She Walks in Shadows(73)

Goddesses don’t love their children, another voice said in her head. They only protect them from death.

I’m not a goddess, Circe told the voice that she knew belonged to whatever controlled her fingers.

You are now. You could be, if you wanted. You could have men like Toby fawning over you all the time. You could have servants carry you from house to house.

And then what? I’d start destroying everyone that crossed me, until they fought back and destroyed me, and what would I do? Circe reasoned. She stopped singing to think. You came from an asteroid.

You can’t fight me forever. One day, I’ll take over. One day, they’ll writhe.

“Not on my watch,” Circe said aloud. She aimed her fingers at the mirror. This one was larger than the small one she had used that night she had gotten angry; it would certainly kill her.

You’re bluffing.

“And if I’m not?”

Silence.

“Thank you,” Circe said. “One day, maybe I’ll let you go to a stronger body. But do nothing with mine, okay?”

More silence.

She took a deep breath and resumed her practice. The lyrics echoed against the walls.





SHUB-NIGGURATH’S WITNESSES

Valerie Valdes

SISTER HONORIA AND I walked into the cul de sac, our skirts sweeping the asphalt, the clopping of our feet like castanets. I had a good feeling that today, my sisters and I would bring the Word to receptive ears. I fanned myself with one hand while the other held my black umbrella to shade me from the morning sun.

There were enough of us that each pair could approach a separate house at the same time. Ours had a dirty white automobile in front, and a bougainvillea that was all dry thorns. I saw a crack in the blinds, a pair of fingers. We stepped onto the porch and Sister Honoria rang the bell.

At first, there was no answer. People often pretended not to hear us, or that they were not home. A shadow fell over the peephole, so I knew we were being watched. We waited.

The door opened, revealing a young woman wearing a pinstripe suit and a nametag that read, “YOURLADIES BENITEZ” in block print. “Sorry, se?oras,” she said with a fake smile. “I’m leaving for work.”

I smiled back at her. “We understand. But surely, you can spare a moment for the Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young?”

“I don’t have ....” Her dark-red lip curled. “The what?”

“Shub-Niggurath, the Black ” I was politely interrupted by Sister Honoria’s cough. I had gone off-script in my enthusiasm. “Are there mysteries in your life that do not have satisfying answers?”

“Well, I mean —”

I held up a pamphlet, the cover of which showed a young woman very like Yourladies, her chin cupped pensively in her hand, question marks floating around her head. Underneath were bulleted questions, which I gestured to as I spoke.

“Have you ever felt that no benevolent god watches over you?”

Her brown eyes narrowed. “Sometimes.”

“Do you feel your life is insignificant? That you are a tiny ant in a vast, uncaring universe?”

“I don’t know, like, maybe.”

“Do you feel you have no real control and could be wiped out at any time by unknown forces more powerful than you can comprehend?”

She fidgeted and looked over my shoulder, likely at my other sisters. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“Then you will be happy to know there are answers to your questions, if you dare to look.” I flipped open the pamphlet. “The Magna Mater grants her worshipers the knowledge and power to ensure the propagation of her seed across the cosmos. Her children are the chapters of her ongoing revelation.”

Her gaze shifted to the paper I held, its signs and sigils squirming from the attention. “Is this a joke? Are there, like, cameras or something?”

“Not at all.” I offered her the pamphlet. “Read this at your leisure. There is a website on the back.”

“Pero, like, what’s the point?”

Sister Honoria chuckled, the sound coming up from deep in her chest like a cough. “There is no point to anything. No point at all.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but I wasn’t going to contradict her.

“Okay, sorry, but I really have to go.” The woman snatched the pamphlet and closed the door.

Sister Honoria and I walked back out to the street to join the others. Some were already returning to the forest behind the neighborhood’s flimsy wooden fence, with or without victims for the blood sacrifice trailing behind them. Sister Lydia appeared to have eaten another dog, but there was no telling with her. It might have been a cat, or a man.

“Sister,” I said. “Why did you not tell her that Shub-Niggurath grants immortality to her chosen?”

The gentle clopping of her hooves stopped and I turned to look back at her. She watched as the woman climbed into her car and drove away, narrowly avoiding a pair of us in her haste.

“Because,” she said, “the wife of the Not-to-Be-Named-One owes us nothing. We exist to serve her and her children.”

“I?! Shub-Niggurath!” I said.

Sister Honoria resumed her walk, scratching her horns absently. “Besides, not everyone survives the ritual to become a gof’nn hupadgh. Being regurgitated is very uncomfortable.”