by Aimee Carter
I slipped out from between the gates and hesitated, not sure what to say. Wordlessly he stepped around to open my door for me, and I thanked him, but he said nothing. It wasn’t until we were driving down the gravel road that I finally found the courage to talk, and even then my voice came out as a squeak.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my hands clasped together so tightly that my knuckles were white. “For everything.”
“Don’t be.” He turned the corner and the hedge disappeared from view. “You did what you had to do, and so did Henry. So did the council. I knew it was a long shot anyway after I met you.”
I pressed my lips together, not knowing what to say. I was sure he’d meant it as a compliment, but it didn’t help the guilt that gnawed at me incessantly. “You’ll exist for a long time, right? I mean, the world isn’t going to end tomorrow.”
“I don’t know,” said James, and for a moment I heard a hint of the boy who liked to build things with fries. “With Calliope on the rampage, anything’s possible.”
Leaning back against my seat, I let myself relax. At least he was still in there somewhere. “Where are we going?”
“Someplace I think you should go before you leave for the summer,” he said. When it was clear he wasn’t going to give me any more details, I resigned myself to looking out the window and trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t hurt so much.
Henry had been telling the truth. What had once been Main Street in Eden was now a dirt road surrounded by trees on either side, and the spot where Eden High School had stood was nothing more than a meadow. Even though I’d only been there for a few weeks, I felt a pang as we drove by. There would be no going back, not to the life I’d known as a mortal, and it was a loss I hadn’t been prepared to deal with.
By the time we reached our destination, we’d found civilization once more. It wasn’t New York City, but it wasn’t all dirt and trees either. Several small buildings clustered together to form a town near the hospital where my mother had stayed. I looked around, trying to find something familiar, but there were only small factories and churches and grocery stores.
James drove past a pair of wrought-iron gates, and my eyes widened as I realized where we were. I could hear the gravel on the road crunch underneath the tires, and he wound the car down the path slowly, coming to a stop a quarter of a mile inside.
“Come on,” he said, opening the door. “I want to show you something.”
I stepped out and stared at the cemetery that surrounded us, the headstones and statues rising out of the brown grass. Some of them were newer, the names clear and readable, while others we passed were so old and worn that I could hardly make out any kind of engraving at all. James kept his distance, shoving his hands in his pockets as if he were afraid to touch me, and I trailed behind him, busying myself with avoiding the mud and the melting snow.
He stopped in front of a fresh grave, one that was so new that there was no tombstone. Just a temporary marker with a name written in black marker. James stepped aside so I could see it, but there was no need. I knew exactly where we were.
“Diana Winters,” I said softly, running my shaking fingers over the letters that formed her name. “But I thought she was—”
“Alive?” said James, and I nodded. “As a deity, yes. But she took a mortal form to raise you, and that mortal form died ten days ago.”
I was silent, wondering what he expected me to say to that.
“She’s still your mother,” he said, “but you need to understand that things won’t be the same between you now, and things won’t be the same between you and Henry or you and the rest of the council either.”
I bristled at that. “Just like things aren’t the same between you and me?” I said, but instead of showing any signs of anger or frustration, James shrugged.
“Somewhat different, given you’re closer to both of them, but yeah. Something like that.”
I crouched down next to the marker, running my fingers over it as I stared at the mound of dirt that held my mother’s human body. I wasn’t sure what to feel—sadness was unavoidable, but there was a jumble of other emotions I didn’t fully understand. Relief, maybe, that her battle had ended. Fear for this new reality I faced and the truths I’d learned while she’d been wasting away in a hospital bed.
But most of all I felt a hollow ache inside of me, and it took me several seconds to realize I missed the life we’d had before we’d come to Eden. Not the years of sickness and pain, but the trips to Central Park. The Christmas trees. The days when I knew my best friend was only a short walk down the hall. Those were over now, and a new existence stretched out before me, blank except for the faces of Henry, my mother, and the rest of the council.
“I know it’s the end,” I said, placing a hand on the raised dirt. “I’ve known that for a long time.”
“No, it’s not,” said James, moving to stand beside me. “It’s the beginning.”
We stayed there until the cold seeped into my clothes and the fog clung to my hair, leaving me chilled and damp. I accepted his hand as he helped me up, and I touched the marker one last time, proof of my humanity and my brief existence in a world where all things died. At last, with a heavy heart, I tore myself away.
“So what are you going to do during the summer?” said James as we walked to the car. Even though it was an obvious attempt to lighten the mood, it took me several moments to reply, my mind too clouded with thoughts of my mother. I felt anchored to her grave, but with each step I took, the weight became a little easier to bear. It would never go away completely, I knew that, but at least I was sure that one day I would be able to accept it.
“I don’t know,” I said, and I stared at the muddy ground as I entertained the possibilities laid out before me. I could go back to New York City, but there was nothing for me there. I could stay in Eden with the trees, but I figured that would get boring after the first month or so. “Maybe try some authentic Greek food. I’ve never been to Greece, y’know.”
“Greece,” said James, and there was emptiness in his voice that ate at me. “It’s nice in the summer.”
Tentatively I reached out to slip my arm into his, and he didn’t move away. “Do you want to come?”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
“Of course.” I grinned with effort, but that didn’t make it any less real. “I don’t want to go to Greece on my own, and I can’t imagine a better tour guide than one of my best friends.”
Slowly a smile spread across his face, but there was a hint of distance in his eyes I couldn’t completely ignore. “I’d really like that.”
The gravel crunched underneath our feet as we reached the car, and he opened the door for me, the silence between us now comfortable instead of tense and ugly. I sat down and relaxed against the seat as he slid behind the wheel. There was a lingering doubt in the back of my mind as I smiled at him and saw that look in his eyes again, but I pushed it away. Things weren’t anywhere near perfect, but no matter what happened, at least I had my friend back.
As we drove away, I twisted around to see my mother’s grave, dark against the remaining piles of white snow. James was right; this wasn’t an ending. It was the beginning my mother had wanted for me and the beginning I’d wanted for myself all along. I may not have planned on living forever, but now that I was, I was going to make the most of every moment.
GUIDE OF GODS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
In one way or another, everyone who has ever been a significant part of my life has helped me down this path, and I’m grateful for everything. I’d like to acknowledge the following people in particular:
Rosemary Stimola, my lovely agent who never gives up. Thank you for taking a chance on me.
Mary-Theresa Hussey, my amazing editor, and Natashya Wilson, Senior Editor at Harlequin Teen. You’ve both been wonderfully supportive, and I’m so excited to continue this journey with you.
The many teachers I’ve had over the years, especially Terry
Brooks, Jim Burnstein, Kathy Churchill, Larry Francis, Wendy Gortney, Kim Henson, Chris Keane, Bob Mayer, Mike Sack and John Saul. By teaching me how to tell a story, you showed me who I am.
Shannon and John Tullius. Your tireless support gave me hope that maybe I wasn’t as terrible as I thought I was.
Sarah Reck and Caitlin Straw, the two best friends and first readers I could ever ask for.
Melissa Anelli, the world’s greatest cheerleader.
And Jo, who changed my life just by living hers.
Thank you all so much for everything.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0169-9
THE GODDESS TEST
Copyright © 2011 by Aimée Carter
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