by S. L. Stacy
Godslayer: The only weapon the blacksmith Hephaestus ever crafted that could kill an Olympian. Those who possessed it never lost a battle. The sword was lost sometime during the Cyclopes Wars and has not been seen since.
The Olympians seem to be in the habit of losing track of very dangerous items. I study the drawing some more, the red ink standing out against the black, white and yellowed pages like a splash of blood. For some reason, the thought makes me shiver.
“You’re back.”
I jump at the sound of Victoria’s voice, accidentally letting the ritual book close and losing my place. My roommate comes in, toting another leather-bound, ancient-looking book.
“How was your test?” she asks me, dropping the book on her desk. It lands with a thump, sending up a cloud of dust.
“Could have been better,” I tell her, throwing the ritual book on my bed.
“Sorry to hear that.” Her eyes go to my bed. “What were you looking for in there?”
“Nothing.” I shrug. “Just bored.” After what she said this morning about not going after Siobhan, I don’t really feel like getting into it.
If Victoria suspects I was looking for more than “nothing” in the ritual book, she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she says, “That’s a beautiful rose. Someone has a secret admirer,” she adds in a singsong voice. “Who’s it from?”
“Not sure,” I admit. “There wasn’t a note.”
“Maybe it’s from Alec.”
I shake my head. “I doubt it. Actually, I was thinking it could be from…never mind. It’s impossible.”
“I didn’t know you were seeing someone else,” she says, sounding hurt at the notion of not being properly updated about my love life.
“I’m not. I wasn’t. Not really.”
I can almost see the proverbial lightbulb going off in Victoria’s head when she says, “You’re talking about Dolos. He’s not exactly relationship material, Carly.”
“I said I wasn’t seeing anyone. It’s just…we didn’t have anyone but each other in Pandora. We sort of grew close. Can you really blame us?”
“No, but Carly—”
“I know, I know. He and Apate are back home on Olympus, and I’m here. I’m never going to see him again.”
“Well, not exactly. The part about them being home, I mean.”
“He’s—they’re not? Then where are they?” I try to ask it casually, hoping Victoria misses the note of eagerness in my voice.
She cringes. “They were supposed to go back to Olympus, but it seems no one knows where they are. They tricked us. Surprise, surprise,” she adds under her breath.
He is not gone, Madam Moira had reassured me when I told her Dolos left me. He’s just in hiding. It seems at least some of what she said is turning out to be true. “But that means—”
“Don’t get your hopes up. Even if he was here, he and his sister are on the run. He’s not going to turn up again anytime soon.”
“Why would they be on the run? You said the council was going to forgive their crimes.”
Victoria purses her lips, clearly wishing she hadn’t said so much. “That’s what we thought. At least, Athena and I did. My mother and the rest of the Elder Council had other plans. When—if they’re found, Apate and Dolos are going to be punished for treason.”
“What’s the punishment for treason?” I almost don’t want to know.
My roommate hesitates before telling me. “Death.”
“Death?” I gasp, feeling sick to my stomach. “That’s a little extreme. I mean, maybe Apate deserves it, but not Dolos. He was a victim!”
“I know, and I agree with you,” Victoria says quickly. “I would even argue a lesser sentence for Apate, since she was only trying to protect her brother. But I’m not on the council. With the threat of war, they’re cracking down.”
“Then I’m glad they’re on the run.” I look back at the rose, mostly so Victoria won’t catch the tear rolling down my cheek. “I hope the council doesn’t find them.” I can’t tell from her silence whether she agrees with me or not, although from what she just said about Apate, I would assume she does.
The rose must be Dolos’s way of letting me know he’s okay, I decide. I’m grateful for the message, but I hope he’s smart enough to stay away. If Victoria’s right about the way Farrah and most of the council members feel, I don’t want to be the reason they find out where he is. He shouldn’t be punished for a crime he didn’t commit. He’s already been through enough in his life.
When they were children, Dolos’s mother imprisoned him and his siblings in Pandora because she thought they were evil. They might have never gotten out if it wasn’t for a human girl who stumbled upon a way in and was able to free them. With a childhood like that, you’d think the Elders would take pity on them, but apparently not.
If his safety means that I never get to see him again, then so be it.
But another part of me—the selfish part—would do almost anything to see him. To feel the gentle, urgent press of his lips against mine, the warm tingle of his fingers against my skin. If we do get a second chance someday, I’m not holding anything back. I’m going to make the most of it, even if we only had one night together. As I learned in Pandora, it only takes a moment for time to be snatched away from you. Every second is precious.
“Something happened after my exam,” I tell Victoria, desperately needing a change of topic. “I ran into Jasper. He was asking about Siobhan.”
“I…see,” Victoria says slowly, looking surprised. “Well, what did you tell him?”
“The truth,” I admit sheepishly. “I told him about Siobhan, and about the curse.”
“Carly!” she groans. “It’s always the quiet ones. You never speak up unless it’s to spill all of our secrets to the bad guys.”
“He already had a feeling something bad had happened to her. And we’re not going to be able to hide the fact that we have an aviary in our living room much longer,” I point out. “I think he deserved to know what was going on and what we’re planning to do about it, at least as far as Siobhan is concerned. Maybe he’ll be able to help us. We could use it. Plus, he’s been avoiding Eric, and he had no idea what the Sigma Iotas were up to last night. I don’t think he’s going to go to them with anything. He was just worried about his girlfriend.” I add this last part just as much for my own reassurance as for hers.
Victoria taps her cheek with a finger, weighing all of this in her mind. “You might be right. He did help us out at the Panhel hearing. Well, I’m not going to worry about it unless it becomes absolutely necessary. If he wants to help us out, he knows where to find us. I just hope he doesn’t try to do anything by himself. He’s so reckless. Anyway.” Victoria opens the book she brought, and I let her go on without bringing up Jasper’s final declaration. “I might be closing in on something.”
“You found an antidote?” I ask her, feeling hopeful.
“Well…no. But at least this book has a section on transformations.” She settles back in her chair, balancing the book on her lap. “It says here that, to transform into another living thing, you have to drink a moonshade elixir. You crush moonshade leaves and dissolve them in a little bit of ambrosia mixed with…blood from the person or animal you want to change into.” She glances up at me, making a face.
“Ew,” I agree. “That sounds like some vampire crap.”
Her eyes return to the text. “The mixture can be taken straight, but is bitter to the taste. Many choose to add it to a more palatable drink or food to make it easier to take, or to disguise moonshade’s distinct flavor.”
“For when you’re trying to trick an entire sorority into taking it. Sorry,” I say when Victoria looks up at me again. “Go on.”
“Actually,” she says, scanning the page, “that’s pretty much all it says.”
“That’s it?”
“There could be something else later on. I have a lot more reading to do. But not right now.” She closes the book, drumming he
r fingers on its weathered cover. “What are you up to tonight?”
“I have a hot date,” I say with an eye roll. “Nothing.”
“Good. I know someone who might be able to help us out with this whole antidote thing.” Victoria’s tone tells me it’s a long shot, but we’re running out of options. “We’re paying him a little visit. I mean, if you’re up for it.”
I nod. “I’m in. So, who is this guy?”
“My ex-partner.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Pre-Athena?”
“Not that kind of partner. When the Elder Council first suspected something was amiss on Earth, they sent us over here to scout it out. Only my partner got a little…distracted. He ditched me.”
“And you think he’ll want to help us now because…?” I let the question hang, not following her logic.
“It’s not that he’s a bad guy. He just cares more about play than work.”
“You know what they say. Work hard, play hard.”
“His motto is more…play hard, then play some more, and shirk all responsibility. But this should be right up his alley. Even if he doesn’t know the antidote himself, he may be able to point us in the right direction. He has a lot of connections.”
“Sounds good. Where to?” I wonder, standing.
“Shadesburg University,” Victoria says, also getting to her feet. “Greek Row.”
***
“Is it this one?” I ask Victoria as we cruise slowly down Applewood Lane, known to Shadesburg University students as Greek Row. I have to admit I’m a little jealous their fraternities and sororities live off-campus in spacious, colonial-style homes. They line either side of the road, uniform and perfect, each with the same white siding, dark blue shutters, and wrap-around porch surrounded by columns. The lawns are also large and well-maintained, the gardens orange and gold with fall-blooming flowers. In comparison, the Gamma Lambda Phi house looks like a shack. The neighborhood is quiet for the most part, the thump of dance music in the distance the only sign of life.
I see Victoria shake her head out of the corner of my eye. “Keep going.”
“What about that one?” I say hopefully as we pass a house with colorful, stained glass Greek letters in the window and a porch filled with autumn-themed decorations. There’s even a pie cooling on the porch table.
“Nope,” Victoria says, sighing as though she wished it were. She points a few houses down. “It’s the house on the end.”
“The one where the music’s coming from?”
She nods. “There’s a space. Pull up over here.” I park in front of a house with a few broken windows, peeling paint, and wicker porch furniture that has definitely seen better days. The Greek letters “ΔΙΚ” are scrawled in magic marker on a piece of paper taped to one of the windows.
“Delta Iota Kappa,” I read out loud as we get out of the car. I give their initials some further thought. “Wait a minute. So they’re…”
“DIK,” Victoria finishes for me, rolling her eyes.
“But they don’t actually call themselves that. Right?” Victoria doesn’t answer me as we walk up to the house.
The music is coming from their second story balcony, where some of the fraternity brothers are stretched out on lawn chairs, having beers. More people are congregated on the front lawn, wearing white sheets like togas and drinking out of red Solo cups. Some of them are simply standing around, talking, others are dancing, still others are engaged in extreme public displays of affection. Someone has even set up a lopsided net for a drunken game of volleyball.
“Talk about playing hard,” I mutter, feeling out of place as we make our way to the house. “It’s a weeknight.”
Victoria shrugs. “It’s a party school.” We take our time ascending the crumbling porch stairs, which creak ominously with every step. Almost as soon as we’ve cleared them, a tall, wiry young man jumps in front of us, barring our way to the door.
“Halt!” he says, thrusting his hand, palm out, toward us. “Who seeks entry into the sacred house of Delta Iota Kappa?”
My roommate crosses her arms, an amused lift to her eyebrows. “Victoria and Carly,” she says, humoring him, “of the esteemed house of Gamma Lambda Phi.” At the mention of our sorority’s name, his eyes grow wide, face as white as the bed sheet draped over his slender frame. “Now, let us in.”
He flattens himself against the door, shaking his head vigorously. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”
“Oh, come on. You’re having a party. What’s a few more guests?”
“I can’t let you in without the…” He trails off, racking his brain for a reasonable excuse. “Proper attire?” he finishes, voice going up slightly at the end almost like it’s a question.
“Too bad I left my toga at home,” Victoria says with a rueful snap of her fingers. Thinking he’s successfully turned us away, the guard relaxes a bit, crying out a moment later when Victoria picks him up by the shoulders. Setting him aside, she pulls open the door, gesturing for me to go in first.
“Hey! You can’t just go in there,” he says, panic in his voice. He runs past us, shouting into the house, “Dion! Dion! We have trespassers!” A couple devouring each other on the couch look up at the commotion, regarding us curiously before returning to their make out session.
“We’re not trespassing,” my roommate insists, sounding fed up. “Your president and I go way back. Now, where is your fearless leader?” she asks no one in particular, eyes scanning the living room. She walks up to a second couple making out on a recliner, trying to see the guy’s face. “Dionysus?”
“Nike?” A man’s deep voice calls her Olympian name from the next room. “Is that your sweet, lilting voice I hear? Pledges, up!” The order is followed by the sounds of furniture scraping against the hardwood floor and a chorus of male grunts. Four skinny freshmen come hobbling through the doorway, lugging a gold-framed chair with scarlet cushions. Lounging in it is a mass of long, well-muscled limbs attached to a man with curly blonde hair and a complexion like a bronze statue.
“Pledges, down!” he bellows, and the four boys gladly drop the chair directly in front of us before crawling away, trying to catch their breath. The man I presume is Dionysus stands up, opening his arms to give Victoria a hug.
“Nike! It’s so good to see you. You look…pissed off,” he realizes, taking a step back, arms falling. Like his brothers, he’s wearing a makeshift toga, only his is pulled tightly across a broad chest, exposing the corded muscle of his abdomen.
She gives him an exasperated look. “Of course I am. You’re hazing your pledges!”
“You call it ‘hazing,’” he says, making air quotes, “I call it building character. Besides, they like helping out around the house.”
“If that were true, there are a lot of other things they could be helping out with.” As she says it, Victoria stoops to pick up an empty beer can from the floor and sets it on the table, next to a takeout container that looks like it’s been sitting out for a few days. “This place is a mess. But in any case, they’re not supposed to be catering to your every whim. They’re your new members, not your servants.”
“Hey, you don’t get to come over here, uninvited, and insult our way of doing things,” Dionysus tells her, crossing his arms. He doesn’t sound truly angry, just mildly annoyed. “Sure, we could clean up a bit, but the house is fine.”
Victoria’s eyebrows go up. “It’s literally falling apart. But I suppose you’ve been too busy partying to notice.”
“We’re fine,” he insists. “Everything’s fine! And the pledges couldn’t be happier.” A quick glance at the four who carried him in here, still panting and glaring at their president, tells me this probably isn’t the case. “They live to serve me—I mean, the house,” he corrects himself when Victoria’s jaw twitches angrily. He gives a nervous chuckle before turning to me instead. “I see you have a new toy.”
“What? No,” Victoria says quickly, realizing he’s talking about me. “This is Carly. She�
�s one of the Gamma Lambda Phi sisters.”
“Ohhhh.” Eyes the color of gold rum look me up and down as he nods his approval. “Can I play with her, then?” After a moment’s pause, he bursts out laughing, slapping his leg. “I’m just kidding! You should see the looks on your faces. Priceless! It’s nice to meet you, Carly.” He sticks out a hand. “Welcome to Delta Iota Kappa.”
I hesitate, then give his hand a brief shake. “Thanks.”
“So,” he continues, re-crossing his arms, “tell me a little bit about yourself, Carly.”
“Well, I…go to Thurston. I’m a math major. I’m in Gamma Lambda Phi…but Victoria just told you that,” I recall, feeling myself blush. “That’s pretty much it.”
His face spasms like he’s trying to hold back a yawn. “Fascinating. Anyone want a drink?” he asks abruptly, picking up a bottle of vodka from the table. He notices it’s empty and frowns. “I think I need a drink.”
“We didn’t come here to party,” Victoria says, taking the bottle from him and putting it back. “We need some information. Is there somewhere we can go that’s more private?”
He forces a smile. “Of course. Follow me.”
Dionysus leads us down a long, winding staircase, which seems to reach much further under the house than I would have expected. A cold draft rises up from the basement below, covering my arms with goosebumps. When we get to the bottom, he yanks on a string overhead, and a light bulb gives an electrical wheeze as it blinks on. Its yellow light reveals a gray stone floor and walls lined with wooden storage units, filled to capacity with bottle after bottle of wine.
“This seems excessive,” I say under my breath, watching him cross to the other end of the room and wave his fingers above a row of bottles, finally deciding on one and pulling it carefully from its slot. “I don’t think he’s going to know about any antidote, unless it’s an alcoholic one,” I whisper to Victoria.
“He might surprise you,” she tells me. I shrug doubtfully. “Dionysus, we’ve come to you tonight regarding an urgent matter—”