Goddess of Light (Goddess Summoning #3)(103)

"Peace..." Pamela repeated. She wasn't gasping for breath anymore and she didn't feel so afraid. Through the shock and the panic she could sense the edge of something that reminded her a little of Lina's voice. It was sweet and warm and comforting, like a late spring rain, or an afternoon nap, and it was in the air around her. A small breeze brushed against her spirit body, soothing her. It seemed to whisper her name like a mother welcoming a lost child into her arms.

"See what I mean?" Lina asked, studying her face.

Pamela drew a deep breath and looked down at her body again. This time her luminous skin didn't frighten her. Yes, it was still her - her arms and legs and the rest of her body. She lifted her hand again, studying it... recognizing the soul within the altered casing. The warm breeze brushed against her, caressing her with palpable acceptance and love.

"I think I'm starting to understand." Thinking, she ran her hand through her short hair, only vaguely noticing that it felt a little like passing her hand through a cool mist. She turned on the bench so that she was facing Lina. "I can believe that I can find peace here, but what about love?"

"You already know that answer, Pamela. Do you still love Apollo?"

"Of course," she said without hesitation.

Lina smiled. "That's because love is one of the few things we can actually take with us."

"But what about..." Pamela lifted her semitransparent hand again. "I'm not like I was before."

"No, you're not the same, but your spirit does have form and feelings. The rest is up to you and Apollo."

"Won't it be like loving a ghost for him?" Pamela said despondently.

Lina took her hand again. "I like to think of it more as loving the essence of a person."

"I'm dead." This time when she said it, her heart didn't shake, and she didn't feel like she needed to wake up from a nightmare. Random thoughts flitted through her mind - she worried about her brother and her parents and Vernelle - but her worry had a distant, otherworldly sense to it, as if she were remembering a sweet, reoccurring dream. It wasn't that she had forgotten them or stopped loving them. It was just that she already felt detached from the life she had known. She wondered if it was some kind of built-in defense mechanism of the soul, to keep her spirit from pining away for eternity for those left behind. Eternity... it was still incomprehensible.

"I'm dead, but I'm still me."

"Yes, honey, and you're going to be fine," Lina said. Then she looked up and smiled. "And here come our gods."

Hades and Apollo strode towards them through the flowered courtyard. The dark god had his hand on his friend's shoulder and was speaking earnestly to him as they walked. Apollo nodded in response, but when he saw Pamela, his attention turned completely to her as he hurried to where she and Lina sat. He stopped beside the bench.

"You look as bad as you did right after the snake bit you," Pamela said. "Your hand isn't still hurting you, is it?"

"No!" he said and almost laughed. "There is no injury left in my body." Apollo let his fingers lightly brush her cheek. "Are you yourself again, sweet Pamela?"

"Yes, I think I am. Somehow I'm different, but still me. Maybe more me than I have ever been," she said in a voice tinged with the wonder of it.

"And do you forgive me for stealing your soul and bringing it here?"

Pamela studied his handsome face. Lina had been right. She got to bring love with her, and a few other things - like faith and hope and forgiveness.

"All is well, Apollo. I forgive you," she said.

Silently, the God of Light fell to his knees, buried his head in her lap, and as she stroked his hair, Apollo wept.

On Mount Olympus Zeus listened to Artemis finish her story. The Huntress Goddess was spectacular in her anger, but she was also something else. She was passionate in her defense of the modern mortals. Intrigued, Zeus watched his daughter wipe tears from her beautiful face as she described the death of the mortal woman she claimed her brother loved. He could hardly believe the change in her. Artemis had never cared overly much for mortals. She wasn't cruel to them; she was simply aloof, cool, untouchable. They made sacrifices to the Huntress Goddess, petitioned for her aid, and Artemis even occasionally granted those requests as her whim struck her. But never in all the eons of her existence had Zeus known her to weep over a mortal. And she had spoken of the bard that had sheltered her and her twin with honest warmth. As if she truly cared for the mortal man. It was all fascinating.

"That poor, weak woman who was the instrument of Pamela's death was under the influence of Bacchus. I smelled his stench. It was as if she and the night had been bathed in it. The God of the Vine is culpable, and not simply for the death of an innocent. He manipulated all of the events that led to that sad night. And why?" The Huntress turned on Bacchus, who also stood in front of great Zeus where he sat on his raised throne. "For no other reason than spite and jealousy."

"For retribution!" Bacchus shrieked.

"Retribution?" Artemis cried. "How did Pamela deserve your punishment? She was kind and loyal. All she did was to love my brother and succor both of us when we were trapped in her world without our powers."

"The punishment wasn't for her. It was for you and your arrogant brother." Bacchus turned his wild, haunted eyes to Zeus. "Do you not see it? They thought they could take over my kingdom and never be touched for their trespass. They were not innocent visitors, they were usurpers!"