WE RETURN to Evadne's house. The same nervous servant girl as before lets us in. She leads us to where the nymph spends her endless stretch of hazy summer days, lounging under the sun in her courtyard. All the while Marisol—the new immortal, far more powerful than some lowly nymph—dances around her feet.
Evadne greets us all warmly, pecking us on both cheeks. "You don't have to tell me anything," she purrs. "I've already heard everything." She saves Marisol for last, holding her hands in her own. "My daughter, my precious daughter."
Marisol hesitates. There's a weightiness to her that I never noticed before. She lifts her chin the slightest bit. Her dark eyes don't lack any of her usual warmth, but they seem much more guarded.
"Thank you for helping Antigone," is all that she says. "You made the right decision."
Evadne sniffles loudly. "I never doubted your abilities, not for an instant. Stay with me," she pleads. "Here. Let me—let me teach you all the things I should have taught you. Let me weave for you and cook for you and clean for you. Let me be your mother; I never got the chance. Please. Just for a couple of years. Just to make me happy."
Marisol looks like a deer caught in the headlights. I can see the no in her eyes, the yes forming on her tongue.
She can't do it, I think, maybe a little desperate. What are a few years out of the lifetime of an immortal? Nothing—except Marisol isn't your run-of-the-mill immortal. The people she cares about are mortal. I'm mortal, and one day I'm going to die, for good. And, dammit—I care about her, and I have no intentions of staying on this island. If she stays, I will not stay with her. I might not ever see her again. Now that I've had a taste of the wider world, I want to eat it raw.
"I'm sorry, Evadne"—not mother but Evadne—"but I have a home, and a family, and a life away from all of this. I want to return to it, and live that life for as long as I possibly can."
"All right, then. It's your choice." All of Evadne's warmth washes away with the current. "But come back to visit me, sometime, please."
"I will. I promise."
YOU ARE READING
A Shrine to an Unknown God
FantasyAntigone Katsaros was born and raised in a cult. Now, at eighteen, she doesn't know what wifi is, but she's well-versed in the old gods. [A Wattpad featured story.]
