Icon of the Indecisive (12 page)

"But...What about you?"

"I don't experience time as you do. And I am patient."

Could something be too much and too little at the same time? I felt like I had everything and nothing that moment.

"But you love me, don't you?" I blurted out.

He kissed my hand again, but now I felt the promise behind it. He bent forward and kissed my forehead, the tip of my nose, and very briefly my lips. The shadows around us shifted, seemingly because of the rising sun, but I knew better. 

"
Forever," he said. "You'll understand how long that's been, and will be, soon."

I took his hand in mine and traced a heart into his palm. "Can you add that to your note somewhere?" I asked. "Just so I know it's there."

And then we sat like that for a long time, not speaking.

Until I asked the stupid question. "So this is it for us then? In this lifetime I mean."

"I don't know. You're the one who can see the future. I'm not worried though."

"It just feels weird."

"You'll get used to it."

Having everything and nothing? I could only hope.

But I would have to learn how. "I have a request. For your dad, if you can relay a message to him."

I wasn't sure how long that would take. But by the time Robbie arrived later that morning to come and get me, it had already been granted.

When I told him that I was sorry, and that I would like the chance to be happy with him...

I had no idea what he was going to say.

No idea how he felt, what he would do.

I asked Bathala to make him immune to the
Goddess. Release him from any devotion to me.

He said nothing, and just kissed me. He would be someone who'd walk me to class, take me to school dances, let me hang out with his family.

This, my first real chance at love, will be done right. It may not be forever, but it will be treasured while it's here.

Chapter 29

I am beautiful today and I know it.

My return has not been easy, and I have some explaining to do. But the work is done.

I see him, my Quin, Joaquin, Apo, and other names and faces across time.

He is happy to see me. I kiss him deeply.

"The war is over," I say. I kiss each of his tired, recovering fingers. "You're safe now."

"What did you do?" he asks, concern mounting.

"Aman and I made a deal."

"You shouldn't have done that."

"What matters is he has agreed to stop. He will submit to Bathala's hierarchy again. You will restore order and he will not interfere."

"In exchange for what?"

"I will be going away for a while."

"What does that mean?"

"Exile. I will not be harmed. I demanded that I be comfortable."

If he had more strength, the grip he has on me now would hurt. "You know it must come to this," I say, "We have to give him his due. Aman's anger is coming from love."

"It's envy."

"It's from love. Trust me, please. The hurt from his lost love is too deep, and we can't move past it until he forgives those who took it from him."

"But we didn't take her from him."

"And yet we are allowed to have what he was denied. It isn't fair, I know, but this is what makes sense to him. This is how he can begin to forgive."

It has dawned on him now that I am saying goodbye. "How long will we be apart?"

"For as long as he says."

"Where will you be?"

"He has chosen a mountain. I will have everything I need. It will be better than hiding from war."

"You may be visited?"

"By those who need me, yes. But not you. Unless he allows it."

Quin's hand balls into a fist. "You shouldn't have done this."

"I prefer this than the dreadful waiting to see what you've inflicted upon each other." There are tears on his face. I try to kiss each one. "I believe that I can appeal to his kinder nature to release me sooner. But if he doesn't, don't worry. I will be safe, and we will live forever."

"You were never this patient."

"I learned from you."

We have tonight, still. That is more than most people have, and Quin knows it.

We make it count. We make it matter. We make memories that will sustain us until we can see
each other again.

Until then I will be, temporarily, Hannah of the mountain.

The End.

Author's Note

I can't believe we're here.

In the two years that I've been writing the
Interim Goddess of Love
trilogy, two scenes were clear to me from the beginning, and they just happened to be the last two of this book. So for months and months, I've just been writing toward it, hoping not to lose steam and patience along the way.

A
n audio commentary of the
Interim Goddess of Love
trilogy is available free at minavesguerra.com, in case you wish to know more about what's real (or based on actual myth) and what's fictional in Hannah's world. Thank you, Chris Mariano, Meann Ortiz, Tina Matanguihan, and Chachic Fernandez for participating in the discussion.

Thank you, Michael Co, Layla Tanjutco-Amar, Tania Arpa, Rhea Bue, Kamla Villanueva, Jan Sarte, Leo Malapo,
and Chef Sharwin Tee, for helping with all the big and little things that a writer of a YA fantasy romance needs.

Mina

www.
minavesguerra.com

www.
facebook.com/interimgoddessoflove

About the Author

Mina V. Esguerra learned everything she needed to know about writing romances from Sweet Dreams novels and the Buffy the Vampire Slayer TV series. When not working as a communications consultant, she writes contemporary romance, young adult, and new adult novels. When not working and writing, she's hanging out with her husband and daughter. Visit her site http://minavesguerra.com.

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Interim Goddess of Love

Queen of the Clueless (Interim Goddess of Love #2)

An Interim Goddess of Love short story

Gifted Little Creatures

I am Maya, Goddess of the Moon, and I am grounded.

What that means, apparently, is I cannot leave the house. No checking my phone, no going online, no television. The words themselves ("grounded," "not allowed," "forbidden") mean nothing to me, but I am letting the woman ("Mom") who sees herself in charge of this mortal form believe otherwise.

I am feeling benevolent lately.

It wouldn't be so bad to stay home for a week, actually. This mortal form's social schedule is unrelentingly social; her only time alone practically is when she sleeps (and sometimes, not even). I matriculate in a higher learning institution majoring in business, run student government, organize at least one weekend soiree per month, am actively involved in a dozen or more different circles of friendship, save stray animals.

It would be nice to take a breath.

"Mom" is angry. My relationship with this woman is more volatile than those I've had with previous caretakers of my mortal form, when I've taken mortal form. Hair color, height, index finger circumference — these details change, but some things cannot help but remain the same. The Goddess is always beautiful, always adored, always somewhat feared. Previous incarnations of "mom" knew how to handle this, knew to let this mortal form do as she wished. This one was not so accepting of her role in the greater scheme of things. "Mom" this time is Angela Castillo y Gerardo, and though to any bystander her life would seem enviable and easy, the truth is more complicated.

She hates her daughter.

Maybe it's that simple.

It is envy, and I recognize it, and in fact saw it in those eyes early on. As a goddess I can do something about it, of course; that is something Bathala will tolerate, if only to help retain some sort of harmony during this particular stay among the mortals. But I am also intrigued by this, and curious to see how long it needs to gnaw at "Mom's" soul before desperation sets in.

In any case, it is the first day of my detention, and I intend to sleep. That is not to say that I haven't anything planned. There is a solar eclipse today. A good day to set things in motion.

***

Too soon after the war I fought against my brother the sun, our father came to see me.

I didn't want to talk to him, but he does as he pleases. I understand where Apo and I get it from.

"You are recovering well," he said.

I don't speak for a long time. My father likes words, likes to hear them, likes to compare combinations of them, likes the weight of them in the air. It is why he asks for praise despite being able to command it.

I don't speak because I am still mad at him, and I know that I can show it by withholding my words.

He waits, but I don't give him the satisfaction. I reach for a speck of light floating between us and take my sweet time attaching it to my hair.

I could do this forever.

"There is the matter of your sister," he said, finally.

Tala of the stars. The coward.

He winces, and I know he has heard my thought.

"Now that you and Apo have divided the kingdom, I asked her where she wants to be. And she says she wants to be with you."

Yeah right. Like she was any help to me when I challenged my brother to the right to rule. And when he actually fought me for what should have been mine. She said nothing because she was waiting for a victor, and now that it's a draw she wants half of what's mine?

I turn away from my father.

"The truth is, you have to take her, Maya," he says. "She will not survive with Apo."

Not my problem.

"I command it."

As always.

"She will provide safe passage to all who ask for it, Maya. One day you will need her."

I need to rest, is what I need.

He chooses to emphasize the moment by illuminating the space we are occupying, and I see my reflection in the mirror that faces me always. I have a scar underneath one eye. I was wounded at battle, and it hurt like nothing a goddess is ever supposed to feel. It has not healed. It looks like it will never heal. It didn't need to happen.

"You look beautiful," he tells me.

"Not enough," I say.

***

So I can eat while I'm grounded. That means that this detention ranks at least a 2 on a scale of usefulness (100 being most useful). In other times, wayward children were disciplined through mortal peril, but offspring of the next generation are always weaker. I can also take visitors, which makes no sense as my mortal form is a magnet for them.

Maybe I talked in my sleep earlier, unknowingly broadcast my plan out to the universe. What a coincidence that the day I choose to rest, the day I decide to make one move forward, is the day I get unexpected visitors.

I sense my father's hand at work and I brace myself.

My first visitor is Tala. At this time she is a sandy-haired, slipper-wearing young man, skin dangerously sun-damaged, teeth unnaturally white. A drawing of a whale shark on his (her) shirt has faded from repeated washings. She is on the other side of the room but I feel gritty from the sand she must be shedding onto the floor with every step.

"Thanks for not dressing up for me," I say to her reflection on my mirror.

Her voice carries a tone that isn't from here. It sounds like it was formed on two different sides of the world.

"You look beautiful, Maya," she says.

They always say that.

"What did you tell my mother?"

"You mean the woman downstairs? That we met diving."

"I've never been diving."

"Not right now, you haven't, but you'll enjoy it, I'm sure."

"I would rather not." The thought of being in the sea does not appeal to me. The sea is of course governed by another member of the extended family, and he and I don't get along so well.

"Too bad. I'm a dive instructor now."

That explains the general look. Tala-as-dive-instructor makes herself comfortable on my bed, my beautiful, comfortable bed, and she enjoys the look she sees on my face as she does it. Tala constantly tests me, the way a child pokes a finger right into the spot you just said to stay away from. It astounds me that as goddess of the stars, provider of safe passage, she gets any devotees at all. And of those she has, that they don't end up wandering aimlessly into a void.

"You're going to explain why you're here soon, right?" I say, examining the row of hairbrushes laid out in front of me, and selecting one with a wide wooden handle and soft bristles.

Tala could use a bit of grooming, so this all amuses her. "Are you busy?"

"Yes I am, far too busy if you're just here to say hello."

"When was the last time I just said hello?"

Tala is smiling slyly, and this bothers me a little. It doesn't matter when I last saw Tala. She is a squatter in my kingdom; we occupy it together, we are always together. But this is not what she means, because she's speaking in mortal terms, the way time and space locks them down to the earth and keeps them there.

"Fine," I decide to let her play this out. "What do you want?"

"I've had an interesting few months," she tells me, "You'll never guess who has been hanging out in a remote fishing island south of this place."

"You'll never guess" is again one of those word combinations that make no sense to me. I am infinite; no riddle of yours will keep me guessing. But Tala speaks again not as we do, and I know what she is talking about.

She knows what I want.

"Diya told you why she's here," I do not guess, but confirm.

It is possible to know and not know someone, especially in my family.

Knowing someone is a given. We are all-knowing, after all. But what does that mean, when you can know anything? You decide you don't want to. So when it comes to my much younger relative Diya, I know everything there is to know about her, but I don't know her at all.

When she disappeared, no one knew where to find her. I've since found out where she is, but she's not speaking to any of us. I've kept my distance, because tantrums like this are common in my family. Like when Aman stopped attending family gatherings and only made his presence felt by destroying every vessel that sought Father's blessing as they set out to sea. It wasn't like Father couldn't stop him, but he let it happen. Aman had just been chastised and needed to feel powerful somewhere.

Of course the men stopped asking for Father's blessing eventually.

There was also that time when Apo retreated into a corner of his kingdom, punishing himself over what he had done to me. But that was voluntary, and though he didn't resurface until much later, we always knew where he was.

I admit that I didn't really bother with Diya before. She was the youngest of all of us, and when I heard that Father had given her power only over men, I didn't care for it. It seemed like the easiest among Father's duties, and I paid little attention.

"I've found Diya," Tala says now, proudly. The face she is using is handsome, rugged, and, come to think of it, exactly what a certain woman wandering in this world would want.

"Are you sure it's her? Maybe she's dead."

"You know she can't be. We'd have known."

"Yeah, well, we don't know everything apparently."

"She sought safe passage."

"She asked for you?"

Tala smiles again, and I want to rub it off her face. "You thought she'd come to you first?"

Yes I did. I am the goddess of the moon.

"What do you want?" I ask her.

"Notice that I'm coming to you with this information," Tala says, her hands smoothing nonexistent wrinkles on my sheets. "I want you to let me be."

"What are you talking about?"

"I let you have this, and you treat me as an equal."

"I do treat you as an equal." And yet as soon as I say it, the words fall flat. They are weak.

Tala smirks. "You will. I give you this and I will appreciate not being treated as a toddler your father asked you to babysit. I will not have to ask you for anything. I get to do what I want, just as you and everyone else can."

"You've always been able to..." I start to say, but she cuts me off.

"Believe what you want to, but you will do this for me. You know that there are others I can bring this to."

Yes there were. It's always a point of family curiosity, when one of us figures in a scandal. Cousins, aunts, and uncles like to talk and speculate. A few would care to know what the real story is.

Only one or two would care about what it all means.

I care.

"You are free to do as you please from now on, whatever that means to you," I say. "Now tell me."

***

My second visitor is Apo.

He cried, so I forgave him. My brother, I mean.

There is so much expected of him. As eldest he thinks he is to be everything to everyone, and my lazier siblings are all too willing to let him do all the work.

But I know what work means, and it is power. He shouldn't have it all. He works so well, though, better than any of them would have been able to, and he carries his burdens silently.

It's annoying that he's here, by the way.

My throat tightens, an instinct I have, always resisting being in the same place with him. I notice his mortal form, the same age, the same bearing, a male version of mine in the ways that mortals wouldn't recognize, and I swallow my next word.

He's here for the same reason I am, I know it. How... absolutely like him.

"You look beautiful," Apo is saying. Yeah yeah, we know that.

"Let me guess," I cut him off as he begins another compliment. "You're here for Diya."

He does that thing where he doesn't speak.

I am all-knowing, so I choose to know. Apo is easier than most.

In the moments that he spends silently half-smiling, I am finding out what he's been doing. There is the same humdrum school routine, pointless sporting activities, intermittent interactions with young people.

And there is a girl.

***

We don't experience time as mortals do. The stories we tell confuse their minds, and even those who've looked to me for inspiration have trouble making something of what I've shared with them. They think something's creation happened long in the past, and its destruction in a future close enough that they may influence it by doing something. (How funny.)

They are wrong. It is all now. But they can't see beyond a point in either direction.

There is an old story that my brother will fall in love.

"Fall in love" is a pathetic way to describe it. What it means is that something will fundamentally change in him. Anything that drastic has a chance to alter even me, because he and I are so connected. That has always worried Apo, because he isn't used to change. I have since decided that I will accept it, even welcome it.