For a second, it was like staring at one of my drawings again.
I kept finding myself paralyzed by her, unsure how much time was passing.
“A spider,” she said, pointing to the thing with her chin.
I shook my head. “You will not hurt it.”
The lady would not budge in her efforts to kill the spider. She gripped the shoe tightly, so I yanked it from her stubborn fingers and tossed it to the ground.
A winter breezewhooshedbetween us when I stepped back.
“Must you always resort to violence?” I asked her, walking to the cliff.
She didn’t respond.
She only gazed at me with both curiosity and hesitance.
I held up my hand for the spider. It crawled onto my finger and skittered across my glove. It was odd in the way the spider acted toward me, scampering around my wrist and along the length of my knuckles like a wicked friend.
I lifted my hand to the cliff, letting the spider go and out of harm’s way, then sank back down by the fire until my bottom met cold sand.
My attention returned to the lighthouse as I tried to avoid eye contact with her, but it was impossible. Each time she was here, she surrounded me. Her eyes were bewitching, drawing me in until I had no choice but to see them. A presence that inhaled all the air around me until I had no choice but to breathe her in.
“People say creatures here don’t act as they should,” she said, her melodic voice speaking to me in a way that left me no choice but to listen. “In the books I’ve read, spiders don’t trust humans, and ravens don’t squawk at night. It’s different here.”
I cleared my throat. “Like how the days are shorter?”
She slung me a curious glance as she fed the fire. “It’s winter.”
“Light appears at nine and dies at three. It doesn’t set but dies as though snuffed out by night. Even in winter, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
The lady glanced away, refusing to acknowledge my claim.
Flames jumped to the top of the cave, and she turned toward me.
“I brought you warm clothes.” She set the bag beside me, and it angered me that I was in this position to need clothes at all.
“The clothes should fit just fine,” she continued. “There’s a coat and boots in the bag, too. And some socks. They’re my dad’s, but you need them more than he does. He has plenty.” She crouched down before me, stealing my gaze. The length of her dress pooled in the sand around her feet. “You don’t have to eat my food, but at least wear the clothes. You’ll get sick if you don’t.”
I spared a moment, letting myself take her in.
She was beautiful, a porcelain ocean, with silver hoops crawling up the shells of her ears and jewelry lining her agile wrists. I lowered my eyes, following the gentle curve of her neck, collarbone, and chest, where a chain hung between her round breasts. The prongs held nothing in the setting.
There was a strangeness in seeing the face my mind had always turned to.
I was always intimate with the way she looked back at me.
Like how she was looking at me this very moment.
She smoothed her dress around her bent knees, and her long golden hair fell around her shoulders and arms as she reached out her hand. “How’s it healing? Let me take a look.”
At this, Mother’s haunting laugh shivered through me. A grating sound.
I pulled away. The lady was only trying to help, and I was retreating.
She sighed when she said, “Do you think that maybe we could start over?” My gaze found hers again. “I’m Circe.”
Two light jade eyes shifted between mine, and she lowered them with a nudge, hinting at the bandage wrapped around my waist. She offered a smile.
