I’m dead!”
“Oh dear.” The woman passed a hanky to Rose. “No, don’t cry, sweetie. Here, I’ll fix it for you.” She leaned forward and pressed her thumb to Rose’s forehead.
Immediately, a strange, cooling sensation swept over Rose’s forehead. Her anxiety and grief dissipated and she looked at her fairy godmother in surprise, wiping her eyes. She felt… better.
That was odd. “What did you do?”
“I just did a tiny fast-forward. You spent nine years in the coma so I fast-forwarded your grief nine years. Can’t really have you weeping all over the place while I’m trying to get you your fairy tale, can we?”
She did feel better—the ache of loss was there, but it was no longer crippling. Her fairy godmother still wasn’t making sense. “Huh? Fairy tale?”
“You’re Persephone. The Greek-myth one. It’s not exactly a fairy tale, but close enough if you ask me.” She opened the book at her side and began to flip through it. “Actually, we could probably find a fairy tale or two similar enough to give you some guidelines—”
Rose put a hand over the book, stopping Muffin’s idle flipping of pages. “I’m sorry, you said I was who again?”
The fairy godmother glanced up. “Eh? Persephone. Goddess of Spring. Daughter of
Demeter.” She snapped the book shut, pinching Rose’s fingers. “What did I tell you about paying attention?”
Rose flinched and put her fingertips to her mouth, wincing at the sting. “Sorry. I’m just having a bit of trouble stringing things together. You said I’m a goddess…? How is that possible?”
“You’re a goddess on this plane. There are lots of realities, my dear. Yours doesn’t have gods. This one does. And I could switch you out with Persephone because, unlike most of the gods here, she’s half-human.”
“Where… where did the old Persephone go?”
“She wanted to go to college. Harvard or Yale or something.” Muffin shrugged. “Who am I to stand in the way of academics? Anyhow, we needed a replacement and like I said, you had spent the last nine years in a coma before eventually kicking the bucket. I thought you might be interested in giving it a shot.”
Rose’s hand crept to her throat as if she could somehow stop the knot that had formed there.
“I can’t believe I’m dead.”
Muffin smiled brightly. “Not anymore. And now that you’re here, I need you to do one teeny favor for me.” She pinched her thumb and forefinger together. “Teeny tiny favor. Promise.”
“What do I have to do?”
“I need a rare flower from the underworld. It’s for a spell.”
Rose glanced around the flowering meadow. The skies overhead were blue as the ocean and birds sang in the distance. It was lovely and serene and pastoral… and definitely not anywhere close to the underworld. “If I’m the goddess of spring, how am I supposed to get you a flower from the underworld?”
She patted Rose’s hand. “I can’t tell you everything, now can I? You’ll have to figure out that part on your own.”
Rose nodded and tucked a strand of red-gold hair behind her shoulder. She glanced down…
and gasped at her clothing. The toga-like dress she was wearing only covered one breast. Good lord. Cupping her breast to cover it, Rose glared at her fairy godmother. “Where are the rest of my clothes?”
“That’s how everyone wears their chitons here, girlfriend. Let it all hang out.”
She clutched her boob tighter. “No way.”
“Suit yourself. I don’t care what you do as long as you get me that flower.” Muffin pulled out the book again and began to flip through it one more time. “I could have sworn that I saw something about springtime goddesses in here…”
“What happens if I don’t get you the flower?”
“Well, you can’t stay, honey.”
“And if I get you the flower, I get to stay here and be a… goddess?” It seemed like a one-sided deal. “Like, with goddess powers and immortality? Are you kidding
“Oh dear.” The woman passed a hanky to Rose. “No, don’t cry, sweetie. Here, I’ll fix it for you.” She leaned forward and pressed her thumb to Rose’s forehead.
Immediately, a strange, cooling sensation swept over Rose’s forehead. Her anxiety and grief dissipated and she looked at her fairy godmother in surprise, wiping her eyes. She felt… better.
That was odd. “What did you do?”
“I just did a tiny fast-forward. You spent nine years in the coma so I fast-forwarded your grief nine years. Can’t really have you weeping all over the place while I’m trying to get you your fairy tale, can we?”
She did feel better—the ache of loss was there, but it was no longer crippling. Her fairy godmother still wasn’t making sense. “Huh? Fairy tale?”
“You’re Persephone. The Greek-myth one. It’s not exactly a fairy tale, but close enough if you ask me.” She opened the book at her side and began to flip through it. “Actually, we could probably find a fairy tale or two similar enough to give you some guidelines—”
Rose put a hand over the book, stopping Muffin’s idle flipping of pages. “I’m sorry, you said I was who again?”
The fairy godmother glanced up. “Eh? Persephone. Goddess of Spring. Daughter of
Demeter.” She snapped the book shut, pinching Rose’s fingers. “What did I tell you about paying attention?”
Rose flinched and put her fingertips to her mouth, wincing at the sting. “Sorry. I’m just having a bit of trouble stringing things together. You said I’m a goddess…? How is that possible?”
“You’re a goddess on this plane. There are lots of realities, my dear. Yours doesn’t have gods. This one does. And I could switch you out with Persephone because, unlike most of the gods here, she’s half-human.”
“Where… where did the old Persephone go?”
“She wanted to go to college. Harvard or Yale or something.” Muffin shrugged. “Who am I to stand in the way of academics? Anyhow, we needed a replacement and like I said, you had spent the last nine years in a coma before eventually kicking the bucket. I thought you might be interested in giving it a shot.”
Rose’s hand crept to her throat as if she could somehow stop the knot that had formed there.
“I can’t believe I’m dead.”
Muffin smiled brightly. “Not anymore. And now that you’re here, I need you to do one teeny favor for me.” She pinched her thumb and forefinger together. “Teeny tiny favor. Promise.”
“What do I have to do?”
“I need a rare flower from the underworld. It’s for a spell.”
Rose glanced around the flowering meadow. The skies overhead were blue as the ocean and birds sang in the distance. It was lovely and serene and pastoral… and definitely not anywhere close to the underworld. “If I’m the goddess of spring, how am I supposed to get you a flower from the underworld?”
She patted Rose’s hand. “I can’t tell you everything, now can I? You’ll have to figure out that part on your own.”
Rose nodded and tucked a strand of red-gold hair behind her shoulder. She glanced down…
and gasped at her clothing. The toga-like dress she was wearing only covered one breast. Good lord. Cupping her breast to cover it, Rose glared at her fairy godmother. “Where are the rest of my clothes?”
“That’s how everyone wears their chitons here, girlfriend. Let it all hang out.”
She clutched her boob tighter. “No way.”
“Suit yourself. I don’t care what you do as long as you get me that flower.” Muffin pulled out the book again and began to flip through it one more time. “I could have sworn that I saw something about springtime goddesses in here…”
“What happens if I don’t get you the flower?”
“Well, you can’t stay, honey.”
“And if I get you the flower, I get to stay here and be a… goddess?” It seemed like a one-sided deal. “Like, with goddess powers and immortality? Are you kidding
Similar Books
