The Sword-Edged blonde (21 page)

“I suppose she told you all this?” It was hard to maintain my ironic distance with all the conflicting emotions suddenly churning inside me.

Epona nodded. “Right there in that bed. Where all secrets are revealed and all the walls come down.”

Now I knew this woman was nuts. Even if Cathy was interested in women, she wouldn’t just hop into bed with some drunken tart who lived in the woods. She also hadn’t had time, since she’d barely been gone the length of a dart game. “Right,” I said disdainfully.

Epona picked up a short, straight pipe from among the debris and pulled a stick from the fire to light it. She took a deep draw, leaned back and sent a stream of smoke toward the ceiling. She smiled, her eyes closed.

“Honestly, I don’t understand why you people don’t fuck all the time. What an experience—better than drinking, or smoking, or food, or
anything
. I thought I was prepared, I thought it couldn’t compare with what I knew, but
damn
. Your world is full of so many things you can touch, but
that
—touching each other—oh, man, is that the best.”

I rubbed my temples. The heat and smoke were giving me a headache, and I saw no reason to endure this crap any longer. “If you’ll excuse me, Eppie, I think I’ll head back to town.”

She looked up at me. Her gown fell off one shoulder, revealing perfect skin and the curve of her bosom. “You don’t believe I am what they say I am, do you?”

The sudden entrance of sexuality into the situation hit me with the force of a hammer to the stomach. I kept most of it out of my voice, though. “A goddess, Eppie? No. I don’t believe that.”

She tossed her head to get a stray lock of hair from her eyes. “But it’s true. I am a goddess. I chose to come here, to join you in this reality, to see what flesh felt like, because I love you all. I know all your thoughts, your
dreams, your darkest secrets and brightest hopes. But I didn’t know what it really felt like to be clothed in flesh like you, until I decided to share it.” She nearly dropped the pipe as she brought the bottle back to her mouth. “You’re all so
hungry
, you have so many
appetites
.”

“Well, we like to keep busy.” I was annoyed, but there was an edge of sincerity to her I couldn’t explain. And I was thoroughly, almost embarrassingly aroused. To change the subject I asked, “So did you like your package?”

“Package? Oh, the trinket Cathy brought.” She looked around on the floor until she found it. “I knew it was coming. I wish it didn’t have to. But the world unfolds as it should.”

She handed it to me. It was a small, worn iron horseshoe, the kind you could find on any pony. Dirt and rust coated it. “Wow,” I said. “Lot of trouble for something so ordinary.”

“Yeah, Eddie,” she said distantly, sadly. “Andrew Reese has finally found me. Do you know who he is?”

I shook my head.

“Andrew Reese is broken to pieces,” she sang, and then repeated it over and over so that the rhyme, and the man’s name, were forever imprinted in my brain. Devils must sing it in hell.

Then she blinked, shook her head and looked up at me. “What were we talking about?”

I undid the top button of my sweat-soaked shirt. With the fire at my back and Epona before me, I felt like I might burn to a cinder. “Who’s Andrew Reese?”

She bent forward and rested her elbows on her knees. She held the bottle in one hand, the pipe in the other. “That’s why I wanted to see you. Let me tell you a little
story, Eddie. Once before, I decided to walk among you. Not like this, not as one of you. But simply to let myself be seen and heard
as
a human being. I formed an island safely off the trade routes but near enough I might be visited. I made it a paradise, with plenty to eat and drink, but completely uninhabited. And then I waited. I had plenty of time, you understand.”

“I imagine you would,” I agreed.

“And so my first visitor arrived. Andrew Reese, a handsome young sailor who’d been washed overboard by a storm and managed to survive long enough to reach my island. I let him wander around for a while, get used to the place, until I finally decided to let him find me. I chose a form that he would like, that of a young woman beautiful by his standards.”

She grinned mischievously. “You should’ve seen me, Eddie. I was tall and willowy, delightfully fragile-looking, and yet I allowed my strength to shine through. I made my hair golden, because I knew he liked blondes. My birds attended me, always nearby but never landing. My horses awaited my command.
I
was such a sight, though, I don’t think he ever noticed them.” She took another puff on the pipe. “He only had eyes for me.”

“How’d it go?”

“I brought him to a cottage a lot like this one. I even put out a lavish dinner, with some of this.” She held up the wine bottle. “That turned out to be a mistake.”

“Now how can a goddess make a mistake?” I asked, convinced I’d finally caught her in a contradiction.

She was too tipsy to notice my mocking tone. “Okay, not a mistake, exactly. See, I decided not to allow myself full access to my knowledge of things. I wanted to feel surprise, to understand truly what it must be like to
not know
. So, because of that, I did something that, had I been at full oneness with everything, I would not have done. I gave wine to a man who should never, ever drink.”

“What happened?”

She snorted. “A drunken sailor, a pretty girl, what do you think happened? He didn’t try to rape me, exactly, but he wasn’t in the mood to take no for an answer. I finally had to subdue him, which he later put down to too much wine. After all, no mere
girl
could overpower him. But I did warn him not to ever again try to compel any living thing on the island to act against its wishes. My little experiment was important to me, I’d grown fond of what I’d created, and wanted to really see what this man was about.”

The gown had slipped further down. I wanted above all to kiss the line of her collarbone over to her neck. I couldn’t believe I was so monumentally, thoroughly horny; I hadn’t felt this much single-minded lust since . . . ever.

“When he sobered up the next day, I watched him in secret as he wandered around the island,” she continued. “My animals were gifted with a higher awareness than those you know, so when he spoke to them, he could tell they understood. I didn’t let them talk back to him, because I didn’t want to send him screaming for the hills. But I did want him to get an inkling of the gentleness and goodness existing beyond his normal perceptions.”

She paused for another draw on the pipe. “He understood,” she said in a cloud of smoke. “He felt it. Andrew was a decent man, with a kind heart and the ability to feel love. Until he started drinking again. This time he did attempt to force himself on me, and I let him know
I was no ordinary woman. I broke his thumbs like that.” She snapped her fingers to illustrate the ease. “I told him that I’d forgive his bad manners once, but only once, and if he did it again, I’d show him just what I could do. Then I healed him. Of course it didn’t occur to him I was a real goddess, he just thought I was some well-studied magician or witch. Again, if I’d let myself know all I could know, I would’ve seen this wasn’t the best approach.”

She tossed the pipe casually into the fireplace, where it fell between two burning logs. She stood and walked to the door. “He stomped off, furious and embarrassed. He found a squirrel, who’d become his special companion over the time he’d spent with me, but he was in no mood for its compassion.”

She paused, looked outside, and when she turned back tears glittered in her eyes. “He grabbed it and tore its head off as easily as I’d hurt him, because in his drunken rage and humiliation, he had to hurt
something
. He threw its little corpse aside, discarded like some piece of garbage. This squirrel had been his friend, you understand, it had followed him and listened to him and kept him company so he wouldn’t be alone. It brought him nuts and placed them at his feet. And he killed it with no more thought than I just gave to that pipe.”

She took a drink, followed by a deep breath. “Whew. Sorry, it’s just all so fresh to me. That squirrel was part of me, just as you are, just as everything is. When I felt it die, I grew furious, and let my pain lash the island in a storm. I almost killed Andrew with it, in fact, but I was not about to let him off that easily. He fell asleep in the cottage I’d made for him, but he awoke the next morning back on the beach where he’d washed up. I’d wiped
the island clean of everything, so that it was only a bare rock in the water.”

She walked back to me as she spoke. “I told him exactly who I was, exactly
what
I was, and that he was to leave. And do you believe it? He had the audacity to say, ‘And what happens if I don’t?’ ”

“What did you do?”

She smiled coldly, and for the first time since I arrived at the cottage, I felt a little hint of fear. “Oh, Eddie, I showed him just what a pissed-off goddess was capable of. I snapped every bone in his arms and legs, then pushed them up into his torso. I twisted him into human jetsam, Eddie, and cast him back to the sea.” She gestured with the bottle, sloshing wine across the room. “And I cursed him with the worst fate I could imagine; a long, long life.”

She nodded to indicate the end of her story, took another drink and fell heavily into the rocker. “He’s still alive, too. He wants to die, because the pain never dims for him, but I’m not ready to let him. Not yet.” She finished the bottle and flung it vaguely toward the kitchen, where it shattered against the wall. “But as you can probably understand, he’s still pretty mad at me.”

“Yeah,” I said.

She looked at me with narrowed eyes, as if she’d just noticed the effect she’d had on me. “Uh-oh,” she said, her voice slurred, “I got so wrapped up in my story I forgot about yours.” She jumped up, nearly fell backward and, giggling, extended her hand to me. “Come on, Eddie. Time for your reward.”

She pulled me to my feet and over to her bed. I put up no resistance. When she pulled the sheer gown over her head, I noticed for the first time that she was deathly
pale and emaciated; as ill, in fact, as Nicole had said. Not that anything, at that point, was a turn-off. She was still the most sexually arousing woman I’d ever met.

I gently lifted one of her arms. Great scabbed welts ran along the inside, almost from her wrist to her elbow. Some were red and oozy from infection. “Damn, Eppie, what happened?”

“Hm? Oh. This.” She pulled her arm free, held it up and dug her fingernails into the soft flesh. She ripped down to the inside of her elbow, and gasped at the sensation. I grabbed her before she could repeat it on the other arm. She struggled weakly in my grasp.

“Don’t stop me, Eddie, I
crave
this. Ripping myself open reminds me, in any weird, twisted, perverted way you want to call it, that there
is
life and a world to embrace.”

The blood ran in thin trickles down her arm. There should’ve been more; her illness was serious. But she sighed with almost sexual satisfaction as the pain faded. “I have visions of poking a stiletto through my cheek,” she said breathlessly. “Imagine the tear. It’s tough, the cheek. But it can be broken.”

“You need help,” I said.

She shook her head. “I need to be
fucked
. I need to feel it the way you do, while I can. I’ve indulged every human impulse. I’ve opened this body to everything, to every
one
. And it’s killing me. I don’t have long, Eddie. Neither do you.”

I should’ve pursued that comment. It was right there, the bit of information I needed to understand the imminent danger. But when she blatantly grabbed me between my legs, my baser instincts took over, and I no longer cared about anything else.

She pulled me onto the bed. I disrobed as quickly as I could, and she spread herself for me without delay. She wrapped her legs around me and pulled me close, her hands in my hair. Her body was hot with fever, yet amazingly strong. I looked down at her face, drawn tight with something more like pain than desire, and felt emotions I could barely remember gush through me like a river. “Please, Epona,” I asked seriously. “Tell me how you know about Janet.”

She kissed me with a tenderness that, to this day, can bring tears to my eyes. It was a kiss of such compassion, such unconditional love, that it melted every wall I’d built around my heart and opened me to her. She held me while I cried and said, “I know about Janet, Eddie, because I welcomed her when she crossed through the veil. I felt her pain, the horror at what happened, her utter terror at both dying and leaving you.”

I rose and looked into her face again. I saw every woman I’d ever loved, in any sense, in those dark eyes. My mom, my grandmother, Phil’s mom, Janet of course, and even Cathy. “I really tried,” I sobbed. “I would’ve died, too. I wanted to. But I didn’t. And they made me
watch
. . . . ”

She caressed my cheek. “Shhh, Eddie. Janet’s safe in the Summerlands now. She’ll wait there for you. But she also knows you have more time in this world, and wants you to be happy here.”

“With Cathy,” I said as I wiped my eyes.

Epona shook her head. Her voice grew harder, sadder. “It’s too late for Cathy. And it never would’ve worked, anyway. She’s close to what you need, closer than you can imagine. But she’s not the right one.” She kissed me lightly. “It’s not too late to learn from it,
though. Don’t be a jackass next time, LaCrosse.” She arched her back. “And for now, don’t be anywhere but with me.”

Like I had a choice. I don’t know how long we made love, but I couldn’t get enough of her, and before we were done we’d explored every inch of each other with hands and mouths. I rolled her onto her stomach at one point, and as I took her from behind she hissed, “Lick my neck, Eddie. I love that.” I obliged.

During one intimate passage, I felt a rough patch of skin on the inside of her thigh. I touched the horseshoe-shaped, puckered design. “Is that a scar?”

She rose on her elbows and looked down between strands of tousled hair. “I do believe it is.”

I rose and met her eyes. “Now how would a
goddess
get a
scar?
” I asked dubiously, and kissed it.