. Dill ripped it out, rather.”
“Ah, Anteater! Will he be joining you to meet Persephone? I know the two of them get on quite well.” When I shook my head, he said, “Just as well, I suppose. She’ll ignore him if you’re there. You know of Persephone’s…distaste toward you. She’ll not wish to help you, even for your mother’s sake.”
“Even a direct order to see her from my mother? She knows I wouldn’t go anywhere near her of my own accord.”
He circled me. “She can hardly tolerate your existence. She’ll justify hurting you with any excuse she can. In this instance, she will note your selfishness and call you a liar.” Before I could object, he said, “Not everyone carries themselves with your honesty, especially gods. Before you believe the best of them, I will tell you that they are all cheats, liars, and thieves. They know manipulation better than they know themselves.”
“I’ll have to keep myself from giving in then. Persephone tried to guilt me when I last saw her, and I stabbed her. I’m sure that will not help win her over.”
Morpheus’ grin returned. His grey teeth revealed his thoughts. “Perhaps you’ll not have to win her over. She is still loyal to your mother, correct?”
I nodded. “Yes, well, if my mother could fetch herself, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” I thought for a moment. “You don’t mean…I could never pull it off!”
Morpheus flicked his hand, filling the space in the air with her image. “I don’t see why not. A few more inches, darker hair, more mature features, you’d be fine.”
“You possess the power to change appearances?”
He laughed. “Oh, Genevieve, where do you think your mother found the power to do that under the ocean? Honestly.” He shook his head as if my question was ridiculous. “If I were to disguise you, I’d not have the energy to send you all the way to Persephone, but there is another I could send you to, someone much closer.”
“Even if you were to make me look like her, it’s not the appearance I worry of. How could I possibly impersonate a goddess who’s older than the era itself?”
He laid a bony hand on my shoulder. “I will remind you only to hold your apologies. Though she is polite, she is cold and she acts as if she is always right.” When I merely studied my feet, he said, “You know her well enough to deceive Persephone.”
I turned my head up toward him. “I’m not so sure of that.”
“I am. Now, you’ve taken me from the dream of a woman and her lover. Surely, you’d not deprive me of the chance to play the lover, would you?” When I shook my head, he said, “I thought not. Now, chin up, you’re about to become lady Pallas Athena.”
I fixed my posture, trying to imagine my mother. Her back would be ramrod straight, her chin would be pointed toward whomever she spoke with, her expression flat and bored. “Morpheus, could disguise my belongings too? And my clothes? Persephone would not believe that my mother would wear boots.”
“It’s taken care of, Genevieve. Do not panic when you no longer hold your backpack or your dagger. Now, are you ready?” With my uncertain nod, Morpheus held his hands in front of me.
A gust of wind rushed out of his sleeves, blowing my hair out of my face. It was gentler than the storms he usually produced. When it stopped, I peered up at him.
“Morpheus, nothing happe—” From the corner of my eye, I saw my hair pulling up, curling into itself and turning almost black. I studied my hands as my fingers became perfectly groomed. The small scars from years of kitchen accidents that littered my hands faded away. A rich olive tone glossed over my pasty, freckled arms. My legs ached, stretching gradually.
Morpheus waved an arm and a looking glass appeared in from of me. My ears set back, folding in closer to my head. The faint freckles across my nose vanished as my nose changed. My cheekbones protruded; my jaw strengthened. My face grew longer. Though the color of my eyes darkened, the shape hardly changed.
The face belonged to my mother, but the expression, one of sheer terror, was definitely my own. I straightened it and tried to exude confidence. Every inch of my body itched with discomfort. “Morpheus, a pleasure to see you again. To what do I owe the honor?” My voice was sultry, velvety. It verged on sarcasm.
He gave me an approving nod. “Remember to act as she would…Lady.”
I laughed. “Thank you for your attempt, Morpheus, but you offer information that is obvious to a trained eye.”
“Not half bad, Genevieve. Persephone is raising summer in Skeraf Varld. I’ve not the energy for you and my dreamers, but I’ll send you to someone who has enough to spare. You’ll have to fool him as well.”
Anxiety set in. “I thought it was just Persephone! I can’t fool another god, or risk him finding out. Morpheus!”
“Calm yourself. Every time I begin to think you’ve the confidence to do something, you fling yourself into a panic.”
I steadied my breathing and attempted to imitate my mother once more. “You truly think that I lack confidence? I’m sure whatever task you’ve invented is easy enough for a child. Though, if I may inquire, how long will I be like this?”
“You’ve a day, so you’d best make haste. If you’re caught, Olympus will send both of us to Tartarus.”
I flicked my hair from my face, still surprised at the dark curls around my head. “Then we’d best not get caught. Now, whenever you’re ready, I do believe—”
My voice broke into a yowl of surprise when I was falling through whistling wind, hurtling toward the ground. I landed on my stomach with a fierce oof. Once I righted myself, I rubbed the soreness from my shoulder. “I certainly may look like a goddess, but that…” My voice faded off as I stared at the inn before me: Hans’ Haven.