ã€ŠStagmotherã€‹


 Chapter One

    Anyone sensitive to such things would have noticed the change long ago. They also would have been encouraged, manipulated, goaded, frightened, guilted, and otherwise led to filter that observation through several fine layers of optimism. Thus the low simmering fury of the goddess touching every leaf, wing, paw, and hoof went unnoticed by human hands.

    When sunlight mingled with the goddess¡¯s wrath, people bathed in it, giving thanks for heat. When thunder leant her pain its voice, they marveled at its awesome beauty. When her cries drove gales over the land, they flew kites, held pinwheels, and listened wistfully to wind chimes.

    ***

    Marilyn held her charm in cupped hands, hoping to obscure its glow from her fellow commuters on the 845 bus to Juneberry Square. She would have been cheered to know that none of the other passengers had noticed it. They had, of course, noticed her, and each did their best to reframe their instinctual discomfort into something positive. One woman in the front felt relief that she hasn''t sat next to her. The driver hoped that she would improve herself. A man in the middle of the bus chose to feel gratitude for his own good health.

    The charm cast an image of a round little cartoon woman wearing healers¡¯ colors and smiling serenely at her. ¡°Good morning,¡± the healer said. ¡°And it is good, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Marilyn kept her eyes well trained on the woman. The charm wouldn¡¯t work if she didn¡¯t watch.

    ¡°Sometimes, it can be hard to remember or to recognize the good in the world,¡± the woman went on. She walked across a background of bright shifting colors, her hands folded, tone earnest. ¡°When that happens, we can find ourselves thinking all kinds of thoughts. It¡¯s important to understand that nobody wants to think negative thoughts.¡± Here, she came to a stop and fixed her grotesquely large silver eyes where Marilyn was meant to meet them. She did so dutifully. If the charm didn¡¯t work, didn¡¯t change the briolette cut glass from a dull gray to a bright yellow, the healers wouldn¡¯t keep her appointment.

    ¡°But we think negatively all the time. Why is that? First, let¡¯s take a minute to look at how these thoughts impact us.¡±

    It was a new video, at least. Some of the organizations that required such viewing had their own, but most reused the educational short films put out by the state thirty-some years ago. Marilyn knew those by heart.

    ¡°Children of the Stagmother come into this world with no antlers.¡± The cartoon woman hardly had any herself. No more than a couple of inches arching back gracefully behind her ears, only one soft prong on each. She took hold of an infant swaddled in yellow, its little head smooth as glass. ¡°It isn¡¯t until around the age of two that most antlers begin to grow in.¡± Marilyn''s heart tried to sink as the child sprouted nubs from its skull, but she buoyed herself by focusing on the character design instead. A cute drawing; a talented artist behind it, truly.

    Marilyn swayed as the bus took a sharp corner. Her antlers rapped on the window, not for the first time that ride. The sound was a little strange that morning¡ªsharper than she thought it should be. She ran one finger along the velvet of the antler that had hit, finding nothing unusual.

    The bus driver caught sight of her in the rearview mirror and hoped to encourage her with a smile. A man sitting across from her raised his eyebrow at her, wondering just how someone could let themselves get to her condition. Marilyn saw neither. She kept her eyes on her assignment. She hadn¡¯t wanted to watch it in public, but the healers hadn¡¯t sent the charm over until seven that morning. Her appointment was for eight thirty.

    ¡°As we grow and learn to navigate our emotions, our antlers grow, too. It¡¯s the negative thoughts we experience that cause them to grow. Toddlers are known to have especially erratic growth spurts because they haven¡¯t yet learned how to guide their thoughts. Our parents, teachers, siblings, and friends help teach us how to navigate our world with a bright outlook. In turn, positive thoughts cause our antlers to shrink. Everyone¡¯s journey is different, but healthy children will begin to see changes in their antlers by the age of ten at the very latest.¡± Marilyn kept her eyes locked on the woman, letting the animated montage of childhood play just outside of her attention. She hoped the charm would allow this.

    She¡¯d watched the first of these as a child herself, alongside her peers in the third grade. Many of them were enjoying the shrinking of their antlers for the first time. Next was fifth grade, by which time half the students had little more than rounded twigs poking out from their hair. Another round in eighth grade, more eyes on her than on the screen; no one else in her class had antlers they couldn¡¯t cover with a hat.

    Hers had never shrunk. They¡¯d continued to grow through every birthday, doctor¡¯s appointment, and counseling session. She¡¯d finally chopped off most of her hair in tenth grade, frustrated with trying to brush it or keep it from tangling in her prongs. In twelfth grade, her class participated in a six-week program for managing unwieldy antlers, which featured three separate educational videos. None of the other senior classes had to.

    When she¡¯d been taken on full time at her position dispelling charms for a local jewelry reseller, her employer assigned their in-house production as a prerequisite for insurance coverage. The insurance company then sent their own.

    ¡°Wonderful new discoveries are being made every day in the field of human magic and antler study. For some, this can feel overwhelming, and you might ask yourself: What should I believe when it comes to my antler health? Don¡¯t worry. At the end of the day, it really is simple. Positive thoughts shrink them, and negative thoughts grow them.¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Glancing up just long enough to see where she was on the bus route, Marilyn realized she was going to arrive at her appointment a few minutes early. She smiled. They might finish with her a few minutes early as well, let her get to work faster, earn back a little of the goodwill that had been lost when she asked for the morning off.

    The bus driver, who had been checking in when the traffic allowed, was pleased to see her smile. Xe always felt hopeful toward people with larger antlers. They could turn their lives around, xe believed, and xer faith in them might help on some small, unknowable level.

    The educational video had found its stride. The woman was standing in front of a whiteboard now with a line drawn across it horizontally. The left end read negative and the other positive. She took a dry erase marker and said, ¡°Try this exercise at home at least once a week. Listen to the thoughts you¡¯re having, and place each one where it belongs on the spectrum. Let¡¯s do some together! Say I don¡¯t like the way my neighbor mows his lawn so early in the morning. Is that positive, or is it negative?¡± She drew an x on the negative end. ¡°We aren¡¯t going to try to contradict any of these thoughts right now. We¡¯re only here to observe. Let¡¯s try another one! I just remembered that I had a really good salad for lunch. Where should that thought go?¡± She drew an x on the positive side. ¡°Very good. Let¡¯s try one more. I¡¯ve realized that I¡¯m cold. Is that positive or negative?¡± She drew an x directly in the middle of the line. ¡°That was a trick question. Being cold in and of itself isn¡¯t positive or negative. If I had said that I was upset about being cold, or that I didn¡¯t like how cold my boss keeps it in the office, then we would put the x on the negative side. If I had said that the cold makes me excited for the change of seasons, we would put the x on the positive side. You see, you can control the emotions behind your thoughts. Even things that seem like they couldn¡¯t possibly be anything other than negative can become positive with the right effort.¡±

    Marilyn felt a physical anxiety grip her, as often happened when she watched these videos. She didn¡¯t let it manifest into a thought. Instead, she popped a mint in her mouth and focused on its strong flavor.

    ¡°You might think to yourself,¡± the woman said as she walked away from the whiteboard, ¡°that a few bad thoughts here and there won¡¯t hurt anything. And it¡¯s true that everyone has some. That¡¯s healthy and normal. What you have to watch out for is when you lose track of these thoughts, when you start having them without even realizing it. Remember, you can tell yourself that you¡¯re not thinking too many bad thoughts, but you can¡¯t tell your antlers that. They know the truth, and they¡¯ll tell it.¡±

    Marilyn waited until the credits finished and the screen went black to blink. Tears slipped through, as she¡¯d known they would, and she dabbed at them efficiently. The video had ended mere moments before her stop. She thought about the good fortune of this development.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Marilyn called as she stepped off the bus.

    The driver waved, politely pretending not to notice how Marilyn had to turn her head to fit through the door. She¡¯d be all right, xe insisted internally. She¡¯d find her way.

    The next bus line wasn¡¯t too far a walk. Two blocks up and one over, Marilyn confirmed on her phone, and she had a good buffer of time to work with.

    Her charm had turned yellow, as needed. She didn¡¯t know the specifics of this one. Healers tended to have advanced tricks up their sleeves, and the ones seeing her that morning had a strong reputation for their magical prowess. Well, that was why she wanted them to treat her, wasn¡¯t it? The charm might still have been active, was the thing, aligning itself with her mental energy to report her nature to its creator. So instead of thinking about how her body always ached for the first few minutes of every walk, no matter how rested she was, or how her daily headache was beginning to creep in, or how she would have preferred to sleep on the bus even though she¡¯d already gotten eleven hours of sleep the night before¡ªrather than any of this, she noted the blue sky, the crisp weather, and the pleasure of wearing a scarf for the first time that season.

    A praying mantis crossing the sidewalk caught Marilyn''s eye. The mantis took its great stuttering steps, stopping to sway like a thin branch in the wind with each movement, right in the path of foot traffic. Marilyn thought the insect could easily end up underfoot.

    A young man on his way to work spotted Marilyn watching the mantis and took interest. He¡¯d never seen someone with antlers so large. He wondered what kind of person she must be, wondered if he should cross the street before he got too close.

    Marilyn picked out a large maple leaf from the yard next to her. She brought it to the mantis, who fixed Marilyn with her enormous eyes and climbed onto the leaf.

    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Marilyn said. She''d become suddenly more aware of her antlers, their exact shape outlined by the faintest sensation of warmth. ¡°You can sense I¡¯m here to help, can¡¯t you? A smart young lady like yourself knows how to tell.¡±

    Marilyn laid the leaf gently on top of a hedge. ¡°Be safe today.¡± She walked away with a slight bow and ran straight into the young man who had been watching her.

    A pang of dread struck her as she heard the far branches of her antlers knock against his own modest pair. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry!¡±

    ¡°No, no, it¡¯s my fault,¡± he said, stepping back. ¡°I was just standing in the middle of the sidewalk without thinking.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll try to watch where I¡¯m going.¡± Marilyn stepped aside and motioned for him to pass. ¡°Have a good day.¡±

    ¡°To be honest, I couldn¡¯t help but stop and watch you rescue that bug. I was touched.¡± A little guilty as well, seeing as he¡¯d considered going out of his way to avoid her a moment ago.

    ¡°They¡¯re beautiful, aren¡¯t they? I¡¯ve always loved mantises.¡±

    ¡°I guess they freak me out a little, with the cannibalism and all.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s not as common as they say. Most species don¡¯t do that, and some of the ones we studied might have just been responding to the stress of being in captivity.¡±

    ¡°Is that right?¡±

    ¡°We didn¡¯t do right by these girls.¡± She felt herself talking too much, driven by the lingering anxiety of running into him. ¡°Kidnapped them, held them captive, then judged them for how they reacted. Not really fair, is it?¡± Marilyn laughed nervously.

    ¡°I never thought of it that way!¡± He indicated with a slight shift forward that he was ready to be on his way. ¡°Thanks for teaching me something. Take care.¡±

    ¡°You too!¡±

    As they parted ways, the young man thought to himself, ¡°So, that¡¯s it. I wondered how someone kind enough to stop and help a little bug could possibly have such large antlers. She¡¯s one of those over-thinking types.¡± He felt bad for her lot in life, but assured himself that she would surely still be in the goddess¡¯s favor in the end.

 Chapter Two

    Marilyn clutched the yellow charm as she waited for the next bus. She¡¯d heard wonderful things about these healers. It was rare to hear criticism of any kind, but one learned to parse the language. People seemed genuinely satisfied with their services. She¡¯d been to four other healers in the last two years. All perfectly capable, she trusted, but none able to cure Marilyn. They¡¯d each come to the conclusion that she would simply have to shrink her antlers if she was to make any progress with her health, and they couldn¡¯t do that for her. She had to do it for herself.

    Only, Marilyn knew that her antlers weren¡¯t the problem. They¡¯d been roughly the same size for the last fifteen years. Her health problems had only started two and a half years ago. When they did shrink an inch or so last fall, she had no relief whatsoever from her ailments, and when they regrew, it didn¡¯t come with any new or worsening symptoms. The healers she visited previously must not have seen a case like hers before. Her odds were better now. This clinic saw so many patients, it had taken six months just to get an appointment with them.

    The bus came to a stop in front of her. Marilyn put away her phone and fished out her wallet as she stepped up- or, tried to step up. She came to an abrupt stop in the doorway. Her antlers wouldn¡¯t let her through.

    Marilyn blushed. She normally kept a keen eye on the space around her. She pulled back and turned her head, trying a few different angles, but the unusually narrow doorframe caught her antlers each time.

    The bus driver looked on with pity and not a little panic. He wanted badly to help her out, but there was nothing he could do. Many city buses had been upgraded to be more accommodating, but plenty of the old models were still in circulation. He¡¯d heard of this sort of thing happening. He¡¯d never wanted to see it.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Marilyn said at last, taking a step back. ¡°Is there anything that can be done?¡±

    At a loss, the driver shook his head. How big were her antlers, exactly? He was sure he¡¯d never seen anything like them. ¡°Has this happened to you before?¡±

    Marilyn pushed past this question. ¡°Do you know when the next one will be along?¡±

    ¡°Half an hour,¡± he answered.

    Marilyn couldn¡¯t ignore the passengers staring down at her. She took careful note of a young girl with larger than average antlers peering through the window in abject horror. Marilyn guessed, correctly, that the girl was imagining this happening to her one day.

    ¡°Thank you so much,¡± Marilyn rallied, wanting to set a good example for her. ¡°I¡¯ll walk! It¡¯s a beautiful day, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am.¡± He felt proud of her effort. ¡°You have a good day, now.¡±

    ¡°You too!¡± She waited for the bus to round a corner before blotting her eyes on her sleeve. The little girl had seemed somewhat put at ease. Surely she wouldn¡¯t ever have to go through what Marilyn went through¡ª the city would continue retiring and replacing these old buses, and anyway, a child her age would be learning how to shrink her antlers any day now.

    She retreated to the bus stop bench. Walking wouldn¡¯t get her to the appointment on time, and even if she managed to fit on the next bus, she was still looking at arriving at least twenty minutes late. The clinic had strict rules about punctuality. She took out her phone and called their front desk.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± a sweet voice answered, ¡°you¡¯ve reached the Schoenberg Healing Clinic. This is Julienne speaking.¡±

    ¡°Good morning, Julienne. I have an appointment this morning, but I¡­ ran into some trouble, and it looks like I¡¯m going to be late.¡±

    ¡°Are you all right?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes, thank you. But I won¡¯t be able to make it on time.¡±

    ¡°First, let¡¯s pull up your file.¡± The healer¡¯s assistant asked for Marilyn''s information, which she provided while standing and walking in the direction of the clinic. It would be faster, if only just.

    ¡°Here we are. You¡¯re with Healer VanGaalen.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°Ze¡¯s very busy. You were warned that we can¡¯t guarantee your place in line if you¡¯re late, weren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I didn¡¯t mean to be. It¡¯s sometimes difficult, you see¡­ That is, it can be challenging to get around.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡±

    Marilyn felt something wet trickling down her neck. ¡°My antlers, I mean.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I see you have a significantly large pair. I still don¡¯t follow.¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t get through the bus door.¡± She wiped her neck and checked her fingers. Marilyn couldn¡¯t remember getting a scratch. Where was the blood from?

    The assistant asked briskly, ¡°How late do you think you¡¯ll be?¡±

    ¡°About twenty minutes,¡± Marilyn replied, trying to sound neither too desperate nor too nonchalant.

    The assistant sucked in a breath. ¡°We have a very delicate schedule here. A few minutes is always understandable, of course, but with anything over fifteen minutes, we almost always have to reschedule. Yes, no, I¡¯m afraid we can¡¯t accommodate that today.¡±

    ¡°Is there anything I can do?¡± She picked up the pace, but even at a dead sprint, she would never get there on time.

    ¡°Well¡ª I¡¯m looking through the day. It seems another healer just had an appointment cancelled for twelve fifteen this afternoon. The goddess must love you,¡± the assistant added.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take it.¡± Otherwise, she would most likely have to wait another six months.

    ¡°All right.¡± Marilyn heard the sound of typing. ¡°You¡¯ll be seeing Healer Felton. And you watched the educational video?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± The assistant went quiet for too long. Marilyn sensed what was coming. ¡°I¡¯d like to offer you some personal advice, Miss.¡±

    Marilyn pressed her lips shut. She had the appointment. Nothing else mattered.

    ¡°I see in your file that you¡¯ve struggled for a long time with antler growth. You know, the more you think of others, the easier it is to see real progress.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Marilyn agreed pleasantly.

    ¡°I¡¯m only saying this because it seems like you need to learn. This morning, for instance¡ª well, you must be used to this kind of thing happening, right? With how long you¡¯ve been at this size. It can¡¯t be the first time a door wasn¡¯t big enough for you. So, for next time, just think ahead. Leave a little earlier to account for that. Remember how it impacts other people when you¡¯re running late. It¡¯s easy, see?¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Marilyn answered. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ll do better in the future.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you will, dear.¡± The assistant hung up.

    She¡¯d wanted to leave earlier, but Marilyn needed to wait for the clinic¡¯s charm to arrive. It didn¡¯t matter. She couldn¡¯t get on their bad side this early. The assistant might decide that Marilyn was too difficult to work with and couldn¡¯t be helped. People were quick to label her that way. In fact, they did so without realizing it, and rather than striving to make a good impression, Marilyn often found she had to spend most of her energy fixing the impression she¡¯d already made by no choice of her own.

    But she had the appointment. That was what mattered.

    Marilyn checked the time. If she went into work now, she¡¯d only be able to stay for about an hour before needing to leave again. The clinic might never let her reschedule if she ran late again. She took three steadying breaths and called her manager.

    ¡°Leland,¡± he answered.

    ¡°Good morning. It¡¯s Marilyn.¡±

    ¡°On your way early?¡±

    If the slight increase in her pace hadn¡¯t already raised her heart rate to an unreasonable degree, Marilyn might have reconsidered even going to the Healer. It couldn¡¯t be helped. She switched her phone to her other ear and used the few seconds it gained her to plead for courage.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°I ran into some trouble, and I had to do some rescheduling today. I¡¯m sorry. I won¡¯t be able to come in this morning. But I can be in by two.¡±

    ¡°Ah, Marilyn,¡± he sighed. ¡°Look. I know things aren¡¯t easy for you. We¡¯ve already made so many accommodations.¡± In truth, they¡¯d made none. The fact of the matter was, when the other employees took sick time, it was seen as simply part of their benefits; when Marilyn did the same, it became an accommodation. ¡°We want to see you do well, of course.¡±

    ¡°I know. I really appreciate that.¡±

    ¡°Have you ever considered that this might be part of your, you know, problem?¡±

    A songbird perched on Marilyn''s left antler. Two others flew to her right antler. She focused on their pleasant chatter. The birds always approached her first.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to ask for more time, Leland,¡± Marilyn said.

    ¡°Now, that¡¯s exactly what I mean. It can¡¯t be a net positive, can it? Asking other people for so much all the time? Look, it¡¯s just something to think about. I¡¯ll let the others know you¡¯ll be late. See you when you get in.¡±

    ¡°Ok. Thank you.¡± She hung up and let the dizzy tide of emotions wash in, over, and away from her. She would get to her appointment. She would go in to work after, and do her best to make up for lost time. She would feel better soon, soon, soon.

    Up ahead, a squirrel scurried along a tree with a seed in his mouth. He positioned himself just so. Marilyn recognized his body language and slowed her walk as she passed the tree; he leapt onto her shoulder and got to work on his seed there.

    She felt a low hum in her antlers. It translated into something like worry and comfort combined, though Marilyn wasn¡¯t sure how she knew that. She took out a small red notebook bound with twine, and she added to an ever growing list: antlers hum? If she didn¡¯t remember to bring up a symptom until later, the healers assumed it was one that didn¡¯t bother her much- not worth worrying over.

    Marilyn maintained hope there was a secret, specific order and combination of symptoms she might discover that would spark recognition or at least interest from the healers. If she could only work out the code, they would finally understand that something wasn¡¯t right, and they would help her fix it.

    A white Persian cat with piercing green eyes slid out from a hedge several feet in front of her. The cat trotted up to Marilyn and rubbed her legs repeatedly, then positioned himself to calibrate a jump. Marilyn held her arms open. The cat sprang into them and cuddled her cheek on the side opposite the squirrel, purring.

    The animals never fought when they were with her. Often they simply ignored one another; sometimes, they groomed or otherwise comforted each other.

    ¡°Dad!¡± A little boy stood pointing on his front porch. ¡°Dad look!¡±

    His father glanced up from his gardening and followed the boy¡¯s finger to Marilyn.

    ¡°Look how much the animals love her.¡± It took every ounce of his six year old will to keep from running over to Marilyn.

    His father laughed. ¡°Of course the animals love her. She practically is one!¡±

    Marilyn hugged the cat close as the father and son shared a belly laugh. Their own antlers were modest, so they couldn¡¯t have meant anything bad by it. She liked animals. She¡¯d have loved to be one. Maybe it was even a compliment, if you looked it that way.

    She needed to consider her next move. Heading straight for the healers would get her there three hours early. They might assume she was trying to push her way in early and rebuke her.

    Her next phone call eased the tension from her shoulders. ¡°Penn!¡±

    ¡°Mariiiiiiiiiii!¡± Penn shouted so loud she held the phone away from her ear for the duration.

    ¡°How are you?¡±

    ¡°All right,¡± they answered. ¡°I¡¯m behind on my commissions, but too much work is a good problem to have.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fantastic!¡±

    ¡°Yeah! How are you?¡±

    Marilyn scratched the Persian cat¡¯s chin. ¡°I made some new friends.¡±

    ¡°Ooh, what do we have this time? Furry, scaly, or feathered?¡±

    ¡°No scales yet, but the day is young. Have you seen a white cat with green eyes around your neighborhood?¡±

    ¡°Mmm, I think I have¡­¡± Penn slapped their desk hard enough to be audible through the phone. ¡°WAIT. Are you in my neighborhood right now?¡±

    ¡°I am.¡±

    ¡°I thought you had a doctor¡¯s appointment?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a long story. Actually, I have a couple of hours to kill. But I don¡¯t want to interrupt your work.¡±

    ¡°Come over! I¡¯m putting on a pot of tea right now.¡±

    Marilyn smiled. ¡°You sure?¡±

    ¡°Positive. I¡¯ve been working nonstop for five hours.¡± She could hear them tearing through their cabinets, doors slamming and cups clinking. ¡°My hands are dying. You¡¯re saving my life right now.¡±

    ¡°Ok. I¡¯m about five minutes away.¡±

    Penn made a half squealing, half cheering sound. ¡°Door¡¯s unlocked! Come right in when you get here.¡±

    Animals came and left as Marilyn walked along. The cat retreated home at the end of the block; birds flitted around her antlers; the squirrel ran off in search of more food; a coyote came to her for a few head scratches, then slipped away between the houses; people stared. They always stared.

    Marilyn gave the last of the birds a moment to fly off before stepping into Penn¡¯s apartment. She tripped over her left foot and caught her antlers on the door frame, scraping them loudly.

    From the back, Penn called, ¡°Marilyn?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s me!¡± She locked the door behind her and slid her shoes off.

    ¡°I¡¯m in the kitchen.¡±

    And so they were, pouring cookies from a tin to a saucer set on the table between two steaming teacups. The teacups, like the rest of Penn¡¯s modest, tidy kitchen, were pink and green with gold flourishes.

    ¡°Peppermint,¡± Penn said. Marilyn''s favorite tea.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know how badly I needed this.¡± She took a seat and folded her hands around the warm ceramic, leaning in for a deep breath of perfectly steeped tea.

    ¡°But I do know how much you deserve good things that make you happy.¡± Penn planted themself across the table and started doling out teaspoons of honey. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±

    ¡°Like you¡¯re the best friend anyone could ask for, and I¡¯m the luckiest person in the world.¡±

    Penn blushed a little- not from embarrassment, but from the rush of joy they got hearing this.

    Marilyn always adored Penn¡¯s blushing. Their antlers had grown over the past couple of years, however, and with that came extra scrutiny. She worried that Penn would one day grow self-conscious of their wonderful glow.

    She¡¯d just have to love them too much for that to happen.

    ¡°You look so cute today! I love your sweater,¡± Marilyn said.

    ¡°Thank you! I made it! Look!¡± Penn stood up and shoved their hands into deep pockets on the sweater¡¯s sides. In their excitement, they knocked out a pencil and a thin, dry paintbrush.

    ¡°Amazing! Did you get the pockets enchanted?¡±

    ¡°Nah,¡± Penn giggled, giddy with pride. ¡°That¡¯s a pretty good idea for the next one, though.¡± They plopped down in their seat and did a double take at Marilyn. ¡°What happened?¡±

    She remembered the blood on her neck. ¡°I was rushing around this morning.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s clean you up,¡± Penn said as they hurried to the bathroom.

    ¡°I don¡¯t even remember what I did.¡±

    Penn returned with a damp washcloth, bandages, disinfectant, and a look of concern. ¡°Oh, Marilyn. You really don¡¯t remember what happened?¡±

    ¡°No, why?¡±

    Giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, Penn set their supplies down and lifted a small crescent moon mirror off the wall. They handed it to Marilyn.

    Marilyn held it out to see herself while Penn dabbed at her neck with the warm washcloth. Her shoulder was speckled with browning spots, and a thin streak of fresh blood ran from her hairline down to her collarbone. She shifted, tracing the path with her eyes until she found its source: her antlers. A strip of velvet hung from the lowest prong on her left side.

    ¡°It¡¯s so red,¡± she whispered. ¡°I hit it on the doorframe coming in, but that shouldn¡¯t have¡­¡±

    ¡°It really doesn¡¯t hurt?¡±

    Still watching her reflection, Marilyn reached up and brushed the bloody prong with one finger. ¡°Is it worse if it doesn¡¯t hurt?¡±

    ¡°Oh, sweetheart,¡± Penn whispered as they wrapped Marilyn in their careful arms. ¡°It¡¯ll be ok.¡± They willed this as they repeated it a few times more.

    ¡°It could help me.¡±

    Penn drew back to hear her out. Marilyn explained, ¡°My appointment with the healers today. They¡¯ll see something¡¯s wrong. They can¡¯t ignore this.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Penn blotted the blood from Marilyn''s antler, watching her for signs of pain. ¡°Maybe they¡¯ll know what it is now.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll have to. All my other symptoms are so vague, they could mean anything. But have you ever seen this before?¡±

    Penn¡¯s eyes watered and they shook their head.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get some kind of answer today. I know it.¡± Marilyn finally treated herself to a drink, letting a sad but comfortable silence settle over them as Penn wrapped the exposed prong and its shedding velvet in gauze.

    ¡°You must be so tired,¡± they said at length.

    ¡°I think I could sleep for a month.¡±

    ¡°How about an hour?¡±

    Marilyn''s face broke into a deep smile. ¡°That sounds wonderful.¡±

    ¡°Couch, bed, or beanbag?¡±

    ¡°Beanbag.¡±

    Penn secured the gauze, squeezed Marilyn''s shoulders, and said, ¡°Bring your tea. I¡¯ll bring the cookies.¡±

    Marilyn and Penn made their way to the living room, where she pulled a beanbag the size of a small bed out of the corner while Penn plugged in the string lights hung in rows across the ceiling. Turning out the main light, Penn grabbed a throw from the back of the sofa and settled into the beanbag with Marilyn.

    ¡°Read you a story?¡± Penn offered.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get back to our old friend Morris.¡± Marilyn produced a slim, glossy booklet from an inner pocket of her cardigan and handed it over to a squealing Penn. She pulled the blanket up to her shoulder, nestling her head into the beanbag at just the right angle to keep her antlers from poking it.

    ¡°A new edition!¡±

    ¡°It came in the mail last week along with my appointment reminder,¡± Marilyn reported, her voice already weighed down by the pull of sleep.

    ¡°Ooh, it looks like the intro has been updated. We¡¯ll start from the beginning, then.¡± Penn cleared their throat and read aloud:

    Hello. I¡¯m Morris.

    I want to start by saying that I¡¯m not a certified life coach. I¡¯m not a professional writer or a doctor, either. I¡¯m just an ordinary person who¡¯s trying his best to get by.

    You see, I know what it¡¯s like. I, too, have struggled to seem like someone who is functioning on even the most basic levels. In recent years, I¡¯ve crafted many invaluable techniques to that end. Techniques that have helped me to appear to become a healthy, stable, and self-actualized person. Techniques that I want to share with you. I¡¯ve written a simple and effective guide, free of judgment, so that you, too, can make it to the end of each and every day.

    It is my hope that after reading this guide, you will join me in the lukewarm light of optimism. As anyone who has subsisted on the cold comfort of shadows and regrets will tell you, it is relatively glorious.

    Penn gave an earnest, drawn out performance, only breaking character with a restrained laugh on the last line. They lowered the booklet and said, ¡°I can¡¯t believe they keep getting away with this. I mean, it¡¯s funny, so it can¡¯t be negative, right? But I¡¯m shocked this hasn¡¯t been confiscated.¡±

    Marilyn didn¡¯t answer. She had fallen into a deep sleep somewhere in the third paragraph. Penn studied the gauze on her antler and said a small prayer to the goddess for their friend, hoping the desperation that seeped in wouldn¡¯t count against them. Was desperation negative, they wondered? It didn¡¯t feel good, but it didn¡¯t feel wrong, either. They closed their eyes and repeated their prayer.

    ***

    The goddess listened well to all who prayed to her. Sometimes she did it to soothe her anger, sometimes to remember that anger. In rare cases, such as Penn¡¯s prayer, she did both at once.

    Her children had forgotten her. Though they spoke of the Stagmother often- sang songs to her, painted, sculpted, wrote of her, and yes, prayed to her at every hour- they would not recognize her if she appeared before them.

    When she appeared before them.

 Chapter Three

    Marilyn made it to her rescheduled appointment on time. The extra rest had done her good¡ª she didn¡¯t feel better, but had staved off the usual progression of worsening symptoms as the day wore on¡ª and she channeled her gratitude into a pleasant, deferential demeanor that helped her navigate the clinic staff¡¯s painfully apparent expectations of trouble from her.

    In the waiting room, all white and grey, she studied the miniature shrine they had constructed for the Stagmother. Depictions of the goddess typically came in three forms: a great stag, a robed figure with the body of a woman and the head of a stag, or a woman with extraordinarily large antlers. Each had sixteen points on her antlers. To Marilyn¡¯s relief, this clinic chose to display the stag form. Seeing the woman form always upset her. Though her own antlers had eight points, they were of a similar size. Only the goddess was meant to look that way, as she carried the sorrows of the world; in the eyes of some, doing so yourself was an insult to the Stagmother that might even amount to blasphemy.

    ¡°Marilyn,¡± a staff member called her. She smiled and followed obediently.

    They brought her through a series of hallways narrow enough she had to turn her head. The staff member asked in a tone of pleasant reminiscing, ¡°Newborn at home?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Marilyn was used to the question. New parents often experienced growth spurts in their antlers.

    ¡°Oh.¡± The front desk hadn''t warned them; they''d have been much more cautious around this new patient if they''d know she had no good reason for her antlers. Without another word, they dropped her off at a curtained room well in the back of the building.

    There, Marilyn stepped onto the familiar platform, folded her hands, and stood waiting under buzzing lights for the healer to arrive. Stagmother images watched her from posters, figurines, and paintings around the room. She went over her symptoms in her mind to be sure she wouldn¡¯t forget anything.

    ¡°Marilyn?¡± A middle aged woman in healer¡¯s robes stepped into the room, bringing with her an air of authority and calm.

    ¡°Good afternoon,¡± Marilyn answered. She found herself suddenly too exhausted to straighten her posture, but kept herself from slouching further.

    ¡°How are you feeling today?¡±

    Marilyn theorized that healers always began a session with this question in order to gauge their patient¡¯s mindset, not their wellbeing. She¡¯d yet to be wrong. ¡°I¡¯m certain it could be worse,¡± she replied.

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t it always? My name¡¯s Healer Fenton. I was going over your information this morning. You¡¯ve been tired and sore, yes?¡±

    ¡°Maybe more than tired,¡± she corrected Fenton meekly. ¡°I¡¯ve been having some symptoms I can¡¯t shake¡ª a long time,¡± Marilyn added, losing her place, flushing with anxiety. ¡°Sorry. Let me start over. I have fatigue, muscle aches, and headaches on a daily basis. I can¡¯t stop sleeping. I get ten or more hours of sleep at night, and I still fall asleep during the day.¡±

    ¡°Yes, this makes sense. At their size, your antlers are rather a lot to carry around all day. I¡¯d imagine you feel exhausted from the weight.¡± As she spoke, Fenton looked from the clipboard in her hand to Marilyn and back again.

    ¡°They¡¯re quite light, really.¡± Marilyn moved her head around as if to demonstrate, feeling ridiculous as she did so- the healer had no way of knowing what her antlers felt like to her.

    Fenton surprised her with an approving nod. ¡°A statement like that is just what I anticipated. Indeed, I would have been surprised to hear anything else from you.¡± She set the clipboard down and stepped closer to Marilyn. ¡°As soon as I saw the gauze on your antler, after reading about your long struggle with their size, I knew what to expect from you. Yes, I see the other antler is shedding, too. It¡¯s exactly as I thought. You¡¯ve made tremendous progress. You¡¯ve learned to see the world in a positive light, and I¡¯m sure that within this new mindset, your antlers really do seem like they weigh nothing at all. That¡¯s the power of positive thinking that you¡¯ve finally discovered for yourself.¡±

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Marilyn openly gawked at the healer, her careful composure giving way to bewilderment. Not one figure in the long line of professionals tasked with helping her had ever interpreted her words as positive. Not once. Hardly realizing it, she touched the gauze and asked, ¡°I¡¯m okay?¡±

    ¡°Oh, sweetheart. You¡¯ve been working so hard. I can see that. This is a good thing!¡±

    ¡°I just, I had never heard of anything like this before.¡±

    Fenton smiled. This was the most rewarding part of her work: counseling and guiding her patients. Not just healing them, but reshaping them into happier, healthier people who didn''t need healing. ¡°It¡¯s no wonder you¡¯ve had such a difficult time with your efforts. Even when something good happens, you worry about it. But look, it¡¯s simple: your antlers are far larger than the average pair, and they got too big to shrink away like most people¡¯s do. Deer lose their velvet when their antlers are done growing. It follows that yours are done growing, too, and you¡¯ll soon shed them completely if you continue on this course.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve seen this before?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve read about it,¡± Fenton explained. ¡°Quite a rare phenomenon. Certainly some people lose their antlers through gradual shrinking, or never grow much of a pair to begin with, but yours may well be a unique case. Was there anything different about your antlers before the velvet began shedding?¡±

    ¡°I did notice that they seemed to have hardened,¡± Marilyn offered.

    ¡°Precisely what we would want to see. Yes, this is very good. Now, why don¡¯t we go ahead with the scan? No harm in making sure everything else is running smoothly, hm?¡±

    Fenton gathered her energy to perform the spell that would run through Marilyn¡¯s entire body to reveal its workings, laying bare any deviations from a normal, healthy system.

    Marilyn had had half a dozen such scans in the last two years. None revealed anything to the healers who¡¯d performed them. But this healer was different. Marilyn¡¯s heart pounded with confused, pained hope as she gripped Fenton¡¯s praise tighter and tighter in her mind.

    Marilyn¡¯s antlers grew warm as the healer concentrated, and she asked, ¡°Do your antlers ever feel like they¡¯re heating up?¡±

    ¡°No, but of course ours are remarkably different from each other. That may be a symptom of yours hardening and preparing to shed. Given the unique nature of your situation, you should keep note of everything you experience. Science will surely thank you. But for now, I¡¯m ready to begin- shall we?¡±

    Nodding, Marilyn relaxed in order to ease the spell¡¯s movements through her. She¡¯d once overheard another patient describe the procedure as like hearing every cell in your body speak, but in a language you couldn¡¯t understand. This was the first time Marilyn had ever understood what they meant. Maybe she had never managed to fully relax in previous sessions. Could that be why none of the healers had found anything wrong with her? Could it mean she would finally, finally have an answer?

    Indeed, as Fenton performed her spell and received the data it collected, she found a clear diagnosis laid out before her. A textbook case of Foxboro Fade. Considering that all of the young lady¡¯s previous scans had come back clean, the most recent of which being less than eight months ago, it would have manifested recently. Those with larger antlers were well known to be more susceptible to disease. The stress of their negative mindset often wreaked havoc on their health. It was no surprise to find her carrying some form of illness.

    The timing didn¡¯t strike Fenton as any coincidence. Miss Marilyn here had only just begun to make real progress after more than a decade of professional intervention. Without a doubt, contracting Foxboro Fade and experiencing genuine hardship for the first time had pushed her to make to the necessary lifestyle changes she¡¯d lacked the willpower to enact before.

    The Fade wasn¡¯t much fun in its early stages: its aches and exhaustion surely took their toll. Nonetheless, it wasn¡¯t anything serious until the second or third year. Curing it before then was a simple matter of performing the three hour advanced healing spell every healer learned in year one of their training.

    Fenton considered the best course of action. If it really was the disease that had spurred Marilyn to improve herself¡ª and it had to have been¡ª then healing her at this early stage in her recovery might strip away all motivation to continue improving. Marilyn might lose all her hard-won progress. This was the difference between a good healer and a great one, Fenton had been taught: you don¡¯t just treat the disease. You treat the whole person.

    She would hold off on healing Marilyn.

    ¡°Good news,¡± Fenton announced as the last of her spell wound its way back to her. ¡°You¡¯ve got yourself a clean bill of health.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Marilyn drew her arms in, her body unconsciously returning to a state of tension now that she had no specific reason to relax.

    ¡°Indeed. You¡¯re working very hard right now, and you can expect to still feel the challenges of that work, but I urge you to push through. Your life is going to be so much better for it. I¡¯d like to keep an eye on you, Marilyn. It¡¯s really quite rare for someone with antlers your size to lose them. Your journey could help many others. Come back to see me in two months.¡± Fenton would heal her then.

    ¡°Okay. I, um¡­ I don¡¯t know how to thank you. Thank you so very much, Healer Fenton. You don¡¯t know what all this means to me.¡±

    Fenton gave a satisfied smile. Gratitude was a sure sign of a healthy mind. Marilyn was going to be just fine, she knew. ¡°It¡¯s my pleasure, dear.¡±

 Chapter Four

    Marilyn¡¯s bed was a bloody mess in the morning. She¡¯d shed more in her long sleep, staining her pajamas, sheets, pillows, and blanket in the process. Velvet hung from her antlers in strips.

    As she gingerly peeled the remaining velvet away, Marilyn budgeted the cost of treating every single stain she¡¯d left. Work took the vast majority of her energy each day. She had time to eat, bathe, and tackle one or two simple chores in the evening before sleep overtook her. Getting this much blood out of this many linens would take more time than she had to spare. Given it was her only set, once she started, she¡¯d have to finish if she meant to sleep on them that night.

    Or she could simply wash them and let the stains set. They were hers, after all. Marilyn never brought anyone to the dank little basement room she rented, not even Penn; no one else was ever going to see her bed. Perhaps it could serve as a personal reminder of all that she had worked for once her antlers were gone.

    Marilyn threw everything in the wash, buoyed by her thoughts of the future.

    She studied her reflection as she buttoned up a fresh shirt. Her antlers were now not only larger than everyone else¡¯s, they were also harder and sharper. A distant kind of panic seemed to call out to her, but couldn¡¯t make itself heard over the sound of Healer Fenton¡¯s praise. Marilyn smiled shyly at herself.

    Still, people were going to stare at her more than ever today. She added an oversized scarf and sunglasses to her outfit for hiding behind. Work was only a short walk away- one of the greatest factors in how she¡¯d been able to sustain her job in spite of her health- so she wouldn¡¯t have to endure passersby for too long. Of course, her coworkers were another matter. Marilyn set these thoughts aside as unhelpful in the moment, and she set out for work.

    She kept her chin tucked into the scarf and stared hard at the ground in front of her for the duration of the walk. A few whispers, what might have been a gasp, and the imagined heat of many eyes on her broke through Marilyn¡¯s concentration, but only momentarily. Healer Fenton had encouraged her to keep pushing. This next phase would likely be the most difficult in what was already a near unbearable struggle, but when she came out the other side, Marilyn would finally be free of all of it. So let them stare, she told herself. Let them point and talk and laugh louder than ever before. This was their last chance.

    The sense of defiance behind these thoughts came and went as quickly as a heartbeat, taking Marilyn by surprise. She felt no ill will toward other people. They all wanted what was best for her, just as she wanted what was best for them, as it had always been. Her fatigue was getting the better of her. She turned her mind instead to the day¡¯s work.

    The secondhand jewelry shop where she worked generally took on two types of charms: the kind that didn¡¯t hold their enchantments well, and were therefore cheap and easy to process, and those that held enchantments exceptionally well, which gave them a high enough resale value to make dispelling them more than worthwhile. Marilyn specialized in the latter. She¡¯d set a particularly tricky one aside for today with the suspicion she would be grateful for the distraction. And so it was- though her walk had worn her out terribly, the promise of a good challenge gave Marilyn the strength to meet her visibly shocked coworkers with sufficient cheer before she retreated to her station in the back room.

    The work enveloped her immediately. Dispelling charms largely consisted of forming a connection with the magician who had enchanted the piece via the magic they had left behind, then repeating the steps they had taken to cast the spell, but in reverse. Outside of a specialized lab, it was a practice of precision in an environment of chaos. It required a perfect coordination of her intentions with those of the magician; though their efforts might be separated by years, decades, or even centuries, every disenchantment was a collaboration between spell caster and spell breaker.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    Remnant magic in the charms contained a wealth of information. Marilyn could ascertain the temperature, humidity, lighting, and any other of a myriad factors from the day the charm had been created. In a more controlled setting, she would then match her environment as closely as possible, strengthening her temporary bond with the magician whose work she sought to undo. In the former storage closet where she plied her trade, she couldn¡¯t even get rid of the smell of tobacco left behind by the previous tenant.

    She thrived here.

    Something about making it work when it shouldn¡¯t, Marilyn guessed¡ª she¡¯d never quite figured it out. It was more than the simple joy of being good at something. Not that she underestimated that. She¡¯d had the knack for dispelling from the very first time she tried it for extra credit in art school. It didn¡¯t hurt that when the other students realized the money they¡¯d save bringing their secondhand charms to her for dispelling so they could enchant their projects and tools, they¡¯d started treating her with less suspicion.

    The sound of Leland clearing his throat brought Marilyn gently out of focus. Her mental grip on the spell she¡¯d been dismantling slipped, but with a quick whisper, she conjured a pair of hands to hold the charm in her place, preventing the magic from rebuilding itself while she turned her head to greet her manager.

    ¡°Good morning, Leland.¡±

    ¡°Afternoon,¡± he corrected her, openly staring.

    ¡°How are you?¡±

    ¡°Mm,¡± he answered affirmatively. He hadn¡¯t heard her question. Tracy at the cash register had warned him, but seeing it was another thing entirely. No longer soft and rounded at the tips, Marilyn¡¯s antlers looked like those of a stag in winter. She hardly looked human.

    ¡°Anything I can help with?¡±

    Leland collected himself. ¡°How are you doing, Marilyn?¡±

    His grim tone made her nervous, but she kept Healer Fenton¡¯s words close to her thoughts. ¡°Now that you mention it, I¡¯m doing really well. I was a little overwhelmed yesterday and I forgot to tell you. I got good news.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°The healer told me¡­¡± She hadn¡¯t said it out loud yet. Marilyn was terrified of making it unreal by speaking it. She told herself to keep pushing. ¡°I¡¯m doing it, Leland. I¡¯m losing my antlers. They aren¡¯t going to shrink, they¡¯re going to shed. The healer said she¡¯d never seen anyone my size make such progress.¡± Marilyn blinked away tears, hoping he didn¡¯t notice.

    ¡°Oh, Mari,¡± he whispered, breaking into a touched smile. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m so happy for you. The Goddess sees you. I¡¯m sure of it. You¡¯re such a hard worker,¡± he added, nodding to himself.

    Eyes widening, Marilyn turned the rest of her body in her swivel chair to face Leland. ¡°What?¡±

    Leland took her shock for humility. He was busy telling himself that she really had been listening to him all these years. He¡¯d never wanted to overstep, but he did try to gently guide her as a figure of authority in her life, and his efforts had evidently paid off.

    He pointed to the charm and asked, ¡°How¡¯s it coming along?¡±

    ¡°N¡­ nearly done, sir,¡± Marilyn recovered.

    ¡°Very good. Why don¡¯t you take the rest of the day off when you finish there?¡±

    This time Marilyn couldn¡¯t speak; she mouthed the word what with a bewildered expression.

    ¡°Take some time for your health. That¡¯s the most important thing. I¡¯m so happy for you, Mari. Go home and just focus on all that¡¯s good in this life, ok?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± she answered automatically, defaulting to obedience when her confusion failed to produce a response. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Leland chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re one of the best, kid.¡± He tapped the door frame. ¡°Good work today.¡±

    Marilyn dove straight back into her dispelling. She¡¯d hit a good stride before Leland came in, and was able to ride the momentum to a painless finish; it only took another hour before the charm was completely empty of magic. She then placed it in a velvet-lined wooden box on a table next to the door, indicating it was ready to be cleaned, priced, and set in the display case.

    Her coworkers smiled brightly as she exited her closet, telling her:

    ¡°Have a good day!¡±

    ¡°Congrats, Mari!¡±

    ¡°See you tomorrow!¡±

    With a polite smile and wave, Marilyn hurried out the door. She heard a gasp to her left and realized she¡¯d forgotten her scarf and glasses. Not wanting to go back for them, Marilyn forged ahead, letting her emotions run loud enough to drown out the world around her.

    When she finally made it into the humid dark of her apartment, she burst into tears.

 Chapter Five

    Your home is your sanctuary.

    Set aside a place- somewhere small, dark, and safe, somewhere utterly private. Maybe an unused closet, the cabinet under the kitchen sink, or the space beneath your bed. This is your ¡°sad space¡±. It is the only place in the whole world where you are allowed to feel sad.

    It might be a good place to hide this book.

    Marilyn chuckled with a slight nervous air and set the pamphlet aside. When reading such excerpts with Penn, it felt safe to find them funny. Alone in her bed, an unwelcome sense of taboo crept in.

    The healers themselves distributed this writing. It couldn¡¯t be anything bad. Nonetheless, she couldn¡¯t help but worry what Leland or Fenton would think, whether their praise might evaporate if they found out that laughing at Morris¡¯s dark musings was sometimes the best part of her day. Worse still, reading these hurt her in a way. But the pain made her feel better after. Everyone would give up on Marilyn and her eight point antlers forever if they knew that.

    She stretched her arms and back, pulling her blood stained sheets away from her, and shook her thoughts away. Much of her Saturday was gone already. Marilyn needed to get going. She and Penn were taking a little drive out to visit her mothers, to give them her good news in person. It would be her first time visiting them in close to a year.

    As much as she¡¯d missed seeing them in person, Marilyn didn¡¯t regret waiting until she finally had something positive to tell them. Their looks of loving worry had a way of haunting her. Buttoning up a floral print shirt, she tried instead to picture the relief and excitement Momma B and Momma G would surely feel today.

    A polite couple of honks alerted her to Penn¡¯s arrival. Marilyn straightened her clothes, double checked her pockets, and went to meet them as eagerly as her tired body would allow.

    ¡°Marilyyyyyyyyn,¡± Penn sang from the driver¡¯s seat.

    ¡°Peeeeeeeeeenn,¡± she answered, throwing her head back dramatically as she opened the passenger side door.

    ¡°Both of your moms called me separately to thank me for driving you today,¡± they reported.

    Marilyn buckled in. ¡°You¡¯re definitely getting cookies.¡±

    Penn almost joked they would have driven Marilyn home every day for Momma G¡¯s cardamon rose cookies, but they knew why she hadn¡¯t been visiting. It was no good making her feel bad about not seeing her mothers more. ¡°Gonna be a great day,¡± they course-corrected.

    ¡°How¡¯s the art going?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m all caught up! Really got into the zone, pulled an all-nighter a couple of nights ago, knocked all the orders out. But now I¡¯m waiting for more and itching for something to work on. I don¡¯t like starting a new project without being super sure I can finish it, you know? I hate stopping partway through. So I didn¡¯t work on anything yesterday, thinking a new order might come in, but it never did and now I¡¯ve wasted a whole day.¡± They swatted the thought away with a wave of their hand. ¡°How¡¯s work?¡±

    After too long a stretch of silence, Penn glanced over to find that Marilyn had already fallen asleep. They sighed with a mix of affection, worry, and disappointment, then went on quietly:

    ¡°I miss you, Marilyn. I hope to the goddess you really are getting better. Let¡¯s see¡­. Back in school, I think you would have scolded me for working too hard, and told me that taking a day off isn¡¯t wasting it. The other kids were so competitive. It was inspiring, but¡­¡± Insufferable was the word Penn couldn¡¯t quite reach. Far too negative, with no way silver lining to point out. ¡°I just felt better around you. Safer, happier, more relaxed than I¡¯d ever been around anyone else.¡±

    They glanced at her again. Marilyn didn¡¯t seem to actually be feeling any better¡ª at least, not from the outside. She looked so fragile. She still couldn¡¯t keep herself awake. They knew that the healers had nothing but good news, but it was proving difficult for Penn to believe. The rapid change in her antlers frightened them.

    A squirrel ran out into the road, twitching right in the car¡¯s path with panicked indecision, and Penn swerved hard to avoid it. Marilyn¡¯s right antler slammed into the passenger window.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry!¡± Penn cried, pulling over by the side of the road. In the rearview, they saw with relief a flash of squirrel tail disappearing into roadside brush. At least it had gotten clear of the road. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    Dazed, Marilyn answered as she reached for her head, ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Then her hand grazed the injury.

    Both of them realized at the same time, and both of them gave the same horrified gasp. Marilyn¡¯s right antler had broken clean off.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± she insisted, her voice a little too high. ¡°This is what the healers said would happen. It¡¯s good.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Penn encouraged her weakly.

    ¡°Should I¡­ break the other one off?¡±

    ¡°N-no! I mean, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea. Better not to force it, right?¡± Penn watched her carefully, trying to mirror however she chose to react. They wanted to follow her lead on this.

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s probably right. Ok. Ok, hey, it doesn¡¯t even really hurt. That¡¯s good.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s great!¡±

    Marilyn and Penn smiled at each other, each struggling to hold up the shared illusion of optimism, each more concerned for the other than themselves. Penn scrambled for something to say, anything, and came up with:

    ¡°Do you think you¡¯ll keep it?¡± They blushed at the absurdity of the question.

    ¡°Oh. I knew they were going to shed, but I never thought of that. I guess I¡¯m not sure. It feels strange throwing it away¡ª maybe a little sad? But holding onto something that¡¯s been such a challenge for me¡­ maybe a better person would find that inspiring.¡± Inspiring, she thought, rather than wretchedly painful.

    ¡°You¡¯re the best person I¡¯ve ever met,¡± Penn answered. It was the kind of thing they said all the time, but their tone was different now: serious, gentle, vulnerable. ¡°You don¡¯t have to decide anything right now,¡± they returned to normal.

    ¡°Maybe my mothers will want to keep it. They can put it with the baby teeth.¡±

    ¡°Your moms,¡± Penn remembered. ¡°They¡¯re waiting for us. Don¡¯t you think we should stop by a walk-in clinic? Just to make sure everything¡¯s ok. Your moms will understand.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s what they¡¯d tell me to do.¡± Marilyn gave a chuckle. ¡°I¡¯d probably scare them half to death showing up like this, anyway. But let me see if I can get in touch with Healer Fenton or one of her assistants. She knows my situation.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get us off the road. There¡¯s a cafe near here. You deserve a treat after all this.¡±

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Marilyn hardly heard Penn. Her right antler still lay across her lap, the end that had been attached to her head only a few moments ago white and disturbingly porous.

    The clinic answered after two rings. ¡°Good morning, you¡¯ve reached the Schoenberg Healing Clinic. This is Max speaking.¡±

    ¡°Good morning, Max.¡± Marilyn took a beat to put on her Good Patient Voice: calm, respectful, cheerful, and of course, never panicked. She gave her name and date of birth. ¡°I¡¯ve had a considerable development in a condition Healer Fenton is treating me for. Is she available to speak with me today?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s unlikely,¡± Max replied coolly as he pulled up her information. ¡°Our healers are very¡ª oh. I see Healer Fenton has taken a special interest in your case. One moment.¡±

    As Marilyn waited, Penn marveled at the change in her tone. She¡¯d gone from small and frightened to utterly composed in the space of a few moments. They hoped she felt as collected as she sounded, but truth be told, she didn¡¯t feel anything. She had to turn all of that off in order to appear treatable.

    ¡°Marilyn,¡± Healer Fenton greeted her. ¡°How are you today?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m well, thank you. How are you?¡±

    Fenton nodded, greatly satisfied with the answer. ¡°You¡¯re taking your recovery seriously. I can tell. What can I do for you?¡±

    ¡°One of my antlers broke off.¡±

    ¡°So soon!¡±

    ¡°I know you said this would happen, but it didn¡¯t shed by itself. I hit it on something. Accidentally, I mean, of course. I wouldn¡¯t do that on purpose.¡± Deliberately attempting to cut off one¡¯s antlers was a taboo far beyond having a large set. It was obvious, at that. Human antlers tended to warp and bulge as though tumorous when damaged. ¡°I just wanted to make sure this wasn¡¯t a problem.¡±

    ¡°Not in the least,¡± Fenton assured her. ¡°Stags shake theirs off- did you know that?¡±

    ¡°No. I guess I never thought about it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s true! The same antlers they use to fight one another shake loose when it¡¯s their time to go. It¡¯s the same here. I¡¯ve seen many injuries in my time, so believe me when I say that it would take a whole lot more than hitting yours to break it off if it wasn¡¯t ready.¡±

    ¡°So I¡¯m okay?¡± Marilyn asked, her calm facade wearing thin.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Keep up the good work. What are you doing right now?¡±

    ¡°Oh, um, nothing important.¡±

    Healer Fenton encouraged her, ¡°I¡¯m very interested in your progress. You¡¯re clearly doing something right, and other people like you could benefit greatly from knowing what. So, when your antler shed, I¡¯m sure that must have been alarming. You called me. Very sensible. What else are you doing?¡±

    ¡°We just got to a bakery. My friend is with me. They wanted to treat me to something nice, since this whole thing did scare me a little.¡± Marilyn flashed a weak smile at Penn, who gave her a thumbs up.

    ¡°Yes, I see. An informative moment. You let the negative emotion of fear get the better of you, which is natural for your temperament, but you¡¯ve learned to counter it by bringing in something positive. It sounds like your friend has been an extremely positive influence on you.¡±

    ¡°Incredibly,¡± Marilyn agreed.

    ¡°Make certain you give back. Your friend''s antlers must be of a more typical size, given their reaction here.¡±

    ¡°Y-yes?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll have the appropriate mindset in place for remaining mentally healthy, but you can¡¯t rely on them too much. The added emotional burden of combating your negative inclinations can begin to wear away at their positivity. We see it happen all the time. People with large antlers impact the size of those around them.¡±

    Marilyn¡¯s heart ached. She¡¯d only just noticed the other day that Penn¡¯s antlers had grown in recent months. It hadn¡¯t occurred to her that it might be her fault, and she felt wretchedly selfish for not realizing sooner.

    Fenton went on, ¡°In the end, you need to stand on your own two feet. And you can. You wouldn¡¯t have come this far otherwise. I promise you that. Now, go get your treat. You¡¯ve earned it.¡±

    ¡°Okay. I understand, Healer Fenton.¡± Marilyn¡¯s resolve set in. ¡°I can¡¯t thank you enough for all of your help. I¡¯m going to keep doing better.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯ll reap the rewards of it soon, dear. Take care.¡±

    Penn watched nervously as Marilyn hung up. The side of the conversation they¡¯d heard hadn''t sounded like bad news, but they didn''t like the shift in her tone.

    She turned to them with a bright smile and said, ¡°Everything¡¯s fine. Let¡¯s get something to eat.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°My treat.¡± Marilyn got out of the car and opened the back door to place her shed antler on the back seat.

    ¡°I can run in,¡± Penn offered. ¡°What would you like?¡±

    Marilyn knew the people inside would be horrified by her appearance, but she couldn¡¯t keep taking advantage of Penn. Her resolve, fueled by shame, demanded proving: she needed to go and face the worst that very moment.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go together,¡± Marilyn insisted. Head held high, she led the way to the charming pastel entryway of the cafe. She ignored her reflection in the glass and held the door open for Penn. It was easier fitting herself through the doorway with only half her normal span of antler prongs. Everything would be easier, she told herself, soon enough.

    A silence fell over the cafe as its customers and employees registered her presence. Though they were whispering, Marilyn had no trouble hearing the cashier ask their coworker to go get someone named Jocelyn.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± Marilyn sang out.

    Gary, the remaining cashier, twitched. Was this person for real? One antler gone, the other bigger than any he¡¯d ever seen in his life, and warped somehow- sharpened. What in the name of the goddess had she done to get to this grotesque state? A memory from fourth grade had him breaking into a cold sweat: the kids used to say that if you murdered someone, your antlers would turn into monstrous horns. Gary took a step back as she approached.

    Penn tried to smooth things over with a nervous, ¡°Beautiful day!¡± Gary hadn¡¯t even seen them, and blinked with bewilderment.

    Marilyn smiled at him. Speaking louder than necessary, she explained, ¡°We¡¯re here to celebrate my antlers shedding.¡±

    ¡°Sh¡­ shedding?¡±

    Jocelyn came on the scene from the back room, where the employee who¡¯d gone to get her still hid. She had wavy grey hair down to her waist, a strong build, a name tag that read MANAGER, and an air of confidence that Marilyn envied deeply.

    ¡°Shedding,¡± Marilyn pressed on. ¡°Because I¡¯m thinking so positively now. The healers say I won¡¯t have any left soon.¡±

    Jocelyn¡¯s crossed arms lowered as she looked on with growing surprise. ¡°My dad used to say that people closest to the goddess would lose their antlers. I thought it was a folk tale.¡±

    Trying not to show the guilt he felt over his initial reaction, Gary added, ¡°My grandma said the same thing.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure the goddess keeps us all close,¡± Marilyn paraphrased something she¡¯d read in one of the healing clinic waiting rooms. Gary and Jocelyn seemed more moved by this platitude than she¡¯d expected. ¡°May I have a pistachio croissant?¡±

    Jocelyn eased Gary out from behind the cash register with a nod toward the pastry case. She entered a code into the machine as he scooped a pair of tongs and a paper bag from under the counter. Gary placed one croissant in the bag, glanced without subtlety at Marilyn, and added two more.

    ¡°Oh,¡± she tried to stop him, but Jocelyn interrupted:

    ¡°Can we get you anything else?¡± Her eyes shone with admiration.

    ¡°Um, Penn, did you want anything?¡±

    Penn couldn¡¯t quite figure out what was happening or whether they should be a part of it, but they didn¡¯t want to turn down cookies. Particularly linzer cookies cut in the shape of little flowers. ¡°I¡¯ll take three of those, please,¡± they said, pointing.

    Gary swiftly picked up the glass filigree plate on which the linzer cookies were arranged, poured an untold wealth of them into a fresh bag, and placed both bags on the counter in front of Marilyn.

    ¡°Please,¡± Jocelyn said, pushing the bags a little closer to her.

    ¡°How much?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s on the house.¡±

    ¡°No, we couldn¡¯t! It¡¯s too much. Here, let me¡ª¡± Marilyn scrambled to get her wallet.

    ¡°Please,¡± Jocelyn repeated. ¡°Take this as thanks for bringing the goddess near to us.¡±

    Seeing that Marilyn was frozen on the spot, Penn gathered up the offerings and said, ¡°Thank you. We¡¯ll pay it forward. Have a great day.¡±

    Penn freed two fingers from holding the bags and tugged on Marilyn¡¯s shirt. She nodded and followed them out of the cafe with a look of astonishment.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Penn said as they climbed into the car. ¡°We probably should have tried a little harder to pay. But, was it just me? That was creepy! Right?¡±

    Marilyn hadn¡¯t landed on how to react to the scene, and she took Penn¡¯s laughter with gratitude. ¡°It was! I¡¯m so glad you said it!¡±

    ¡°I mean, it was really sweet of them to give us free treats,¡± Penn said through strained giggles. They handed the pastry bags to Marilyn. ¡°But wow! I thought they were about to start praying to you.¡±

    ¡°I knew it was going to be something, going in there, but I didn¡¯t expect that. Oh, Penn.¡± She still sounded amused, but spoke earnestly. ¡°I can¡¯t show up at my Mommas¡¯ house looking like this. I¡¯ll scare them half to death. I mean, they know my velvet is gone, and we can call ahead and all, but it¡¯s hard to see in person, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°You want to call them instead? I still have that enchanted mirror.¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s a better idea. I¡¯ll sit so you can¡¯t see the missing antler. That way we can prepare them for it first, you know?¡±

    Penn tapped the steering wheel. ¡°I get it. They¡¯ll understand, too, I¡¯m sure. Plus you should probably be taking it easy.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. I can see them in person after the other one sheds.¡± She handed Penn one of the linzer cookies.

    ¡°On to my place, then?¡±

    Marilyn made a vague sound of agreement. She had caught sight of her antler in the back seat, its shape utterly foreign to her in this strange new context; the image gave her a shiver she hid poorly with an exaggerated stretch of her arms.

 Chapter Six

    Croissant crumbs speckled the busy pattern of Marilyn¡¯s floral print shirt. She brushed them away just as Penn¡¯s enchanted mirror gave out the dim glow that indicated it had established a bond. Marilyn quadruple checked that her reflection, the image her mothers would see in their own mirror once the bond solidified, cut off in just the right place to hide her missing antler.

    Staring at herself made Marilyn uncomfortable. It brought to mind advice from Morris¡¯s pamphlets: Draw a smiley face on your bathroom mirror where your reflection should be. It¡¯s imperative for your morale that you don¡¯t look as bad as you feel. She snorted just as her image was replaced by that of Momma B and Momma G.

    ¡°Hi baby!¡± Momma B yelled.

    Momma G waved both hands, her bracelets rattling against each other. ¡°Hi!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s so good to see you!¡± Marilyn pressed her hands together in a small, hidden simulation of a hug. ¡°It¡¯s been too long.¡±

    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Momma B asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m ok! I promise! Actually, I have really good news.¡± In spite of this, Marilyn¡¯s stomach fluttered with nervous energy. ¡°Remember what I told you about my velvet shedding and what the healers said?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re doing so great, baby.¡±

    Momma G added, ¡°You look like a badass.¡± Her soft, sweet voice wrapped around the word badass was incredibly endearing.

    ¡°Aw haha, I doubt that! Okay, well, things are happening faster than I thought. The reason we had to cancel on you is¡­ One of my antlers shed this morning.¡±

    ¡°What!¡± The Mommas cried in unison.

    Marilyn tilted her head so that her missing antler would now be visible. She picked up her shed antler and held it high for them to see. Her mothers gasped; Momma B clapped and Momma G got so close to the mirror it looked as though she meant to climb through it.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t hurt?¡± Momma G asked, making every effort to tone down her worry. Her sweet Marilyn had had enough worry for three lifetimes.

    ¡°No, not at all.¡±

    Momma B pulled her wife back from the mirror gently. She, too, was taken aback, but she saw how badly Mari wanted this to be good news. She could give her daughter that much. ¡°We''re so proud of you.¡±

    Penn walked in with the cookies and croissants on a pink platter, cocking their head to ask whether it was okay to join. Relieved, Marilyn waved them over.

    ¡°Hi Mommas!¡± They stuffed their fifth cookie of the day into their mouth.

    Marilyn¡¯s mothers fawned over Penn long enough for her to regain her footing. Telling them hadn¡¯t been as hard as she¡¯d feared, but the nervous energy remained. She said, ¡°I¡¯ll come to see you for real very soon. I just needed a little rest today.¡± Though that hadn¡¯t originally been the reason, it was certainly true enough.

    Momma B assured her, ¡°You take all the time you need. We¡¯re not going anywhere.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Momma G laughed, ¡°we are, but that¡¯s just for a week.¡±

    ¡°How fun!¡± Marilyn asked, ¡°Are you taking a trip?¡±

    ¡°Did we forget to tell you?¡± Momma G wrapped an arm around Momma B. ¡°Tomorrow¡¯s the thirty-fifth anniversary of Bella asking me out. We¡¯re going camping.¡±

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°I hope you have a wonderful time!¡± Marilyn ran a hand through her hair in a bid to subtly check her antler stump. Still there, still painless, nothing changing or growing back. There was every chance her other antler would be gone by the time her moms got back from camping.

    It would be the topic of every conversation for a while, as her antlers and her health had always been. But what about after? When she called or visited her moms, wouldn¡¯t they ask her how she¡¯d been without looking afraid they knew the answer? And then they¡¯d talk about something else. Marilyn hardly knew what people talked about anymore when they weren¡¯t navigating minefields of bad news, insufficient words of comfort, and half-believed hopes for the future.

    Momma B might share her new recipes and Momma G could show off her latest thrift store find. Maybe they¡¯d ask her what kind of art she¡¯d been working on, and who knew¡ª maybe Marilyn would have an answer.

    Her art. She¡¯d made nothing since graduating. Her antlers, she found, had set certain expectations. People wanted her to make art about the struggle of living with them, or about defiant optimism in spite of them, or about taboo acceptance of them. Anything, everything about them.

    Marilyn wanted to paint nature. Foxes calling to their families in the dusk. Sweet ferns climbing low hills in the dawn. Shelf fungi on fallen trees. She wanted to love the world around her without overhearing, ¡°She¡¯s practically an animal herself!¡±

    ¡°You should get some rest, baby,¡± Momma B brought her back to the moment.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry! I¡¯m fine, I just lost track of my thoughts for a second.¡±

    Penn put a gentle hand on her shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s not a bad idea.¡±

    Marilyn gave a pained smile, nodded, and promised, ¡°I¡¯ll see you when you get back.¡±

    They exchanged all of their love-yous and well wishes as Penn began piling throw blankets on the sofa. When the mirror blinked back to a reflective surface, Marilyn admitted to herself that a nap was all she wanted in the world.

    ¡°Stay with me?¡± Penn asked, as though she would be the one doing them a favor.

    ¡°I won¡¯t be in your way?¡±

    ¡°Never. Anyway, I have some research to do, and you know I can¡¯t read alone to save my life.¡±

    ¡°Research?¡±

    With an embarrassed smile, Penn told her, ¡°I think I know what my next project might be. Um, I hope this isn¡¯t too weird¡­¡±

    She waited out the silence and the flush in their cheeks, captivated by Penn¡¯s sudden reticence. They hadn¡¯t been emotionally invested enough in an art piece to be bashful about it in years.

    They said, ¡°I wanted to try to make something with your antler, if you¡¯ll let me.¡± Penn covered their face with both hands. They''d wanted to sound supportive and sweet, but felt mortified with worry that they''d crossed a line. ¡°Goddess, this is too weird, what am I saying?¡±

    ¡°I love that idea!¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Penn met her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re not just saying that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all yours.¡± Marilyn settled in among the many layers of blanket on Penn¡¯s couch. ¡°You can have the other one when it sheds, too. I can¡¯t think of a better way to let them go.¡±

    Spreading a final blanket over her, Penn said, ¡°I¡¯ll take good care of it. Promise.¡±

    ***

    Marilyn stirred in the dark, trying to make sense of when and where she was. The leaf-shaped pillow under her head reminded her: she¡¯d fallen asleep at Penn¡¯s house. A jolt of panic pushed her away from the pillow. Worried she¡¯d accidentally torn it with her antlers, Marilyn grabbed a nearby nightlight charm and inspected her surroundings. No harm done. She hadn¡¯t been sleeping on her antler side, of course. As her mind caught up with her, she remembered thinking how much easier it had been to make herself comfortable without shifting every which way to account for her antler. Marilyn leaned back into the couch with relief.

    She let herself wonder what other inconveniences she would soon leave behind. She¡¯d never struggle to get through doorways; people would trust her, be kind to her, let her be kind to them; without any antlers at all, people might assume she wasn¡¯t even a child of the Stagmother, but a visitor from elsewhere. A stranger.

    One day, she wouldn¡¯t even remember how things used to be. She¡¯d keep studying and working hard, maybe find a job at a specialized disenchantment studio. She could move out of the mildewy basement and get a nice apartment closer to Penn. They¡¯d visit museums and coffee shops and bookstores together. She would paint wild hares while Penn carved statuettes. Dating had never really appealed to Marilyn, anyway, but the option would certainly be more open to her if the interest ever developed. Mostly she just wanted to live in a warm, dry home, eat pleasant foods, and spend time with friends.

    She got up from the couch and stepped quietly over to the enchanted mirror. This time, she positioned herself so that her remaining antler was out of sight.

    This was her. The person she would become.

    It hardly looked like Marilyn at all.

 Chapter Seven

    The weekend passed in a haze of napping, snacking, sleeping, and trying to stay awake long enough to enjoy at least a little of her time off. Marilyn woke Monday morning in her own bed, hardly remembering when she managed to get herself home, with considerable doubts she¡¯d make it through a full work day.

    One step at a time, Marilyn told herself. She was almost through it. Getting dressed, she briefly considered fashioning a sign to pin to her button-up: It¡¯s fine, my antlers are shedding. The way those cafe workers had reacted to her when they learned what was happening, the outright reverence, wasn¡¯t what she wanted, but it would certainly beat dodging stares. She waved off the thought.

    With a deep steadying breath, Marilyn stepped out into the world. She made it to the crosswalk less than half a block away before her first encounter.

    ¡°Sorry!¡± The older woman she¡¯d caught staring, open-mouthed, looked away. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡± She pushed the crosswalk button and waited for the light to change. Her own antlers were grown to an unusual size- not like Marilyn¡¯s, but certainly above average.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. They¡¯re just shedding.¡± She projected her voice in case anyone else was listening.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen that since my great grandmother some sixty years ago.¡±

    Excited to hear someone else had been through this, Marilyn started to ask more, but the woman went on first:

    ¡°Have the healers done all they can, dear?¡±

    Her heart fluttered. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Foxborough Fade, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been to the healers,¡± Marilyn said, struggling to maintain her polite and positive tone. ¡°It was nothing but good news.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m upsetting you. Goddess forgive me for prying, but have you been sleeping too much? They used to call it the dreamer¡¯s disease.¡±

    The light had long since changed, but Marilyn had forgotten about getting to work altogether. ¡°They gave me a clean bill of health,¡± she reiterated weakly.

    The woman took out a notepad and pen, her grandmother¡¯s torn and bleeding antlers flashing through her mind. The younger generations never knew how bad it used to be. Before the right adjustments had been to the healing spells, before the Fade went from fatal to treatable in a single afternoon. It was too negative to discuss. ¡°I hope I¡¯m scaring you for no good reason.¡± She started writing. ¡°The healers aren¡¯t always as good at their jobs when it comes to people with bigger antlers. I know a clinic that will actually help you.¡±

    ¡°But I was making progress.¡± Marilyn watched the woman tear a page from her notepad and offer it. ¡°I¡¯m doing so well.¡±

    ¡°Do you feel well?¡±

    Blinking through tears, Marilyn accepted the paper.

    ¡°You don¡¯t even need an appointment.¡± The woman took one of Marilyn¡¯s hands in both of hers and inwardly prayed for mercy. ¡°Stagmother be with you.¡± Before Marilyn could gather herself enough to say anything else, she was gone.

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    The short walk back to her apartment seemed to span a lifetime. Marilyn took out her phone, hesitated, and finally called Healer Fenton as she unlocked her door. The dance with reception and the wait for Fenton to pick up gave her time to get inside, take off her shoes, and lie down on her bloodstained bed.

    ¡°Good morning, Marilyn,¡± Fenton greeted her. ¡°I hope we have more good news today.¡±

    Though she told herself to begin with a formal greeting, Marilyn blurted out, ¡°Am I sick?¡±

    Fenton assured her, ¡°I know it¡¯s been hard. It won¡¯t be too much longer now. You¡¯re so close to getting through it.¡±

    ¡°So the scan came back completely clean?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s brought this¡ª¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have Foxborough Fade?¡±

    Fenton cleared her throat; she wondered if Marilyn had gone to another healer, wondered who had undermined her hard work to help this young woman. ¡°It¡¯s only in the beginning stages,¡± she answered evenly.

    Marilyn hung up the phone. Her emotions emptied out of her entirely, too big for her to contain. She called Penn.

    ¡°Mariiiiiiiiiiii!¡±

    ¡°Are you free today? Can I ask a favor?¡± In a moment of surreal detachment from herself, she noticed that her voice didn¡¯t even sound upset.

    ¡°Oh heck yes. Great timing. I have a surprise for you! Are you coming to me, or am I coming to you?¡±

    ¡°Pick me up?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m on my way.¡±

    Marilyn closed her eyes and waited.

    ***

    Her remaining antler gradually grew warm as she lay there. The goddess drew as near as she was able in her separate realm. She dared not send her comfort yet, tinged as it was with fury, but simply made herself a presence amidst Marilyn¡¯s suffering. For her part, Marilyn had yet to consciously reach the pain welling up inside of her, but the sense of not being alone did make its way through.

    Penn knocked on her door.

    Getting out of bed for the second time proved far more difficult than the first. Each protest from her body now came with a secondary shock of fear now that she knew, finally and for certain, that there was something wrong with her. When she opened her door, she met Penn¡¯s enthusiastic grin with a distraught grimace.

    ¡°Oh, Marilyn,¡± Penn whispered, dropping their good cheer. They moved to her side, sliding her arm across their shoulders and holding her up. ¡°We need to get you to a healer.¡±

    Marilyn pressed the paper the old woman had given her into Penn¡¯s hand. ¡°Can you take me here?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to go to the one you¡¯ve been seeing?¡±

    The first emotion to return to her, anger, greatly pleased the goddess. ¡°She lied to me. Take me here. They might actually help me.¡±

    Penn didn¡¯t argue. They shuffled her along to their car, helped her into the front passenger seat, and glanced at the backseat. It hardly seemed like the time for gifts. They didn¡¯t mention it.

    Once Penn got the car on the road, they asked, ¡°Can you tell me what¡¯s happening?¡±

    ¡°Foxborough Fade,¡± she whispered.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s great. Right? Any healer can fix that.¡±

    ¡°Any healer that actually wants to.¡± She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window. ¡°I think I need to change the subject.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Yeah, sure. Have you eaten today?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a cinnamon bun in the glove compartment.¡±

    Marilyn laughed, ¡°Of course there is,¡± and the affection she felt for Penn in that moment brought tears to her eyes. She took them up on the offer and nibbled appreciatively on the cinnamon bun. Resting against the window once more, she asked Penn, ¡°Do you think it¡¯s okay to think some negative thoughts right now?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m pretty sure you get a pass today.¡±

    ¡°I have this feeling like something awful is coming. I don¡¯t know. Maybe that¡¯s just one of the symptoms of Foxborough Fade.¡±

    ¡°Everything¡¯s going to be okay now,¡± Penn comforted her. ¡°You¡¯re doing the right thing going to a new clinic. They¡¯ll heal you, and you can come back to my place to recover. I have a new tea blend I think you¡¯re really going to like. It¡¯s peppermint with dehydrated blueberries.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± Marilyn muttered, already half asleep.

    ¡°For what?¡±

    ¡°Everything. Your antlers¡­ they¡¯ve grown¡­ I know it¡¯s my fault.¡±

    Penn wasn¡¯t entirely sure she was still awake at this point. ¡°Everything I¡¯ve ever thought because of you has made me a better person. I don¡¯t care if it was positive or negative.¡± A thrill of fear ran through them as they said this, as though the wrong person might somehow overhear, but even Marilyn had missed it. If only to defy their own timidity, they said again, ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±