by S. L. Stacy
Farrah flashes a cold but pleased smile. “Very good.”
“We’re not going to surrender.” The young man who called Farrah “Barbie” starts forward, mouth set in a stubborn line. “We’re going to finish the ritual and invade your world—or die trying.”
“For who? Your master?” Our house mother gives an airy laugh, sounding strangely unconcerned. Extending a slender, tan arm, she points up toward the very top of the canyon. Two distant, dark figures are racing along it, hand-in-hand. A moment later, they disappear, seemingly into midair. More likely, they’ve gone back through the rift.
“He’s already gone,” she continues. “Saving his own skin, while you continue to stand here, practically begging to be martyrs. Well, I’m more than happy to sate those desires.” The humor is gone from her voice, the abrupt change in temperament drawing black storm clouds over the canyon, blotting out the last rays of light from the setting sun. A bone-chilling wind blasts through the valley, stirring up loose rocks and dust. “Carly. The sword.” Farrah thrusts an expectant hand in my direction.
“What?” My hand goes to the sword hilt, more out of a sudden need to protect it than any intention of actually giving it to her.
Farrah issues the command again, voice lowered but still firm. “Carly, please give me the sword. It is time to end this, once and for all.”
“I agree,” I insist, walking over to her, “but no one has to die.” Farrah’s pale eyebrows lift, but she waits for me to continue. “It’s the jewelry. Eric is controlling them through the jewelry, making them do these horrible things. But underneath, they’re still themselves.”
“It’s true.” I jump, glancing up at the sound of Rae’s voice. She takes a few steps closer to us, but keeps a respectful distance between herself and Farrah. Cheeks dry, she appears to have recovered from the initial shock of being released from Eric’s control. “Carly broke the necklace Eric gave me. I feel like myself again. I know the others will, too, once you free them. Please. None of them are doing things they’d ever do under normal circumstances. We didn’t really understand what we were getting into. If we had, we wouldn’t have signed on.”
Farrah looks between me and Rae a few times before her eyes finally settle on me, still skeptical. “Are you sure? If you’re not, it may make us vulnerable. This is their first attempt to invade, but it won’t be the last. We must do everything we can to stop them, Carly.”
“I understand that,” I assure her. “Really, I do. And, if they were so far gone we couldn’t restore their true selves, I would agree with you. But they’re not. They can be saved.” I hold her gaze steady, willing her to understand. To do the right thing.
Taking a deep breath, Farrah turns toward the crowded battlefield again, seeming to try to reconcile what Rae and I have just told her with what she sees in front of her. As her anger subsides, the wind dies down, the storm clouds scattering.
“Hephaestus.” At last she speaks, addressing her husband without taking her eyes off our enemy. “Would you do the honors?”
“Of course.” Hephaestus, who has been standing off to the side, holding up a limp, half-conscious Victoria with one arm, shuffles forward on his gold cane. After passing her carefully to Athena, he comes to stand next to his wife. He raises his cane, drawing an arc with it through the air. All over the valley, people give starts of surprise as necklaces detach from necks and pins yank free of clothing. The pieces of jewelry drop to the ground, glimmering like tiny shooting stars on the way down. They melt upon impact, small puddles of gold giving off a faint yellowish smoke.
The girl Tanya was fighting earlier rubs at her neck, looking around as though she’s just woken up from a terrible dream. “What happened? Where am I?”
Just like with Rae, confusion turns to horror as the former members of Eric’s army start to remember exactly where they are, what has happened and what they’ve done. Some fall to their knees, sobbing into their hands, while others look too shocked to speak or move. For a majority of the army, the reactions seem genuine, and I breathe a sigh of relief that Farrah heeded my advice and we were able to save them.
But for a stony-faced few, like Brian, I can tell this is an unwelcome development. Unlike most of their comrades, they probably knew what they were getting into and wanted to be a part of it. They didn’t want to be “free” of anything.
“Watch Brian,” I whisper to Farrah, at the same time lowering the force field surrounding the others. The battle is over, at least for now. She nods once to let me know she’s heard me.
“Gather your wounded,” she says, issuing one final command as she turns in a swirl of rose pink skirts, “and come with us.”
Chapter 22
The journey back was mercifully uneventful.
By the time we returned Earth-side of the rift, many of the unconscious on both sides were coming around, still in excruciating pain, but alive. Probably the biggest perk of being a halfling is our resiliency. We can survive getting shot, stabbed (well, with the exception of Godslayer), having our necks snapped or parts of our body amputated. Although, from their pallid complexions, some of the wounded looked like they wished they were dead.
So, the death toll of our first major battle—excluding any deaths that occurred earlier tonight—was zero.
Farrah and the others had left some first aid supplies outside of the rift, which were immediately distributed upon our return. She even gave some bandages and special, Olympian made salves—nothing you could find at Walgreens or CVS—to the members of Eric’s army. Although they were back to their normal selves, finally free of Eric’s mind control, most of them still looked perplexed at the kindness we were showing them. But many also showered us with gratitude and tried to pay it forward by helping those on either side with the worst injuries.
Eventually, we had to break off into smaller groups—it would look more than a little suspicious, not to mention just plain weird, if all of us trooped out of the woods together, as bloodied and bedraggled as we were—to start the trek back to the city. I know Farrah felt uneasy about parting ways with the enemy without inflicting some sort of punishment, but, with a few exceptions, everyone really did seem to be back to normal. The only thing I worried about was that, without our protection, Rae and the others were vulnerable. We would have to find a way to protect them from Eric’s wrath, or to prevent them from getting sucked back into his machinations.
“It feels weird,” Tanya whispers to me now as we make our way through the Greek Quad, toward the sorority house. Her voice draws me out of my jumbled thoughts. “Just letting them go like that.”
“But we dismantled the army,” I explain, “by destroying the jewelry. They’re no longer under Eric’s influence.”
Tanya looks skeptical. “Some of them didn’t seem too happy about it.”
“Most of them were, though. I mean, they have to be relieved, right? Who would really want to be someone’s puppet?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Maybe they’re used to being controlled now. Maybe they don’t want to be free. It’s just a thought,” she adds quickly, in response to the stricken expression on my face.
“Rae did,” I insist, watching our shoes pound over the pavement. “And I think the others did, too. I think it’s great we were able to settle it peacefully. Violence isn’t always the answer.”
“I know, but Carly…sometimes it is,” Tanya says, surprising me. “I agree with you that it was nice, but it wasn’t a permanent fix. Eric will find a way to strike again.”
“Then we’ll stop him. That doesn’t mean innocent people have to die,” I snap.
She shrugs her eyebrows doubtfully but doesn’t reply, definitively ending the conversation. We’ve been walking ahead of the rest of the group and reach the door first. Tanya uses her key card to let us in, a room full of empty, steel birdcages and stray white feathers greeting us.
“Finally.” A woman I don’t recognize stands up from the couch and gives us a haughty smile. She’s we
aring a crisp white pantsuit and patent leather high heels. Her dark brown hair is pulled back into a perfect bun, not a strand of hair out of place. “I was wondering what was taking you so long. Welcome back.”
I glance at Tanya in confusion, surprised to see that her usually bronze-tinged complexion has gone pale. “H-Hera,” she stammers, taking a step back.
“I prefer Your Highness,” Hera says coolly. “Or Your Gloriousness. Queen of All the Realms. Pick your favorite.”
“Queen Mother!” Athena exclaims from the doorway. She comes inside, carrying a dozing Victoria in her arms. “Please excuse my brashness. I would kneel, but…”
Hera holds a hand up to silence her. “There’s no need for such formalities,” she says as the rest of our party files in: Farrah and Hephaestus, Dionysus and Sib, my sorority sisters, and the newcomers, who turned out to be a mixture of reinforcements from our National Headquarters and members of the Gamma Lambda Phi chapter at the University of Washington. “All I need is a few minutes of your time.”
Hera waits patiently while we settle in, sitting down anywhere we can find room. The kitchen chairs and couches fill up quickly, everyone else finding floor space, even sitting on each other’s laps. We’ve never had so many people in the house before, not even during recruitment. The house has reached maximum capacity.
“If you don’t mind my saying, Your Magnificence,” Farrah says with forced politeness, “our girls have been through a lot tonight. I think any further…punishment…can wait until tomorrow—”
“Oh, relax, Aphrodite,” Hera insists with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’m not here to punish ‘your girls.’ They’ve served a brief but effectual sentence, I’m sure. No, I’m here for quite the opposite reason. To praise you for a job well done.”
Hera’s declaration is met with an uneasy silence. Farrah works her jaw, grappling for an appropriate response. Athena’s forehead knots, skepticism in her eyes as she studies her queen. Many of my sorority sisters look a little sick as their eyes dart between Hera and the birdcages still stationed throughout the room. Dionysus is the only one who doesn’t seem too worried about anything, scratching at a blood stain on his pants. Sensing my gaze, he looks up.
Pay attention! I mouth to him. He makes a face at me, but then turns his eyes to Hera.
“Don’t look so shocked.” Hera’s smile is hesitant as she takes in all of our doubtful expressions. “I know I was hard on all of you, but I wanted you to prove to me that you were capable and took your responsibilities seriously. And you have far surpassed my expectations. Your sister Carly”—she gestures to me—“singlehandedly found a way to make the antidote to reverse the effects of my moonshade brownies. And all of you pulled together to stop the insurgents from infiltrating Olympus. I feel proud that you are the women guarding and defending our two worlds.
“Now, on to more practical matters,” Hera continues, bringing her hands together.
“That’s it?” Tanya exclaims. “Don’t we at least get medals or something?”
“Or participation trophies?” one of the pledges pipes up.
“Excuse me, Your…Gloriousness,” I jump in, standing.
“Yes, Carly?” Hera’s tone is calm, although she looks somewhat startled as she turns to face me.
“Before we move on, there’s another order of business I’d like to bring to your attention.” I glance at the stairs, where Madam Moira is waiting to make her entrance. I noticed her starting to tiptoe downstairs during Hera’s monologue, pausing about halfway down. “Someone who helped me a great deal tonight would like a quick word with you and the other Elders here today.”
Smiling her appreciation, Moira comes the rest of the way down, blue cloak rippling.
Hera arches an eyebrow. “Who are you?”
Moira gives a brief curtsey, bowing her head. “My name is Moira, Your Highness. I am an Olympian who has been stranded on this world for many, many years. I am also a seer.”
“I think I’ve seen you before,” Athena says, leaning forward with interest. “Yes, I know I have. It was ages ago, but you came to the capital a few times to give council to Zeus.”
Moira’s smile widens with relief. “Yes, that was me.”
The queen shrugs, clearly not remembering any such occurrence. “What have you come here to tell us today, Moira? Have you had a vision? If it has to do with Ares and the invasion, you must tell us immediately!”
“I have had some visions concerning that, yes,” the seer confirms, linking her hands in front of her. “But that is not why I seek your attention today, although it does have to do with Ares.
“Now that we know Ares is a traitor, I imagine his seat on the Elder Council is vacant,” she continues. Hera gives a stiff nod. “You will need someone to fill that seat. You need me.”
“That’s rather presumptuous. What makes you think we need you?”
“Like you said: I have visions. I have a connection to the Fates no other council member has. And the future they have shown me of late is a dark and terrible one. If I’m on the council, I can relay these premonitions to you as soon as they occur and provide guidance to you and the other Elders. Forgive me, my queen, for I am not trying to be presumptuous. But I know that I have a lot to offer the council. I know that I could make a difference there. All I ask is that you please consider my candidacy.”
A few minutes of silence follow Moira’s speech as Hera and the other Elders consider her request. “She’s right,” Athena finally says, meeting Hera’s gaze. “We could use a seer on the council. Especially in times like these.”
“Carly mentioned that Moira helped her tonight,” adds Farrah. “I would like to hear more about that before we make a final decision, but I think we should take her candidacy seriously. Filling that empty seat on the council is a top priority.”
“I agree.” Turning again to Moira, Hera says, “The council will have to discuss this further, but we accept your nomination, Moira.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Moira curtseys again before taking a seat on the stairs. I also start to sit down, but Hera motions me back up.
“Now, Carly, before you get comfortable again, care to tell us how you came to possess the sword Godslayer?”
Oh, right. The sword. It makes sense she’d want to know about that. Standing, I pull the sword out of my belt, brandishing it for everyone to see. A few startled gasps go up around the room.
“It’s not that exciting of a story,” I insist. “I found it in the Underworld when I went to get some asphodel. For the antidote. It was sticking out of the rocks.” I decide not to mention that pulling it out triggered a rock slide, and that I was chased out of the Underworld by Cerberus. It’s probably bad enough I stole the sword.
“That’s all well and good, but how did you get there in the first place?”
Hera’s question throws me off guard. I thought I was in trouble for taking the sword, but she just wants to know how I got to the Underworld? Usually, I would look to Victoria for help, but my roommate is slumped against Athena’s shoulder, sleeping off her injuries. I glance at Athena instead, and she gives me an encouraging nod.
“There’s this…rift thing at Point Park,” I explain slowly. “A place where the walls are damaged, so there’s nothing dividing Earth from the Underworld. I just…walked right in.” Hera’s eyebrows go up. From the worry gleaming in her brown eyes, I almost wish I hadn’t said anything. Feeling self-conscious, I sit down, balancing the sword carefully on my lap.
“And it’s not the only one,” says Athena. “There’s another out in the woods. That’s how we were able to get to Titan so quickly and stop Eric’s army.”
Hera strokes her chin, deep in thought. “And how do you think these…rifts…are being made?”
“It happens after someone opens a portal. I don’t know what went down in Point Park, but Victoria and I were there when the other one was created.” I go on to quickly tell them about the Sigma Iotas and the delivery from Titan.
“So that what?” Hera presses.
Athena heaves a reluctant sigh. “So that Siobhan—who went in to get Carly—could get back out herself.”
“She didn’t make it out,” Hera surmises. Farrah, Athena and I all nod. The rest of the sorority stares at me, shell-shocked. I had forgotten that this is the first time they’re hearing the news.
“How are we just hearing about this now?” Tanya asks me, sounding hurt. “You should have told us right away!” She shifts slightly as if to move away from me, but, as the room is packed, there isn’t anywhere to go.
“I wanted to,” I say desperately, “but there just wasn’t time—of course I was going to tell you—”
“Silence.” Hera cuts me off, then takes a moment to consider everything we’ve just said. “This is a rather…unexpected development. Work to repair these rifts begins immediately.” She directs this order to Farrah.
Farrah looks taken aback. “We’ll certainly try. But, Your Gloriousness, we’re not even sure how, or if they can be repaired at all.”
“Actually,” I pipe up, raising a tentative hand into the air, “I think they can.” I hesitate as all eyes in the room turn to me again.
“Go on,” Hera encourages me, crossing her arms. “We’re listening.
“I remembered something recently. Something I hadn’t thought about in a long time. When I was little, one of those rifts appeared near my grandparents’ house. My grandmother—I think she was a guardian—closed it. She had a ritual, and some sort of object. I can’t really remember what it looked like, though,” I admit, looking down at the sword in my lap.
“That’s alright, Carly,” Athena insists, her voice hopeful. “At least now we know there’s a way to close them. Do you have any idea where she might have kept this object?” I start to tell her that I’m not sure, but Hera interrupts me.