by Raye Wagner
Hope snorted. “Your history is wrong, and it sucks.”
“Obviously.” He gave her a half smirk but still wore his worry like a mask. “I don’t know what to do, Hope. Endy and Obelia are demanding you be killed. And they’ll pull Tre, Ty, and Prax into this. Technically you’re a monster.” He swallowed. “Although I can hardly believe it.”
“I can leave. I never should’ve come here in the first place. Please tell me you’ll let me leave.”
He stretched his hand across the table and grabbed hers but refused to meet her eyes. “I don’t know what to do, but I don’t want you to go, and I don’t want you to die, either.”
Hope pulled her hand away. “Now what?”
He threw his hands up. “What possessed you to come to a conservatory?”
Hope told him about going to the temple, giving Artemis an offering, and then what the goddess had told her, careful to leave Priska out of it. “I only want to find a way to break the curse.” Hope leaned forward. “I want to be free to make my own choices.”
Xan let out a prolonged exhale. “I’ll call a quorum. We’ll discuss this, and then majority rules on the decision. It’s the best I can do.”
Hope dropped her head on the table. “They’ll kill me.”
Xan ground his teeth. “No. I’ll call Thenia and Kaia and see when they’ll be back.” He sounded hopeful but not very convinced. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She wanted to believe him. “Can you really promise that?”
His shoulders sagged. “I think so. They like you.”
“Like me?” In what world did demigods like monsters?
“Not everyone wants to wipe out the monsters. It’d be easier if Thenia was here already. She’s really good at reasoning, especially with Endy and his brothers.”
“Right now it’s you, Dahlia, Endy, Tre, Ty, Praxis, and Obelia?”
“Dahlia left last night to meet Kaia, but Dion’s here, right?”
“Um, yeah.” It sounded like terrible odds.
“Is Athan awake?”
Hope shook her head. “I haven’t checked on him this morning, but he was comatose last night.”
“Shite.” He hit the table with his bloody hand and then winced.
“They’re going to want to kill me, huh?” It felt as if she were talking about someone else, and yet the pit in her stomach wouldn’t completely let her forget the sphinx was her.
He ground his teeth and ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair. With another long exhale, he stood. “Let me see what I can do.”
“Xan?” She had to ask. No one had told her anything, and she needed to know. “Is Athan going to be all right?”
“Probably.” His face was sallow, and he looked exhausted. “It wasn’t a death strike, right? It just nicked the leg?”
Hope nodded.
“Yeah, he’ll be fine in a couple weeks. Skia blades only kill a demigod if we’re struck in a vital organ.” He pointed to his chest and then his head. “To a human, its very touch would be deadly.” He scratched his cheek. “I have no idea what would happen if one touched you.”
Hope had a good idea, but it didn’t matter.
“Anyway, other wounds from Skia cause a coma for a bit. Our bodies have to burn off the poison, or something like that.”
“Would any immortal weapon do that or only the blade of a Skia?”
“I’m guessing any immortal weapon, which is why I threatened Endy. Thenia would probably know, or maybe Obelia.”
There was no way she was going to ask the daughter of Hestia anything. Ever.
“I’m going to see if Dion is sober. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him sober, but we can hope.” He pursed his lips. “You should go to your room. I can’t promise you’ll be safe there, but it’s that or . . .” He glanced at the steel room.
She flinched at the thought of being stuck in the metal box. “Can’t I leave?”
Xan shook his head. “That’s the fastest way to ensure they hunt you down. This way, the sons of Apollo will be bound by the quorum’s decision.”
“Would you kill me?” If that was her fate, she knew he would do it swiftly. Kindly, if there was such a thing.
“What?” His posture slumped and he blinked, blinked, blinked at her.
“If you guys vote, and the majority wants to kill me, would you do it?”
He stood over her, and with his still-bloody knuckles, rubbed his chin. “You want me to kill you?”
“No! But if that was the vote—?”
“No one is going to kill you, Hope. I promise.”
“Okay.” His words were hollow, but she didn’t have the strength to argue. She leaned back in the chair. “Can I go visit Athan?”
Xan rolled his eyes. “Make it quick.”
Then, muttering something about quorums and Dion’s sobriety, he left the room.
Hope sat at the table, tracing the wood grain and then the pattern on the placemats. She wasn’t sure why Xan would let her roam free; everything she knew about demigods and monsters contradicted it. Maybe he really did care for her, regardless.
The door was ajar when she got to Athan’s room, and Hope tapped quietly before walking in. The air was heavy with incense, the lights dim. She stopped in her tracks when Obelia stood up from the chair at the side of the bed.
“What are you doing here, monster?” Obelia whispered, but the small girl’s voice seethed with venom.
Hope gritted her teeth.
“You should leave!” Obelia came at Hope with clenched fists.
“I can’t?” Hope felt beaten, and her timid words came out more like a question.
“You can’t?”
“No.” She pulled herself straight, feigning courage she did not feel. “Xan told me I had to stay until after your quorum.”
“He’s calling a quorum?” Obelia’s voice was no longer quiet. “What in the name of Hades? This is ajabu! Hawezi kuita Kiwango!”
Hope stood dumbfounded; she wasn’t even sure what language Obelia was speaking.
“Shetri! Huwezi kufanya hivyo na mimi! Wewe ni yanaangamiza kila kitu!” Obelia continued screaming at her.
The door opened, and Dion strode in. He stopped, his gaze darted between the two girls, and then turned to the demigod. “Me synchoreite, Obelia. I, uh, do not think the dynati foni, shouting, is helping our filos, no? You come with me, arketa koritsi.” He grabbed Obelia by the hand.
“Don’t touch me! It’s not me that should be leaving!” Obelia stuck out an accusatory finger. “Get her out of here!”
“No, no. Let’s go. You are ichiros, very loud, no?”
He pulled on her hand one more time, but Obelia resisted again.
Hope stood transfixed by the scene. Even though she wanted to help, she knew of no way to intervene without making it worse. She couldn’t understand why Dion was helping her, and not Obelia.
“If you touch me again—”
Dion didn’t let Obelia finish her statement. With speed that contradicted inebriation, he crossed the room. He clamped one hand over Obelia’s mouth, and used his other arm to encircle her body and arms, then picked her up. Swaying, either from her weight or the alcohol, Dion carried Obelia from the room.
Hope stood still for a solid minute. He’d let her stay. She went over to the bed, sat down, and with a deep sigh, she put her head on the mattress’s edge.
“What a mess, Athan,” she whispered, taking his hand. Intertwining their fingers, she stroked his soft skin. Her heart pulsed with a sense of grief. Leaning over the bed, she put her lips to his forehead then sat back down again.
“I shouldn’t have come here.” She stared at him, as if he might answer. But his eyes remained closed, his chest rising and falling in a deep, slow rhythm. “You know, if it weren’t for you, I never would have. You were very convincing, son of Hermes.” She swallowed back the hurt that bubbled up. “All that time in Goldendale, I trusted you implicitly. I never, not for a second, thought you migh
t be lying to me.”
She got up from the chair and paced the room. The muted light and movement helped diffuse her tension. She walked slowly back to the bed, all her focus on the young man she couldn’t help but love. Trying to memorize his features, she traced his eyes, his nose, and his lips. She let her fingers trace from his shoulder to his hand and back up again. She glanced at his eyes, and seeing they were still closed, she picked up his hand and pressed it to her lips.
“Demigod of thieves, you stole my heart, and now I think I’m going to need it back.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t stay here. I’m sure they’ll never let me, and with you injured, I’m afraid some will want to kill me.” She choked on a sob.
The fingers in her hand twitched and then clasped hers.
“I won’t let you go.” His voice was scratchy.
“Athan?” Her mouth formed his name but made no sound.
“If you leave, Hope, I’ll find you. I’ll travel the whole world to find you.”
Tears filled her eyes. He was awake!
He smiled, and his look was one of infinite patience. “Hope.”
For a moment, she allowed herself to almost believe it would be okay.
“We’ll find a way,” he said.
Her heart fluttered. “A way to what?”
His lips pulled up into the familiar smirk, and he whispered, “To break the curse. I won’t let Apollo have you.”
Hope checked behind her, but the hallway was empty. She crossed the room and closed the door. She wanted to cry. “You don’t hate me?”
His eyes widened, and his already ashen skin paled further. “Gods, Hope. Really? I’m okay with you in whatever form. I like you. I told you that. Your curse is only . . . a curse. It doesn’t define you.”
His words stole her heart. Cautiously, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. It wasn’t nearly enough, but she refused to hurt him anymore. She drew back to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry I ran.”
A deep growl rumbled through Athan’s chest. His green eyes lit from within, and weaving his hands through her hair, he pulled Hope back to him.
They kissed, tentatively at first, but caution disappeared when Hope climbed onto his bed to be closer. It was like fire and lightning, and love and warmth. His hands cupped her shoulders, then traced down her back. She could drown in him. Love, and hope, and a feeling of fierceness swelled from her heart to her toes.
“Gods, I’ve missed you,” he breathed against her skin.
The door crashed opened, and Hope jumped, instinctively pulling away from Athan and scrambling to the edge of the bed.
Endy stalked across the thick carpet, his eyes narrowed as if hunting prey. “Well, well, well. The beast’s here. Are you trying to finish him off?”
Her blood boiled, and she clenched her hands into fists. “What are you talking about?”
“Are you going to strangle him?” Endy taunted. “You know, that’s what your name means.” His smirk was cruel, and his confidence was unnerving.
“Hope doesn’t mean—”
“No. Sphinx. For being creative, coming up with all those riddles, you’re not very smart.”
“Hey!” Athan shifted and spoke around Hope, “Get out of here.”
“Don’t worry, Athan. I’ll make sure she doesn’t hurt you anymore.” Endy towered over Hope, his hand resting on a golden blade attached to his belt.
The insult took her off guard, and Hope’s jaw went slack. “I would never hurt him.”
She started to rise, but before she was upright, Endy grabbed Hope’s shoulders and threw her to the ground. She landed on her hands and knees but popped back up.
Instinct took over, and she slipped into a fighting stance.
Endy laughed. “I know Xan tells you you’re good, but he’s just trying to get in your pants.” He pulled out the golden dagger and brandished it in front of her face. “Do you recognize this? I can kill you with it. Do you really want to fight me, Sphinx? It will only take one—”
Endy didn’t get to finish.
Hope was pushed aside, and Athan gripped the golden boy by his shirt collar. “Don’t. Touch. Her.” His breaths came in short gasps. “She saved my life.”
“You’re sick,” Endy argued. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” He continued to wave the bright blade. “Lie down, Athan. I’ll take care of this.”
Athan didn’t counter with words. He struck with his fist, and the crack of bone meeting bone reverberated throughout the room.
Endy fell to the floor in a heap.
“Holy Hades,” Hope breathed.
Athan slid to the floor.
“A little help . . . please?” He grimaced as he pulled himself up to a sitting position.
Hope got him back to bed and pulled the covers over him.
He grabbed her hand. “Don’t disappear, Hope. Please don’t leave.”
She caressed his cheek, his whiskers scratching her fingertips. “Go to sleep. You need to rest or you won’t get better.”
His head bobbed unsteadily, and she was sure he would pass out. It was all her fault. She blinked back tears and brushed his hair away from his face.
“Shhh. Go to sleep. Everything will be okay.” She knew the words were a lie, but what could she say?
“Promise me. Don’t make me search. I will, Hope. If you leave . . .” His words slurred together, and he collapsed in exhaustion.
How could anything ever be okay?
Hope pulled Endy to the corner of the room, put a pillow from a chair under his head, and then placed a cold washcloth on his cheek where a mottled purple blossom had begun to spread. If he kept this up, his face would be hamburger by evening. At the very least, he was going to have a nasty bruise to go with his broken nose.
She glanced around the disheveled room. Everywhere she went, she seemed to make a mess.
SHE SHOULD’VE GONE TO her room. It’s where Xan had told her to go, but something told her it would also be the first place Endy would go if he wanted to find her. Endy, or anyone else. She needed someplace safe so she could think. Quiet and safe.
The library. Besides, there was one book left by the Moirai. Maybe she’d get a chance to finish it before she left.
She pulled open the heavy doors, the smell of old paper and wood polish assailing her. As she made her way through the library, the sunlight dimmed and the artificial light grew. She finally reached the back of the room and pulled the heavy volume from its shelf. Brushing the dust off the cover, she read the inscription. Curse. Exactly like her Book and the others by the Moirai. She traced the gold lettering, but her mind was still reeling from Athan’s kiss, Endy’s accusations, and Athan punching Endy out.
What was she going to do? She needed to leave. Could she stay until Athan was better? Lost in her thoughts, she startled when the sound of heavy clanking crawled down the aisle where she sat.
Hope jumped to her feet, but the monster was already too close.
BRIAREUS SHUFFLED FORWARD dragging a laden cart behind him. Most of his arms and hands hung heavy at his side, bound in chains. A thick cable connected through the bindings, tying them to the trunk of his body. Only four hands remained free enough to move, and then only shoulder height. The monster’s heads had swollen, red eyes, and snot ran from several of his noses.
Hope wanted to sneak away, but he was blocking her only exit.
She knew the moment he spotted her, for his advance ground to a halt.
“You?” Two hands scrubbed at faces smeared with tears, and two hands pointed at her. “You are here?”
“You’re not in Tartarus?” Hadn’t that been where Xan said he’d be?
“Zeus is kinder than you demigods.” He shook his chains, perhaps to frighten her, but it was clear the chains held him bound. “You really wanted to read about monsters?” he asked. Heads swiveled to focus on her.
She eyed his hulking mass and weighed her chance for freedom a marginal nil. She gulped, trying unsuccessfully to
swallow her fear. “I wasn’t trying to be rude. I really wanted to know.”
“Why do you care?” He inched forward but stopped as soon as she scooted back. “What does it matter to you?”
What could she say? Why would a demigod have any interest in monsters? They were hated and hunted in the past, feared and confined now. There was nothing but the truth. “I want to learn how to break the curse.”
Neither spoke as they regarded one another.
Finally, Briareus lifted all of his heads, and all of his eyes turned to her. His gaze was staggering. “You would want to break a monster’s curse?”
She bowed under the weight of it. His gaze and disbelief. Her aching need to break the curse and be free. “Yes.”
He sat, and the ground shook. “The gods don’t show mercy, except as it will benefit them. Remember that when you ask for something; always make it in their best interest to help you.” He pulled on the chains and then let them fall to the floor. “Curses cannot be broken.”
Hope’s heart broke.
“But words can be twisted, interpreted; the meanings can change. Find a way to bend the words to meet your needs, and you can help your monster.” He sighed, another chorus of echoes. “And then will you, one day, help me?”
Hope shook her head. “How can I help you?”
“Will you hear my story? The Moirai’s books are bound in Hades, even these are to go there now. I’m afraid no one will remember us. I want someone to remember.”
Such a small thing. But not really. One’s story was the essence of one’s life. “Tell me,” she said. “What is your story?”
Briareus told her of the creation by Cronus, being cast into Tartarus, and being rescued by Zeus. “We worked hard for him, my brothers and I, and we defeated the Titans. But the gods fear anything with power beyond their control. Those of us that weren’t defeated in the war became bound. When we protested, Zeus sent the demigods after us. Those that escaped the slaughter were again bound in Tartarus, or bound to a different form of torture.”
“Like filing library books.”
Briareus nodded.
“I’m sorry.”