Page 39 of Persephone's Curse
“Then you have to leave, Henry. You know it’s the right thing to do.”
“I don’t… I can’t…”
His eyes were wet, like, if he could, he might start to cry—shiny, iridescent, sparkling tears. Ghost tears. I took a step closer to him, felt the temperature shift just the slightest amount, just a few degrees colder.
This was the moment. I could feel it. I could go through with it. I could convince Henry to leave. I was so close already. All it would take was just one final, crushing blow. The words were ready, on the tip of my tongue; my mouthburnedwith them. They held a power I didn’t understand. It flowed through my body, a gentle pulse, my skinthrummed. I knew once I said them, I could never take them back.
I couldn’t make Evelyn stop.
But I could makehimstop.
I could makethisstop.
“None of us want you here anymore,” I said, not shouting nowbut almost whispering, my voice cold and horrible and not mine at all. “Can’t you see that? We don’t want you here. GO AWAY, Henry.”
He didn’t say anything.
We looked at each other and I felt—
It was stupid, maybe. Because he hadn’t had one in so long.
But I swear I could feel his heart stopping. Or breaking. Or shattering into a thousand pieces. I just swore I feltsomething.
And there was this look on his face, a look of confusion and pain and…
He cocked his head like he was listening to something I couldn’t hear.
He said, in the quietest voice possible, “Oh.”
And then he disappeared.
IV
Just as Persephone had the power to usher in the spring, to breathe new life into roots still and dormant, so might her descendants have powers of their own. The power to paint, perhaps. The power to make beautiful music. The power to see ghosts. The power to command them, the power to banish them…
That night I didn’t sleep. I lay in my bed for endless hours, hearing phantom knocks above me; when I closed my eyes I saw Evelyn banging on the closet door, her knuckles split open, blood running down her arms, dripping onto her socks, the carpet. Evelyn always wore wool socks. Her feet were always cold. What had I done. What had I done. What had I done to her.
I dragged myself into the shower at five in the morning, leaving the water on cold, feeling absolutely nothing even as goose bumps rose up on my arms, covering every inch of my skin, making me itchy.
What had I done. What had Idone.
What had I done to Henry.
I had meant to get him to leave, to send him away, but something had happened that I hadn’t anticipated; my words weren’t just words, they were acommand,something Henry wouldn’t have been able to disobey.
Did I have control over him? Overthem? Over all of the ghosts?
Did I have power?
Because that’s what it had felt like.
I had said those words—go away—and he had vanished. He had blinked out of existence.
I had banished him.
Had I banished him?
I was in the kitchen by five forty-five, my hair wet and dripping, my lips numb, why were my lips numb?
