Work Text:
Today’s the day. Today’s the day the girl the girl, the one from the store, paid for your cat food very kind, pretty eyes, focus now, her name? Rid-Riddle-Riddy-Eurydice. That’s it. Today’s the day Eurydice crawls out of death and a dumpster into the land of the living. You need to be here. To explain. Riddle-Riddy-Eurydice needs to know things. About her role. She’s saving the world. Or at least changing it. She will listen hear understand this time you hope but probably not. No one ever does. You doubt the curse washes off with death.
You need to be here? There. Not here. Here you wake up on the sofa bed in your mother’s sparse apartment where you sleep when you remember to because you don’t live on your own you can’t be trusted not to wander off you always wander off and you need to be watched but not so closely anymore not like back in Troy back home there is a certain freedom in being unimportant a mad princess is a disgrace a madwoman on the street just is.
But the dumpster the dead girl crawls out of is a long way off you need a ride you won’t get one but you’re still going to try. You always fail and you always try. Would be easier not to you know. You do know. But you still try. Someone should. Someone has to. That someone is you.
***
Mama and Andi are in the kitchen whispering at each other. You hear the words president and dead and Ariadne and palace.
I’m going to the Cave you say. Mama looks at you soft eyes soft pity. Andi looks at you part pity part exasperation part contempt. She is dressed nice. Queen nice. You are still in your dirty leather jacket hair uncombed and wild. She is going to the palace. Cogs in a machine the all of you.
You can’t bring Nax back Mama says oh so soft and gentle. As if you don’t know. You want to tell them about Eurydice need to really.
There’s a dead girl in the dumpster you say instead and Andi sighs and bites her lip and says we don’t have time for this and cass go find something to do and you stare at her and see her when you were children together and you see her on her wedding day and you see her bloodied face as the city falls and you see her dying and you see her dead and you turn and walk out the door.
***
70 miles. How long does it take to walk 70 miles and you must ask this out loud because the man on the bus, he’s holding a dead cat and a half empty bottle, shirt bloody, eyes full of unshed tears, you would think–but he doesn’t have the smell of the gods on him, this man the dead cat man says about three days and you spit and curse because you’ll be late and the bus driver shouts at you and you ignore him and the cat man asks to what.
There’s a dead girl in a dumpster and he stares at you a long time before fishing in his pockets and handing you his keys.
Can’t remember where it’s parked he says Usually it just comes when I call and you do know then who and what you’re talking to now and gods are not to be trusted this you very well know but they can be used sometimes god knows they’ve used you. So you take the keys.
I can find it you say but can’t finish because the bus driver has noticed the dead cat and threatens to call the cops and so you and the maybe a god are left standing on the side of the road. He is staring at the ground and you are staring at him. You fish in your own pocket and find a dime. You hold it out to him.
For your cat you say and it’s stupid and you know it’s stupid cats don’t need passage and it’s a coin not a Coin but he still looks stricken and shocked and takes the coin and presses it into his hand and his hand to his heart.
Can you he starts but you answer
No because you have never learned your lesson not once not ever and what more can they do to you really but he just says
Alright and swallows hard and keeps blinking those tears back into his eyes. Good luck he starts to say but you are already walking away.
***
City turns to desert as you drive the car you found in a pawn shop parking lot about to be towed showed up with the keys and drove off no questions asked too easy you think but perhaps simple human laziness. You can drive, Hector taught you when you were still mad but more lucid, when Troy stood and Andi still could stand to be around you and for a moment Hector is beside you face mangled like the day you found his body but voice still kind and patient. This one you know is imagination, Hector is dead and double dead, along with Nax and all the others. Except Riddy. You are almost sure that’s the right one now. Live girl is Ari, dead boy is Caeneus-Kaos, dead girl is Riddy.
A motorcycle engine revs. Startles dream-Hector away. A fury waves to you and speeds off with her sisters. They are not after you. They just think it's funny, to remind you how you’ll die. Or maybe they just like that you can see them with no danger. You don’t give them the satisfaction of a response either way.
***
The car breaks down a few miles from your destination. Funny, it didn’t occur to you a god’s car would still need gas. Too many things in your head for the important stuff, Hector always said. You leave the car. You start walking.
***
She’s there in the middle of the road pretty hair in pigtails pretty eyes somehow sadder than the day in the store. You introduce yourself tell her she’s a prophet tell her she must help free the living. She believes you but you’re not sure she understands. She will. Eventually. She has to.
You walk back to the car together and she tells you about her living boy and her dead boy and says something that you have never heard. Not once. Not your whole life.
You were right. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you . She says, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. You blink at her. They’re harvesting souls . She explains You tried to tell me . And oh you did didn’t you? You tell lots of people. Because you need to. But it never takes.
You believe me now you say, or ask, or one of those. Riddy is quiet a long minute.
I don’t know . She says. Honest. At least she’s honest. I don’t know if I believe anything anymore. But I’ll listen. And you smile. Because that’s something. Something new. The order wanes indeed.
***
Riddy is clever, and knows how to navigate the every day better than a mad ex princess ever could, so she finds a phone in the maybe god’s car and calls a travel service to come bring you gas. Her account still exists, hasn’t been dead that long she jokes. The words taste bitter, but you smile to comfort her.
Back on the road she starts crying. Where do I go she asks over, and over, and over. So you take her hand. It’s soft and warm and you hold it while you tell her to come home with you. She hugs you and she smells like seawater and grief. You indulge yourself. Lean into her, a little. Let yourself pretend you are the kind of woman who has friends that embrace you. That people aren’t scared to touch you. Scared the madness could spread. Scared you might bite.
Come home with me you say because you have to take her somewhere. It’s not time for the palace not yet. The myths leave out the down time you say and Riddy laughs through her tears like you told a joke. You let her think that because any explanation will come out garbled signal. And it's nice to see her smile besides.
***
Going home was a mistake. Mama fusses over you. Seems you been gone longer than you thought. Three days. Like if you walked there. You want to curse the god from the bus but might not be his fault this time. The order wanes.
When you didn’t come home I– she says but won’t speak it. You’re the last child of Troy. She’d break if you died. Andi is the daughter you failed to be but she’s marriage not blood. No one says it but you all know it.
Hecuba, I’m sure the new president can help us. Maybe it’s time— Andi says and you know how that ends shoved away in a little cell for all the madwomen of Troy who broke when the city burned. Or maybe not. Ari wants to defy the gods. Andi wants to use that desire. Cogs in a machine. The fates aren’t as cruel as the gods but they use us still. Maybe she’d find a nice hospital. By the sea. But you have work to do.
I was meeting a friend. You say gesture to Riddy hope she doesn’t take offense at the familiarity.
Riddy explains. The prophet stuff. Being dead. Coming back. The prophecy. The frame, the souls, all of it. You stare at a cockroach crawl across the wall. It wiggles its antenna at you before it crawls out the window. Riddy is a prophet but she is not cursed. You hope. You hope.
But Mama’s face goes soft and sad. Is that what she told you ? She says. I’m sorry miss, you see my daughter’s been unwell a very long time—
And the words bubble up and crawl out of your throat like they have their own legs and antenna I was fourteen you say Apollo wanted to fuck me. I fought back .
Andi makes a pained noise and she stands and she was there that day if she could just remember remember remember—-but something like recognition dawns in Riddy’s eyes. God of prophecy she says.
You nod because she understands. Finally somebody understands. Among other things you say because the yes won’t form on your lips but you think it’s enough or at least enough for Riddy.
And I was dead Riddy continues and you try so very hard to listen and ignore the future screaming in your ear and now I’m not. She didn’t convince me of that. It happened.
Riddy and Ari free the living. You say, pulling a thread off your mother’s couch. Andi looks at your hand like she wants to slap it away. You pull more. Caeneus frees the dead .
Riddy recites the prophecy. You don’t listen. You don’t need to hear it again. The thread has left a little hole in the fabric. You stick your finger in it. Andi pales. I need to make a call. She says.
You look at Riddy. You’ll need palace clothes . You say. I have fine things I don’t wear . And before Riddy can ask for clarification you can’t give her Andi returns and says The president wants to see you. Soon as possible .
Not yet . You say. And Riddy tilts her head so you say She gets sworn in next week and Andi sighs but Riddy smiles and urges you up.
Not her . Andi says and it stings, it has stung every time since the first time, even when you see it coming.
You wave Riddy on you’re needed. you tell her go change the world and it’s funny but you did try to say save. Riddy plucks a blanket off the arm of the couch and wraps it around your shoulders.
I’ll be back . She says. I need you . You hope that’s true. But you won’t hold it to her if you never see her again. Get some rest. She says.
I’ll be here you say and in my dreams. Riddy laughs again and hugs you, and that saltwater and grief scent wafts out the door. Three lost days of exhaustion catch up with you then and your eyes drift shut. You hope for good dreams. You don’t expect them. Riddy is safe for the following 24 hours. That is something. That is enough. For now, it is all enough.