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Matchmaker(continued) "He's right, you know." The demon of insomnia grinned at her from its perch. "You're going crazy." She turned away from it but could not sleep. When she arrived at work the next day, Dana and Lindsey remained a grain spirit and a mermaid. "Jonathan is so talented," said Dana. "I'm going to help promote his poetry." "Scott has a boat," said Lindsey, "and I never thought I'd be interested in the ocean, but now it's all I can think of." Marissa was about to congratulate them when the phone rang. Her stomach dropping, she listened to the anger in her boss's voice. "I want to see you in my office," he said. Stepping inside, she watched his face turn bulbous and coarse-skinned, and tried not to think of the animal he reminded her of. His bushy eyebrows lowered and met over a squat snout. "Your numbers are down, your productivity is nonexistent. I expected more from a college graduate. What's your explanation?" Yellow tusks gnashed at his lips. Marissa remembered the animal. "Warthog!" she blurted. She slapped a hand over her mouth, horrified. "You're fired!" he bellowed. Dana and Lindsey tried to console her while she cleaned out her desk, but Marissa felt too exhausted and worried to respond. Thinking about her own business was one thing — starting it was another. She didn't feel prepared. Just crazy. On her way out, as she clutched her cardboard box, Marissa heard Tammy whisper, "Don't worry, someone will help you." Marissa looked at the receptionist. A nun's wimple covered the bleached-blond hair and a serene light bathed the face without makeup. Now I've seen everything, she thought. But out on the street, Marissa saw more. Teenage fairies and Mongolian warriors roamed the streets, their laughter loud and wild. Two were-squirrels chattered about their diets, their hairdressers, and their ungrateful children, while a sphinx frowned at a siren who sang about her latest conquest to a mad hatter. A vampire lurked in the shadowed alley. It's too much, she thought in dismay. I can't live like this. The voices grew louder in her ears, a series of squawks, whistles, tweets, snorts, and bellows, human words turning into strange languages. In desperation, she searched for the monk for more insight but a were-snake sat in his place on the bench outside the café. "Yesss," he hissed into his cell phone, his tongue flickering. "That sssoundsss like an exccccellent plan." Marissa's knees weakened as a faint came over her. But a strong hand gripped her arm. "Excuse me, are you all right?" said a voice with a Irish lilt. A tall man with broad shoulders, dressed in a fawn-colored shirt and breeches, stood before her. His long, dark blond hair framed a tanned face from which white teeth shone in a good-humored smile. Tattoos of runes and knotwork decorated his thick biceps. Behind him, a black motorcycle gleamed. "I feel strange," she moaned. "I would expect that, now that you're seeing people's true faces. Takes some getting used to, but you'll be all right." He gestured at the bike. "Climb on. I'll take you to a place where you can rest." Marissa held onto him as he kicked the Harley into life and closed her eyes as he drove on, not wanting to see any more. "You can look now," he said. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a house inside a vast tree. Stout branches with robust green leaves supported the wide floor. As the man placed a pillow under her back, she noticed something familiar about his face. "You're Ron!" He laughed. "The name's Arawn, actually. A witch placed a spell on me because I was late for our date. A lively lass, but strict on punctuality. So I had to live as the human Ron until someone saw my true nature." His deep blue eyes sparkled. "And that was you." "But what are you?" "A fix-it god, a handyman. I offer my service to the great matchmaker," he replied with a bow. She covered her face with her hands. "I don't want this ability anymore. It's too much information." "You've proven to the gods in the Pantheon that you can wield your power wisely. We awaken powers only in the true hearts." He pulled a blanket over her. "You've earned your place with us." Marissa looked at him. "But if I sleep, maybe the power will go away. Then I'll be just me again. Unemployed me." Arawn shook his head. "No, the power to see the truth is yours. It always was." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. She lay back against the pillow, eyelids growing heavy, her mind relaxing into a place of peace. The angel of sleep appeared and smiled. The last thing Marissa saw was the full, shining moon above her, reflecting
back the radiant face of a goddess.
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