Effie dropped her hands. “Who are you? You’re not a god.” She would have known if a god had approached. But how could someone other than a god have this necklace?
Then she felt it. Her brother’s presence. He stepped out of the shadows, wearing the same cat mask as the man who had her model the necklace.
Her brother gave her a broad smile. “It’s good to see you again, sister. You remember Pandora, don’t you? Like her, my messenger is wrought from gears and dreams.”
Effie’s voice sharpened with her curse. Where had he found an automaton?
“Now, now,” her brother chided, “such language doesn’t suit you. The necklace? Merely a precaution. Consider it insurance. Sending my messenger with it was the only way to ensure you’d accept my invitation.”
He was right. She would never have accepted a gift from a god she didn’t trust, especially her brother. The necklace was burning hot. It wouldn’t mar her skin... would it? This was no invitation—it was a kidnapping. “Who wants to meet with me?”
He held out an arm. “I’ll take you there. Come.”
“Do I have a choice?” She seethed. She wasn’t sure she had ever had cause toseethebefore. It made her stomach roil uncomfortably.
“Of course, sister of mine. You always have a choice. But, as you know, choices have consequences.”
Effie knew the consequences of wearing Harmonia’s necklace. It had turned the goddess Harmonia and her husband, Cadmus, into serpents. Later, when it had passed to Queen Jocasta of Thebes, she wound up marrying her son Oedipus. And less known to most, after wearing the piece, Anne Boleyn and Marie Antoinette both lost their heads. She had to get the cursed thing off—and fast.
She gritted her teeth and let her brother lead her out of the club, the masked automaton trailing in their wake.
I
1
December 2018
Aida stared at the email from her publisher hovering on her laptop screen like a digital albatross, the cursor blinking expectantly for a response she didn’t have.
Dear Ms. Reale,
It is with deep regret that we inform you that due to a financial setback, Ovidian is ceasing operations immediately. Unfortunately, this means we will not be able to move forward with the publication of your book. We understand how much work you have put into this project, and we deeply apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.
Aida wanted to throw the laptop across the room. Why did they choose to send this email on Christmas Eve, of all days?
The news was particularly devastating. After numerous rejections from academic publishers, three months ago she had finally secured a contract with Ovidian, a small but respected publisher known for its niche focus on history and art. Her book about food featured in Italian tapestries was supposed to be her breakthrough, a scholarly work that would boost her reputation. Instead, the sudden closure of her publisher meant her manuscript, which had taken years of research and writing, was now in limbo.
As if that wasn’t enough, she had just completed her final semester of teaching. At the end of the spring semester, the university announced her department would be downsizing due to budget cuts, reducing faculty and course offerings. With the semester over and no new job lined up, Aida was officially unemployed. She had spent the summer and fall applying for positions, but the competition in history departments was fierce, and the loss of her book contract was another blow to her prospects. Now, the reality that she might not have a job in the new year loomed large.
The comforting scent of cinnamon wafted from the kitchen, where Graham was attending to the holiday details she couldn’t muster the energy for. “Where are the goblets?” he called out.
“Top shelf in the pantry,” she said, eyes still glued to the screen. “Red box. Can’t miss them.”
A few minutes later, the soft shuffle of feet announced her fiancé’s presence in the doorway of the living room. He had five years on Aida’s thirty-four but looked much younger. With his wavy brown hair and blue eyes that had a boyish charm, he could have just stepped out of a holiday rom-com. He held a glass of mulled wine. “What’s wrong, love? You look like the world just ended.”
“Ovidian is shutting down. They won’t be publishing my book. I don’t know what I’m going to do. This was supposed to help in my job search, but now... And with the wedding coming up, how can we afford it?”
Graham’s expression softened, and he immediately crossed the room to sit beside her, handing her the wine. “Oh, Aida. I’m so sorry. I know how much this meant to you.” He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “But listen to me, we’ll get through this. The job market is tough, I know, but you’re brilliant, and there will be another opportunity out there. As for the wedding, I’ve told you a hundred times that we’ll make it work. We won’t let this ruin everything. We’ve come too far, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll think outside the box.”
Aida leaned into him, the warmth of his embrace easing the tightness in her chest. His words were like a balm, soothing the jagged edges of her anxiety. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You won’t have to find out,” Graham replied softly, running his fingers over her necklace with a little silver star pendant, an engagement gift he had given her that she wore daily. “We’re in this together, for better or worse, remember?”
She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. “It just feels like everything I’ve worked for is slipping away.”
As if on cue, the doorbell rang—a discordant jingle that seemed oddly out of place in the quiet moment. Aida reluctantly got up to answer it, expecting Graham’s parents to have arrived early. But instead, she found a luxurious black envelope with golden embossing placed meticulously on the welcome mat. No courier in sight, no sign of who had left it. No stamp or address, just Aida’s name printed in gold block letters. When she picked it up, it was quite cold—whoever had delivered it had not kept it in a purse or a coat pocket. There was only a neat line of footprints in a dusting of snow. They came from one direction, up to the town house, then back down the walk and off in the other direction.
Returning to the living room, her curiosity piqued, Aida broke the wax seal and opened the envelope with a sense of anticipation she hadn’t felt in a while. The invitation inside was printed on luxurious paper, embossed with gold lettering that caught the glow of the Christmas lights.
