Chapter 1

“Hello? Oh, oh dear. Please wake up. I know my memory editing skills are rusty, but surely you’re intact. Hello?”

The soft, concerned words floated from down a long hallway, from across a chasm, a world over, or somewhere even farther. They bounced around in the recesses of her mind, and Zoey stirred.

Or tried to.

“Oh,” the soft exclamation of surprise came. “That’s it, you’ll be fine.” A series of gentle pats on her cheek, which Zoey only half felt. “Come on, now. What’s a little magical brain surgery, and dimensional travel? You’re a tough cookie. Why do you think I chose you?”

Zoey’s head lolled to the side, managing some miniscule form of movement, but still unable to open her eyes. She struggled from the fugue like a woman clawing from a pit of tar. The haze clung to her in sticky black strands, yanking her down as she tried desperately to pull herself to consciousness.

Several more pats on her cheek, sharper this time. Enough to leave a sting. “Up and at ‘em. We’ve things to discuss, sweetheart, and I’m a busy goddess.”

The words, and her stinging cheek, acted as the catalyst she needed. Zoey groaned, and her eyes fluttered open.

She stared into the warm, smiling face of an angel.

“There you are,” the achingly beautiful woman said, relief plain on her face. “Had me worried for a second, if I’m being honest.”

Even if Zoey hadn’t woken from what felt like a hundred-year nap, she wouldn’t have managed a more eloquent response than what stumbled out of her mouth.

“What?”

Enormous, white-feathered wings folded behind the woman’s back, as if her form, and dress, hadn’t been ethereal enough. Her inhumanity laid in plain sight, and Zoey meant that in the most flattering way possible. Humans had flaws. The creature in front of her did not. A flowing dress of diaphanous fabric draped from her shoulders and hips, so thin the woman might as well have been naked. Zoey could see everything. She might’ve blushed if not for how she stared dumbly, her brain failing to understand, even in part, what she was seeing.

“I realize you’re disoriented,” the woman said, “but that’s to be expected, so please don’t worry. Mortals aren’t built for interdimensional travel. I lent you some of my essence ... but mortals aren’t meant for that, either.” A laugh, light and airy, which stole Zoey’s breath, as everything about the woman did. “Trading big problems for smaller ones. What’s the life of the divine, if not that?”

“What?” Zoey repeated. She didn’t stutter this time, at least, though she would have preferred to come off marginally more composed. She tried again. “Where am I? Who are you?” Zoey looked around, tearing her gaze from the heavenly being in front of her, an action that burned an inexplicable instinct inside her, like she’d performed a great blasphemy for doing so.

It took a second to place where she was: somewhere she hadn’t been in forever. By the nostalgic plastic red chairs and single-unit wooden desks with cubbies underneath, she’d ended up at Riverwood Elementary. Miss Paulson’s 3rd grade science class, to be specific, identified by the back wall, where a diagram of the solar system expanded outward, each planet neatly labeled and sloppily drawn by her classmates. Zoey had been the one responsible for Mars. Being generous to herself, it was only mildly worse than the rest.

“The name I was given,” the woman said, surprising Zoey, who had been briefly startled from where she’d woken at, “is Ephythithys. But Ephy is fine, since I realize the former’s a mouthful.” She smiled. “For your first question ... I’m not sure. This place came from your memories.” She tapped a slim finger against her lips, looking around the room. “Somewhere important to you, I assume.”

“It’s ... Miss Paulson was my favorite teacher, growing up. And I liked science class...” she trailed off, then shook her head. “Why am I here? What’s going on?” She tried to stand from Miss Paulson’s office chair, but she staggered in place, head swimming, then collapsed backward. She skidded a foot or so from the momentum, wheels squeaking loudly in the eerily silent classroom.

Ephy tutted at her. “I’ll explain, but don’t push yourself. You’re still weak from the trip.” Her hips swayed in an entrancing rhythm as she closed the gap.

Zoey took note, again, of how little her dress obscured her body.

Ephy ran a hand through Zoey’s hair, electrifying where her fingers traced. Zoey’s breath caught.

“But you’re here,” Ephy said, “because I have need of you.”

Zoey’s eyes flicked to Ephy’s practically naked chest, then lower, to her crotch, the blonde hair shaved in a cute heart, and finally back up. Zoey flushed, and Ephy laughed.

“Not in that way, though maybe if we had more time.” She tapped Zoey’s nose in a playfully scolding way. “Important matters first. Settle down.”

Every passing moment only confused Zoey further. Who this beautiful, inhuman woman was, why Zoey was here, and why she’d woken in her third grade science classroom. She racked her brain for how she’d ended up in this situation, and came up with little.

Too little. Her brow furrowed. She couldn’t remember anything.

Ephy sat in Zoey’s lap, then took her face in both hands. “Stay with me, darling. I’ll return your memories in time. I just didn’t want you to be distracted.”

Having the most gorgeous woman Zoey had ever seen seated across her lap, with a clear view of both her bare chest and crotch, weren’t circumstances that could be considered ‘distraction-free’. “Making that difficult,” she choked out. Even the bizarre claim that she’d ‘taken Zoey’s memories away’ had difficulty piercing that much more primitive interest.

Ephy laughed, then moved her hands from her cheeks upward, curling her fingers into Zoey’s short black hair. “As the goddess of sensuality, I’m afraid I can’t help myself. But you really ought to focus. What I have to say is,” her lips quirked, “rather relevant.”

Zoey could tell an understatement when she heard one.

“You need my help,” Zoey said. Attempting to puzzle anything out until she’d heard Ephy’s piece would, at a guess, be an exercise in futility. She forced herself to focus, to ignore Ephy’s warm weight pressing down on her lap, and the scalding proximity of their bodies.

Was the sitting-on-her-lap necessary?

Not that Zoey’s less evolved brain was complaining. Just, what was she supposed to do with her hands? Zoey assumed the touching was a one-way thing.

“I needed a champion,” Ephy said with a nod.

“For?” She ignored the absurdity of the statement; when faced with the already insane surroundings and circumstances she was in, the words digested easier than they should have.

“To save the world.”

A long pause.

“I’m sorry?”

“Not yours, I’m afraid.” Her lips quirked. “Or, pleased to reassure you? But one in the cluster I hold dominion.”

“Save the world,” Zoey repeated.

“And ascend while doing so,” Ephy said with a serious nod. “Though those are tall orders, each, and the second more than the first. But I have faith.”

Right.

“Why can’t I remember anything?” Zoey set aside the insanity of what was coming out of the supposed-goddess’s mouth.

“I made some adjustments,” Ephy said easily. “Like I said, it’s better if you’re distraction-free. Your past life doesn’t matter for the foreseeable future. Should you succeed, they’ll be returned. You have my word.”

‘Adjustments’. As if she’d gone in and scooped out Zoey’s brain.

Was she dreaming? Logic said yes, but everything was too painfully, crystally clear.

Zoey shook her head. “Okay. Okay. Start from the beginning. We’re getting nowhere.” Despite her claims of violating the sanctity of her mind, Ephy didn’t seem like her enemy.

Ephy sighed. “It’ll go in circles. Your doubt and confusion is reasonable, but also irrelevant. Let’s move to practical matters.”

“But I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I’ve explained enough,” Ephy said, shrugging. “You need to come to terms with it, but that won’t happen until you have time to rest. But no matter. We need to get to why you’re here, speaking with me. I have business to attend to. So. Character creation.”

Even for all of the strangeness occurring in quick succession, the incongruent words ‘character creation’ made Zoey pause.

“I’m sorry. Like a videogame?”

Ephy paused, off-foot for the first time. “I almost forgot. You’re from his plane.” She said it more to herself than to Zoey. “Yes, like a ‘videogame’.” The words stumbled from her mouth, like they meant nothing to her, specifically, but rather, a second-hand account, something she’d heard of but never gained an understanding of.

Zoey’s headache deepened. How did she manage to become more and more confused, when she’d started off as baffled?

“So,” Ephy said. “That’s good. I don’t need to explain the concept. Are you ready?”

“No?”

“Perfect. Let’s start.” Ephy climbed off Zoey’s lap, and Zoey missed the heat and press of her body immediately, and the gentle, coaxing way she’d been playing with her hair.

She considered trying to stand again, but didn’t think she’d have much success. Her head still swam from earlier, and she felt faint.

“First, let’s establish some important information.”

That’d be a first.

“As the goddess of sensuality and eroticism, the benefits I can afford you will take some ... getting used to. But you’ll put them to good use, I trust. I picked you because you’re a pervert.”

“What?” Where the hell had that come from? “No, I’m not. I’m—” She was what? “Normal?”

Ephy didn’t acknowledge what she’d said, which was mildly irritating. She couldn’t level an accusation like that then say nothing about it. “Let’s start with your body. Do you have a preference, or can I choose?”