Burned

there is little you cannot do once you set your mind to it, my beauty.”
    Aphrodite nodded, squeezed his hand before letting go. She unzipped her black leather stiletto boots and scooted back on the bed, resting against the mound of down pillows.
    “Protect me while I’m gone?” she asked her Warrior.
    “Always,” Darius said.
    He moved to stand beside the bed, reminding Aphrodite very much of the way Seoras stood beside his queen’s throne. Pulling strength from the knowledge that her heart and her body would always be safe with Darius, she closed her eyes and willed herself to relax. Then she drew three deep, cleansing breaths and focused her thoughts on her goddess.
    Nyx, it’s me. Aphrodite. Your Prophetess.
She almost added “at least that’s what everyone’s calling me,” but stopped herself. Taking another deep breath, Aphrodite continued:
I’m asking for your help. You already know I’m not real sure how this Prophetess stuff works, so it won’t surprise you to hear that I don’t know how to use the gift you’ve given me to help Stark—but he does need my help. I mean, the guy’s being sliced up in one world and flailing around trying to use poetry and an old guy’s confusing words to help Z, in another. Just between us, sometimes I think Stark’s more muscle and admittedly good hair than brains. Clearly, he needs help, and for Zoey’s sake, I want to give it to him. So, please, Nyx, show me how to help.
    Give yourself to me, daughter.
    Nyx’s voice in her mind was like the fluttering of a diaphanous silk curtain, transparent, ethereal, and beautiful beyond belief.
    Yes!
Aphrodite’s response was instantaneous. She opened herself heart, soul, and mind to her Goddess.
    And suddenly she was the breeze drifting along the delicate line of Nyx’s voice, soaring up and away.
    Behold my realm.
    Aphrodite’s spirit flew over Nyx’s Otherworld. It was almost indescribably lovely, with endless variations of green, brilliant flowers that swayed as if to music, and sparkling lakes. Aphrodite thought shecaught sight of wild horses and the many-colored flash of peacocks in flight.
    And all throughout the realm, spirits flickered in and out of view, dancing, laughing, and loving.
    “This is where we go when we die?”
Aphrodite asked, awestruck.
    Sometimes.
    “What sometimes? You mean if we’re good?”
Aphrodite had a sinking feeling that if being good was the criterion for getting to this place, she would probably never make it.
    The goddess’s laughter was like magic.
I am your Goddess, daughter, not your judge. Good is a multifaceted ideal. For instance, behold one facet of good.
    Aphrodite’s spirit journey slowed, bringing her to a halt over an amazing-looking grove. She blinked in surprise as she studied it and realized it reminded her of the grove near Sgiach’s castle. As she made the comparison, Aphrodite sank gently down through the canopy of tightly knit leaves to rest just above the thick carpet of moss that covered the ground.
    “Listen to me, Zo! You can do it.”
    At the sound of Heath’s voice, Aphrodite whirled around to see Zoey, looking so pale she was almost translucent, and Heath. Z was pacing around and around in a circle, looking totally creepy, while Heath stood still, watching her with an incredibly sad expression.
    “Zoey! Finally! Okay, listen to me. You gotta pull yourself together and get back to your body.”
    Completely ignoring her, Zoey burst into tears, though she didn’t stop pacing. “I can’t, Heath. It’s gone on too long. I can’t bring my soul together. I can’t remember things—I can’t focus—the only thing I know for sure is that I deserve this.”
    “Oh, for shit’s sake. ZOEY! Stop bawling and pay attention!”
    “You do not deserve this!” Heath stepped close to Zoey and put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to hold still. “And you
can
do it, Zo. You have to. If you do, we can be together.”
    “Great. I’m
Christmas Carol
-ing like the damn ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and whatever. They can’t hear a fucking word I’m saying!”
    Then perhaps, daughter, for a change, you should listen.
    Aphrodite stifled her sigh of frustration and did as her Goddess advised, even though she felt like a creeper gawking through someone’s bedroom window.
    “You mean it, Heath?” Zoey stared at Heath, seeming for an instant more like herself than the freaky ghostly thing that couldn’t hold still. “You’d really want to