“What’s she doing?” I asked quietly, praying Carmen wouldn’t hear me. She was parked on the living room floor, surrounded by a wall of pillows stolen from the couch and her bed. The pillow currently within the vice grip of her hands had become the unlikely victim of a butter knife. Tufts of cotton lay in her hair, on her clothes, and scattered around her pillow fort.
“She’s making it snow,” Phoebe murmured and hung her head. As if on cue, Carmen fisted another pile of pillow stuffing and flung it into the air.
“It’s better than making it rain, I guess,” I shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood.
“Snow! Not rain.” Carmen tossed up another snow shower and glared at me. Against my better judgment a grin snuck its way across my lips. I didn’t know if it was from lack of sleep or the sight of Carmen huddled on the floor tearing pillows apart, but a bubble of laughter forced its way up and I was helpless to stop it from spilling out. Phoebe’s green eyes flitted up at me in surprise, but the corners of Willow’s mouth were drawing up into a smile. I stood, gathered the ‘snow’ around Carmen’s fort, and set to making a snowman.
No sooner had I gotten a good ball mashed together for the bottom layer, than a hand came crashing down on top of it; forcing me to jump back.
“No! I’m using that for snow cream!” Carmen eyed me with obvious disgust. Willow burst into a fit of giggles and Phoebe finally smiled.
“It’s not funny!” Carmen growled at Willow, who was failing miserably at stifling her laughter. “Get your own snow,” she spit back at me and began to scoop up the ‘snow’ I had been rolling. Phoebe finally allowed herself to join in the laughter; silently at first, then louder once Carmen began to stuff the ‘snow’ back into the pillow from whence it had been ripped out of. It felt so good to laugh, we couldn’t hold it in. After my stomach had begun to hurt and tears were rolling down Willow’s face, we heard a loud knock at the door. Before anyone could get up to answer it, our visitor let themselves in and stomped into the room.
Olivia came to an abrupt stop in front of us; crossing her arms and raising a skeptical dark eyebrow. Her slinky blood red nightgown made me wonder if she had a visitor of her own next door.
However, it was entirely possible she slept in skimpy lingerie every night. I couldn’t picture her in anything as mundane as cotton shorts and a tank top. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head and her eye makeup had smeared at the corners of her eyes, but somehow she still managed to look strikingly beautiful.
“Loud much?” she huffed. “What could possibly be so funny at 7:30 in the morning?”
“Your face,” Phoebe quipped.
“Sorry, Olivia. We were just having a little fun.” I tried to apologize cordially and shot a warning look at Phoebe. Carmen chose that moment to let out a squeal of delight and launched another handful of ‘snow’ into the air.
“Who let the psycho out of the crazy house?” Olivia peered down her nose at Carmen.
Phoebe was on her feet in a flash, but I got to Olivia a split second before she did.
“Don’t,” I threatened Olivia in a low voice, holding Phoebe back.
“Get her a straight jacket or something. I need my beauty sleep,” Olivia shrugged innocently and flashed Phoebe a toothy smile. Even though she had been crucial to the success of our first trip to the Fortunate Isle, she always had a way of reminding me why I didn’t completely trust her.
“You need to get out of our suite,” Phoebe snapped at her from behind me.
Olivia sighed dramatically and rolled her dark brown eyes at Phoebe’s scowl. “Don’t start foaming at the mouth or anything. I was just leaving.” She twisted on her heel and disappeared, slamming the door behind her.
“You’ll be forced to surrender to the unrelenting affliction,” Carmen declared in an unnatural, devilish voice accompanied by unblinking eyes. Once I dispelled the shivers that danced down my spine, I had trouble figuring out if she was talking to us or herself.
“What’d you say, Carm?” Phoebe whirled around while Willow and I exchanged bewildered looks. Instead of responding, she clapped her hands against her ears and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Make them stop!” she howled in anguish, “Make them stop screaming!!”
Phoebe’s eyes grew wide and she fought to wrap her arms around the now writhing Carmen.
Willow and I ran to them in an attempt to ease Carmen’s panic, as well as Phoebe’s. A memory from Tartarus flashed in my mind. During our time in the Underworld, Carmen had been able to hear the screams of the damned souls that had somehow eluded me and Phoebe. They had been unbearable to her then, and were apparently still haunting her back in the land of the Living. Dread washed over me as another knock sounded on the door. My irritation flared as I flung the door open, expecting to see Olivia again. Instead, I met the soothing, blue eyes of Finn’s mom, Natasha. Her black hair was braided down her back, highlighting the black feathers dangling from her ears.
“Shall I?” she asked simply. I stepped out of her way and she glided over to where Carmen was crouching down in agony. She carefully peeled a now frantic Phoebe from Carmen’s body, and we observed while she pulled a small glass vial of smoky gray liquid from her bag. Natasha was somehow able to pour some of the liquid into Carmen’s mouth, as she lashed out again in the midst of her mental anguish.
“Carmen, dear,” Natasha cooed and somehow held onto her. “Listen to me.” She bent down and whispered in Carmen’s ear. Finally, her body relaxed and she surrendered to the safety of Natasha’s loving arms. Phoebe shifted toward them quietly but Natasha raised a hand in warning.
“She needs sleep.” She gingerly laid Carmen’s head down onto one of the unharmed pillows scattered around the floor, and Willow promptly covered her with a fleece blanket.
“Is she okay?” Phoebe chewed on her nails and paced back and forth anxiously; all the while watching the now unconscious Carmen.
“For now, yes,” Natasha declared wearily.
“How did you know…?” I asked her incredulously.
“It was purely happenstance,” she clarified. “I’ve come to deliver a message.”
“A message?” My mind automatically conjured every possible horrifying conclusion to Finn’s life. Her ominous tone was anything but comforting. “Is it Finn? Did they find him?”
“No, dear. I’m afraid not.” Her face fell at the mention of her son and I pushed back the adjacent disappointment that clutched my heart. “Come…sit down,” Natasha gestured toward the couch. I did as she instructed; followed by Willow. Phoebe knelt beside the sleeping Carmen and smoothed her hair. We all regarded Natasha expectantly.
“You’ve been summoned,” she instituted, as she slipped a light blue envelope out of her bag and handed it to me with a tight smile. I could tell Finn’s absence was taking its toll on her as well.
Dark circles hung below her eyes that had lost all of their usual fire.
“Summoned…” I repeated quietly. I flipped the envelope over in my hands, but its blank cover revealed nothing. I opened the flap as carefully as I could and unfolded the thick paper within.
A silver seal with several symbols that I couldn’t identify adorned the top of the paper. The message below had been handwritten and only consisted of three sentences: Anastasia, We request your presence on the island country of Cyprus. Your sisters await your arrival. Herete gia panta.