by S. L. Stacy
“This is something the Elder Council will have to discuss further. In the meantime, any portal travel between Earth and Olympus—or between any other worlds—is suspended.”
“We’ve already sworn to that,” Athena assures her.
“But these are extenuating circumstances.” I stand up, ignoring the slight shake of Farrah’s head. “Siobhan is stuck in Pandora—all because of me. We have to get her out of there.”
Farrah gets to her feet, wringing her hands together. “I am so sorry for her outburst,” she says to Hera, giving me a pointed look. “She doesn’t know the proper—”
“Oh, shut it,” Hera snaps, making our house mother flinch. “She’s just sticking up for her friend. As well she should. Carly, I am deeply sorry about Siobhan,” she says, turning to me. “She is a very kind and brave young woman. But in times like this, we can’t make exceptions—not even for those we love.”
“What about when Eric’s army tries to attack your precious planet again?” Tanya fires back. “I’m sure you’ll be able to make an exception then.”
“Ladies!” Farrah gasps.
“Through your courage and perseverance today, you have redeemed yourselves. But don’t test my gratitude or my patience.” The look Hera gives me and Tanya would make even the most hardened soldier wither. We sit back down in silence, Tanya still avoiding my gaze. “We’ll put it to a vote. Elders: All in favor of suspending all portal activity until further notice, please raise your right hand.” Her own hand goes up immediately, as does Farrah’s, which I suspect has more to do with her need to please Hera than her personal feelings toward Siobhan. At least that’s what I’m going to keep telling myself.
Hephaestus and Athena’s arms go up more slowly, but up they go. Finally, keeping his gaze fixed to the floor, Dionysus raises his right hand.
Hera looks satisfied. “You may all put your hands down. I will ask Hermes to send a message to the remaining Elders on Olympus to get their votes. But I have a feeling this will be a unanimous decision.”
“I know Hermes will vote yes,” Athena says with confidence. “He’s the one who tried to warn us about it in the first place.”
“Thank you for your service, and for your patience and understanding with these difficult decisions. Now, if you will please give me the sword”—Hera extends an eager hand toward me—“I will be out of your way. I can give you the information for where I’m staying, should you need me.”
My grip tightens on the sword hilt. I look to Farrah and Athena in panic.
“On this matter, I’m going to have to respectfully disagree,” Farrah tells the queen firmly. “The sword stays with us.”
“I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that this, too, was up for debate. It’s not. Now, please, Carly.” Hera wriggles her fingers expectantly. “The sword.”
“But Hephaestus is the one who created it,” I remind her. “Shouldn’t it at least stay with him?”
“Actually, I am not its creator,” he corrects me, unwinding stiffly to his feet.
I gape at him. “You’re not? But the book said—”
“That I created Godslayer was a rumor started long ago—by whom, I will probably never know—that I’ve never been able to quite dispel. The sword is just as much a legend, its origin just as much a mystery, to me as it is to all of you. But,” he qualifies, holding up a cautioning hand, “I agree that Godslayer should remain here, with these young women. Our defenders.”
“Hephaestus is right,” Athena says. “We’re in the middle of the biggest conflict our people have seen in millennia. We won the battle tonight, but, as they say here, we haven’t won the war. Not yet.”
“We may have set Eric back, but he’ll come back in full force,” Dionysus agrees, speaking up for the first time tonight. Or today, rather. The days are starting to blur together. “And when he does, we may need the sword, whether we like it or not.”
“Although your reasoning is sound, I am not comfortable leaving the sword here, in this house,” Hera maintains. “We’re talking about the most dangerous weapon our people have ever created. And, as Hephaestus just reminded us, we don’t even know much about it. It’s not safe here.”
“You may be right about that, but the best place for it certainly is not with you.” Farrah rises to her feet, glaring defiantly at the queen. “Hermes has helped us secure some of the more dangerous items we’ve come to possess. He can help us with the sword as well. But the Gamma Lambda Phis are on the front lines. The sword is a part of their arsenal and they, above anyone else, should be able to access it easily in times of need. It must stay with us.”
Hera mashes her lips together, trembling like a grenade that’s about to explode. Recomposing herself, she smiles, folding her hands in front of her. “Fine. The sword stays here. Now, before I go, let’s all head into the kitchen.” She pauses dramatically, her smile widening. “I baked you some brownies!”
Everyone stares at her. Tanya wavers in her seat, looking nauseous.
The Olympian queen lets out a self-conscious laugh. “Oh, come on. I was just kidding! You should see the look on all of your faces. It was a joke. Lighten up!”
***
After Hera leaves, a few of the girls and I help Farrah clean out and put away the birdcages. Some of the sisters are talking to the Gamma Lambda Phis from Seattle. Farrah has put Tanya in charge of finding accommodations for them, something they didn’t waste time with before their spur-of-the-moment trip to Shadesburg. Although some of them will stay here, there just isn’t enough room for everyone. Dionysus and Sib say their goodbyes and then depart for the Delta Iota Kappa house.
“That’s enough for today, ladies,” Farrah says eventually, stacking the cage we just wiped down on top of the others in the downstairs closet, where we’re storing them temporarily. For now, we’ve moved the boxes of craft supplies out of that closet into Farrah’s room. I guess she’d rather be around a bunch of colored paper and glitter than the cages, which, despite our best efforts, still smell vaguely of bird. Can’t say I blame her.
“You should go to bed, Carly,” Farrah adds, brow creased as she studies me. “You look exhausted. You must have been up all night.”
I shrug, realizing that she’s right. “To be honest, I don’t even feel it. I feel like I have all of this nervous energy. Like I want to keep moving.” So that I don’t have to think about the other things that happened last night.
Our house mother shakes her head. “The only thing you need to do right now is rest. And Carly,” she says just as I turn around, about to head up the stairs, “what you did last night—you were brilliant. I’m sorry Athena and I weren’t there, but you handled everything so well. We’re so proud of you.”
“Thanks,” I tell her, feeling that all-too-familiar blush creeping up my neck and face. I race upstairs before she can get another compliment in.
When I open the door to our room, Athena is sitting at the foot of Victoria’s bed, talking to her in hushed tones. Victoria’s eyes are open, staring groggily up at the ceiling.
“Sorry,” I say quickly, backing out of the door.
Athena gives a start, just noticing me. “No, it’s okay, Carly. I was just leaving anyway. Both of you need to get some sleep.” She turns back to Victoria. “I’ll be back to check on you later.”
“Wait.” Victoria’s voice comes out weak and hoarse as she struggles to sit up in the bed. “We need to talk. I need to tell you—”
“Whatever it is can wait.” Athena rises, hovering over the bed. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
“It can’t wait. We need to talk about what I did to Rebecca.” Victoria’s sentences are interrupted by slow, shaking breaths. It still takes all of her effort just to get the words out. “And something else. While you and Farrah were away, I met this girl. We—”
“Whatever happened, I don’t care.” Athena brushes some of the hair out of Victoria’s face so that she can meet her gaze directly. “I love you, and I forgive you. We�
��ve been through a lot together. We can certainly get through this.” She bends down, pressing a gentle kiss on Victoria’s forehead. Victoria looks perplexed as she watches Athena leave, closing the door softly behind her. Then, her eyes flicker to me as I crawl into bed, still wearing the disgusting clothes I’ve had on for the past day.
“Did they prescribe bedrest for you too?” she asks with a little smirk.
I nod. “Except I’m not sure I’ll even be able to fall asleep.” The curtains are closed, but the sun presses up against them, fighting its way inside. I’m in a post-all-nighter daze, my body sore, exhausted, my brain muddled. But I know, as soon as I close my eyes, all of the night’s memories and emotions are going to come rushing back. I don’t want to think about them. I can’t.
Victoria gives a raspy laugh. “Too much excitement.” We lay on our respective sides of the room in silence for a few minutes. “I heard you really kicked butt today.”
I shrug. “Not really. There were plenty of people who did way more literal butt kicking than me.”
“But Athena said you were able to stop the battle. Using some sort of glow-y force field thing. Her words, not mine.” She sits up in the bed, the movement making her wince. “Show me.”
“Alright.” I sit up too, holding out my palms toward her. Now that I know it exists, the power source inside of me is easy to access this time. Concentrating on it, I channel its energy, warmth prickling my skin as it heats up, expanding. The energy bursts from my hands, coating them in a diaphanous, gold-tinged film.
My roommate lets out a small gasp. “That’s pretty awesome.”
“Thanks.” I smile, drawing the energy back into my body and dropping my hands.
“Seriously, though. I wish I could do that. I’m definitely jelly.”
“I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just say ‘jelly.’ Wait a minute.” I pull the sheet up to my chin, suddenly chilled. “I thought I had discovered some new guardian power none of us had tapped into yet. Something we inherited from you. But you can’t do this?”
“No.” Victoria shakes her head. “I don’t know of any Olympian able to do what you just showed me. Looks like you’ve discovered your very own special hidden talent, Carly. Pretty cool.” She smiles reassuringly. Although I appreciate what she’s trying to say, I don’t feel very “special” at the moment. In fact, I just feel weird. Like a freak.
“Was the battle the first time you were able to produce this…force field?” she wonders.
“Yes—” I start to respond, then stop myself. I had thought it was, but now that I think about it, there was one other I time I may have used it, only I didn’t realize it. Back in the Underworld, when Charon was approaching me, but came to an abrupt stop like he had hit an invisible wall. I had thought Persephone was shielding me from him. But maybe I was the one doing it.
“I think I might have used it once before. But I’m not sure,” I admit. “I’m just glad I was able to channel it today. So that we could end things peacefully.”
“I am, too. You did good, Carly.”
“Thanks. Farrah said basically the same thing.”
“You’re going to make a good president next year.”
I shoot up in the bed, dropping the sheet. “But you’re our president.”
“Elections are next semester,” she reminds me. “And I’m an Olympian. I can’t be president of a sorority forever. But I feel reassured knowing that I’ll be leaving it in good hands.”
“I may have kicked butt tonight, but that doesn’t make me a leader. That doesn’t make me president material.”
“You’ve shown you can make tough decisions. A president has to be able to do that.”
I sigh wistfully. “I miss the days when our toughest decisions had to do with which fraternity we were going to mix with. Not decisions like who gets to live and who gets to die. I don’t want that kind of responsibility on my shoulders.”
“I’m sorry,” Victoria whimpers. I know she thinks I’m talking about Siobhan, and I am—but she’s not the only person I’m talking about. The walls I’ve put up around my feelings to get through the rest of the night come crashing down, my tears breaking through them like a swollen river breaking a dam. Victoria looks at me with wide eyes. “What happened?”
So I tell her. Everything.
When I’m done, I wonder if—through all of my sobs and hiccups—she could even understand a word I said.
“I’m sorry, Carly,” she says again after a while. “I’m so, so sorry. But it’s not your fault.”
“Why do people keep saying that?” I cry out in frustration. “About everything. Every, damn, thing. It is my fault. I stabbed him. I killed him!”
“I just meant that he drove you to it. He pushed you over the edge. If you hadn’t stopped him, you could be the one dead right now. And we would have been defeated today.”
“I—I know, it’s just that the others…we were able to save them. Deep down, they were still themselves. What if there had been some other way to save Dolos? He said that there wasn’t—that he was too weak to fight back—but what if he was wrong? What if I could have saved him, too?”
“He didn’t really give you a chance, Carly,” Victoria says quietly. “I know it’s hard, but you have to forgive yourself and move on. You did the right thing. Remember what I said about tough decisions? We’re in the middle of a war. It’s not going to get any easier.”
“You’re right.” I grab a tissue from the nightstand, dabbing it across my cheeks. “I know you’re right. Ugh, I swear,” I groan, chucking the tissue toward the wastebasket, and missing, “between Alec and Dolos, I’m taking a break from men. Especially ones in evil fraternities. I need a change. Something different.” I look to my roommate for suggestions.
“Don’t look at me,” Victoria jokes weakly. “I have a girlfriend.”
“Not that kind of different. I meant like a hobby.”
“You could take up running.”
“Yeah, I did a lot of that last night. Think I need a break from that, too.”
Victoria laughs, then sinks down into the bed, closing her eyes. “I’m going to rest now.”
“Okay. Me, too.” I lie back down, sprawling on my stomach, and close my eyes. Sleep comes more quickly than I thought it would, dragging me down into blissful unawareness.
Chapter 23
“I have to admit, I was surprised to get your email.” Jasper studies me over his coffee, pausing to take a long, thoughtful sip. “When you said you’d get the Pandora jar to me, I kind of figured you were just buttering me up so I’d give you the starflower pollen.”
“You thought that, and you still gave it to me?” We’re sitting at a table in the back corner of the library café. It’s Monday morning, and the line for coffee and bagels runs all the way around the room. I had the weekend to rest and recuperate, which I took full advantage of, spending it almost entirely in bed. Our Seattle sisters stayed for a few extra days, visiting the city and bonding with our chapter, which I mostly stayed out of. I just wasn’t in the mood, and I don’t think anybody blamed me. They left early this morning after a lot of tears and hugs, and well-meaning but hollow promises that we would all get together again very soon.
He shrugs. “I don’t really have many other options at this point. So, how did everything go? I’m assuming, since the last few days have been pretty uneventful, you prevented anything catastrophic from happening.”
His wry tone brings a small smile to my lips. “That’s true. We did. I made the antidote in time, and we stopped the invasion.”
“Great. Once again, Team Good saves the day.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Team Good?”
“Well, you’re going to have to come up with a better team name. That’s all I’ve got.”
“Jasper,” I say seriously, then stall a moment longer by sipping on my tea. He leans back in his chair, watching me patiently. “I don’t know how close you were to Dolos and Apate—I mean, besides the fact that
you worked for the same psychopathic boss—but…they’re dead.”
At this news, Jasper’s expression doesn’t change much—then again, I’ve really only ever seen it vacillate between cool indifference and unbridled rage. But there’s a sadness in his deep blue eyes when he says, “We were friends, once. Apate and I were pretty close before we started working for Eric. But she never fully gave in to Eric’s demands, more worried about rescuing her brother, while I was completely consumed with the status and power I thought my father could get me. We may have been working together, but we haven’t been true friends in a long time.
“Still, that’s terrible news. I mean…wow.” He sighs, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. What happened?”
“Have you heard of the sword called Godslayer?”
“Godslayer,” he repeats, looking surprised. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time—and then, I only heard it in stories my father used to tell me. It was like a legend to me. I didn’t think it had even ever really existed. I thought it was just a story the Elders liked to tell us so that we didn’t think we were truly invincible. Something like that can really go to your head.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, clearly the stories worked, because you’re all so dang modest.”
Jasper chuckles quietly. Then, he frowns again, a faraway look coming over his expression. “So, I’m guessing this sword was responsible for their deaths. I still just can’t believe it. It doesn’t seem real.”
“There’s one more thing,” I admit, shifting my gaze to the table. “It’s kind of my fault.” I give him the rest of the details. When I’m done, I steal a glance up, but Jasper doesn’t look angry. “You’re not mad?”
His brow furrows. “Why would I be mad? We do what we have to do in times of war. And it’s not your fault about Apate. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
“I took her brother away.”
“She was in pain. They were always close, especially after the kind of childhood they had. I’m not surprised she felt like she literally couldn’t live without him.” Moving his coffee cup aside, he leans across the table. “Are you okay?”