Reborn

by Stacy, S. L.

  The last text message is from an unfamiliar number:

  hi this is sam. jasper told me about the blind date thing and i'd love to take victoria. let me know the details. thnx

  Sam? Perfect. Jasper may have gone overboard with the whole Anna and Dr. Mars pairing, but a Sam-Victoria set up kills two birds with one stone: Victoria gets a date, and as president it gives her an opportunity to build a relationship with Sigma Iota’s president. Okay, I guess thinking of it that way zaps all of the romance out of it, but it’s not like my big sister’s looking for a boyfriend, anyway.

  While I’m on my phone, I google ambrosia and follow the first link to its Wikipedia article. I’m right: “Ambrosia was considered to be the food or drink of the Olympian gods, thought to bestow immortality.” Of course, that’s in Greek mythology—maybe it’s really some kind of supplement or drug to them. The bus pulls up to the stop on campus, so I put my phone away and join the line of students waiting to get off.

  Despite the morning shower, my gross-feeling increases as the day wears on, but I avoid going home until lab is over at five. As I creep into the sorority house, I hear the hum of voices behind Farrah’s closed door. I carefully take off my shoes and tiptoe toward the stairs, but just as my foot touches the first step, Farrah’s door swings open, and she herds the entire executive board into the living room. Victoria sees me first, her eyes bugging out of her face.

  “There you are!” she exclaims. “Where were you last night? We were worried about you.”

  “Apparently not worried enough to not have a secret meeting in Farrah’s room,” I point out. Victoria grinds her lips together before opening her mouth to reply, but Farrah’s sharp voice cuts her off.

  “In here,” she says. A furious scowl twists her lovely face. “Now.”

  Chapter 22

  My sisters watch me walk to Farrah’s room as slowly as a criminal walking toward the electric chair. Once I’m inside she slams the door behind us.

  “I let you off the hook last time,” Farrah hisses, getting right to the point. “And what do you do? You must have complete disregard for authority.”

  “Just yours,” I fire back. “Why should I follow your rules? Why should I trust you? I know who you are.” I don’t know if I’m being brave or stupid, but I continue, “You’re the one who killed me.”

  Farrah’s answering smile is smug. “I see my son has told you some things. What exactly has he said to you?”

  “That he and I were husband and wife, once, back on Olympus. When I was Psyche,” I reply, my bravado faltering. “He said you were always jealous of me and murdered me.” Amusement mingles with pity on Farrah’s features, making me second-guess myself. Is it all a lie—has Jasper actually tricked me into thinking I’m a reincarnated goddess?

  I’m not doing a very good job of concealing my doubt from Farrah because next she assures me, “Oh, no, that’s all true. But did he tell you why he’s here? On Earth?”

  Flooded with relief, I nod earnestly. “He told me he came back for me.” This makes Farrah burst out into uproarious laughter. “What’s so funny?”

  Farrah wipes a tear from her eye. “And humans think we’re conceited? You foolish girl. Eros didn’t come here for you.”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” she continues, perching on her bed. She gestures for me to sit down in her desk chair. “Now that he’s been reunited with you, his desire to repair your relationship is sincere. My son has always been inexplicably drawn to you.” I balk at her emphasis on “inexplicably,” but she doesn’t give me a chance to be offended. “But as far as he knew, you were dead. No, something else brought him to Earth—something he wouldn’t want his precious butterfly to know about.

  “Let me back up. It’s time for a little history lesson.” Her sick joy over my seeming naiveté vanishes, replaced with gravity. “I’m about to change your view of your world and its history. Are you ready for that?”

  Can a person ever be ready for that? I nod anyway.

  “This isn’t the first time my people have visited this planet,” she begins. “In fact, we used to visit Earth regularly. The Ancient Greeks called us gods to try to explain our superior intellect and abilities. We gave them a nudge here and there to keep their intellectual and technological progress moving.

  “But many of us interfered in other ways—myself included, although I’m not proud of it.” Her neutral tone of voice doesn’t betray whether she means this or is merely trying to make herself look good for my benefit. “We tricked them. Seduced them. Finally many of us realized that it would be in humankind’s best interests if we left and allowed humans to develop on their own. But still, a few of us resisted. They didn’t think there was any harm in toying with you. They believed humankind was and always would be inferior.

  “With the help of our human allies, those of us who wanted to cut all ties with Earth were able to seal the portals between our worlds.” She stops to consider me, as if waiting for my reaction, but I sit unmoving with my hands folded in my lap, my face stoic. “As you may have already worked out, we left a little something behind: our DNA. Hundreds of thousands of little demigods, so to speak, running around Earth. Blind to their Olympian heritage because only exposure to a specific compound from my world awakens it.”

  Ambrosia. Jasper must have had some of it on his hand the night we found him. At the mixer he acted like he had given me something back, bestowed this gift upon me, when really all the ambrosia did was turn my silent, Olympian DNA back on. At last Jimmy’s self-healing ability makes sense—he and Anna must be part Olympian, too. “What does this have to do with Jasper’s return?” To my chagrin, I choke on the question, giving away how deeply her chilling rewrite of history is affecting me. I wish she’d stop the build up and get to the point.

  “My son was…distraught after your death.” Farrah chooses the wording after a lengthy pause in which she again appears perplexed over the depth of his feeling for me. “He was hopeless. Morose. I guess you could say he started hanging out with the wrong crowd. Rumors circulated around Olympus that some of the young people were plotting a rebellion, but the other Elders and I didn’t take them seriously. The rumors mostly involved troubled siblings Apate and Dolos—none of their peers actually sided with them. Finally they, along with Eros, figured out how to cross over to Earth, breaking our sacred promise to no longer interfere with this world.

  “We were forced to send a few others across to find out what they were doing here. From the intelligence we’ve been able to gather, it looks like they’re awakening the demigods to build an army—an army they can bring back to Olympus to overthrow Zeus and Hera.”

  My first instinct is to scoff at this ridiculous story, but then I remember Genie’s gills and scaly skin, the group coming out of Jasper’s office and the bottle of ambrosia in his bathroom.

  I cross my arms over my chest and raise my eyebrows in skepticism. “Why should I believe you? You killed me, and you enjoyed it. You really expect me to believe you give a crap about Earth?”

  “I’ve always had a soft-spot for humans, especially the halflings—it’s you I don’t like,” she clarifies, her jade eyes narrowing at me. “And yes, I liked killing you—I enjoyed it immensely—but I only gave into the urge because I suspected you’d come back.” This gets another eyebrow raise out of me.

  “Every Olympian has a quality, an essence unique to them,” Farrah explains. “It’s why humans used us to explain or personify certain concepts. Usually a demigod inherits the essence of his or her ancestor, but yours seems to be unique—or at least we don’t know who your power originated from.” Farrah’s lip twitches. “I bet that pleases you, knowing you’re special.” She couldn’t be more wrong. My wings never made me feel special—just lonely.

  “Your essence is that of the spirit, the soul. When an Olympian dies, she simply vanishes.” Farrah snaps her fingers on the last word. “Same goes for the demigods. We don’t have souls. Except for you. I thought you might come back. You
’re a biology major. Think of it as an experiment.”

  “An experiment?” I repeat through gritted teeth, but then I think about all the E. coli, Drosophila flies and other lesser organisms I’ve tampered with in bio lab.

  “I’m not planning a second trial, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Farrah says, although her voice doesn’t sound too reassuring. “Even if I was, I wouldn’t off you just yet. I need you.”

  I hesitate before asking, “Why?”

  “To help Hephaestus and me send Eros back to Olympus.”

  “What?”

  “He loves you. Trusts you. He won’t expect you to turn on him.”

  “Why should I help you prevent rebellion on your world?” I ask. “I barely remember Olympus. I don’t care what happens there.”

  “He’s bringing Earth into what should be a war amongst Olympians,” she says almost in exasperation. “Brainwashing humans to fight his battle for him in exchange for awakening their Olympian heritage—bringing them as close to immortality as any being can come.

  “You won’t be alone,” she adds. “Your Gamma Lambda Phi sisters will be there to help you.”

  “Wait.” I close my eyes for a moment, an ache blossoming on my forehead, probably from information overload. “What does my sorority have to do with this?” I ask, looking at her again.

  “Some of your sisters are descendants of Nike. They helped her seal the connections between Earth and Olympus those many years ago. Today, only a select few of the women at Headquarters know about Gamma Lambda Phi’s original purpose: to guard the connections and keep them sealed.” I think back to the bronze chalice filled with water, the unusual ceremony we practiced after our chapter meeting:

  Where the fabric wears thin/And our enemy’s at hand/We must thrust him back/Into his own land…

  “The girls you kicked out,” I recall. “They’re normal humans.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Kind of sounds like ethnic cleansing, or something.”

  For once, Farrah looks genuinely offended. “I’m trying to protect them. The task ahead of us may be dangerous—I don’t want to endanger human lives.”

  “Your sisters will perform the ceremony.” She ignores my distrusting stare and gets back to the plan. “All you have to do is get Jasper to come with you to the house.” Farrah gets up and crouches down in front of me. I instinctively push back in the chair. “What do you think? Will you help us?”

  I swallow hard over the lump congealing in my throat. “I need some time to think about it,” I tell her quietly. Despite Jasper’s lies, his secrets, I’m not sure I like where this is going. How can I use his feelings for me against him? That would make me no better than him—than any of them.

  “I understand,” Farrah insists in a tone suggesting she doesn’t understand, at all. She rises to her feet. “As soon as you decide, let me know.” She walks to the door, hinting that our meeting is over, but I have one last question.

  “What about his followers?” I press. I recall the look of reverence on Liz’s face, and her calling Jasper Master. “How can we make them see what Jasper and his friends are doing is wrong?”

  “I think once we’ve sent them back, restored order between our worlds, the people Eros, Apate and Dolos have transitioned will be easy to convince.”

  I shake my head. “How could that be easy? Who wouldn’t want to be more Olympian than human if they could? More beautiful, stronger, just…better. Who would turn down immortality?”

  Farrah twists the knob and pushes the door open. “Trust me, Siobhan—you don’t really want to be like us. Despite our obvious strengths, we have manipulative tendencies. Even when we’re well-meaning, we only end up causing upheaval.”

  Thankfully over the next several days, I don’t have to make up excuses to avoid seeing Jasper outside of class; he’s preoccupied taking over Dr. Mars’s schedule while the history professor is away. The absence of beard and brawn at the front of the classroom leaves a gaping hole that even Jasper can’t fill. There’s a knot in my stomach that only grows tighter with each passing day that doesn’t bring the return of Eric and Anna. I believe what I told Peter at The End: I don’t know how Eric fits into all this, but he’s taken Anna to Olympus. I highly doubt there are cell towers there; Anna has no way to let me or her brother know she’s safe.

  In the meantime, I immerse myself in homework and the sorority, especially preparations for Friday’s Find Your Sister a Mister dance. I can’t really say I’m surprised that Jimmy hasn’t texted or called me after our argument. At the end of Friday’s World Myth’s class, I take out my phone for the hundredth time to message him, but just like the last ninety nine times, end up staring at his name on the screen instead before tucking my phone back in my purse.

  “Siobhan!” I feel the light but desperate touch of Jasper’s hand on my arm as I’m leaving the auditorium. “I’ve tried to catch up to you every day after class, but you always seemed like you were in a hurry. Sure you’re not avoiding me?” he asks playfully.

  I answer with a laugh, albeit a nervous one. “This week has just been crazy. Planning this dance has taken over my life.”

  “Sounds like you need a break. I want to take you out tonight.” He takes my hand in his, and the tender brush of his fingers sends a tingle of anticipation throughout my entire body. “Dinner, just the two of us.”

  I shake my head. “Like I was saying, the dance is tonight. You can be my date, if you want,” I add. I already know he won’t because Farrah is chaperoning. Just as I expected, he grimaces.

  “Come out with me instead.” Today his eyes are the color of shining sapphires rather than the blue-black of a night sky. I quickly look down at our entwined hands, unable to look into his eyes without falling.

  “I can’t. I really have to be at the dance. Speaking of which—” I release his hand—“I should get going. There’s a lot to do.”

  “Tomorrow, then. I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” He says it with a mischievous smile, but his eyes have clouded over again. I give a start as he sweeps by me without waiting for my response. Pushing through the double doors, I leave Frasier Hall and walk out into the dry but gray late morning, the sky a thick stew of charcoal storm clouds. As soon as I open the door to the sorority house, I hear panicked footsteps coming down the stairs and Victoria’s manic voice.

  “Siobhan, I hope that’s you!” She runs up to me, waving a packet of papers in my face.

  “Panhel just called,” she gasps. “They claim Liz never turned in the paperwork to approve our third party vendor.”

  “Does that mean we won’t be able to drink?” I hadn’t noticed Tanya sprawled on the couch, a text book open on her lap. The book slides to the floor as she bolts upright.

  “What does Liz have to say about this?” I wonder.

  “Liz isn’t answering her phone. They’re letting us turn it in last minute, but I need you to help me fill out and sign the forms,” Victoria tells me.

  “Of course.” I pluck the packet from her hand and settle down at the kitchen table, uncapping a pen as I skim the front page. “Organization,” I read out loud, scribbling Gamma Lambda Phi on the corresponding line. “Name of venue…number attending…event ID number. What the heck is that?”

  Victoria comes up behind me and leans over my shoulder, reading silently. “Don’t worry about it. I think that’s something Panhel assigns.”

  I skip over it and go to the next line. I can still sense Victoria’s head floating next to mine. “You’re in my bubble, Big.”

  “I’m not trying to make out with you,” she jokes lightly, standing up straight. A frown flickers at the corners of her mouth as she walks around the side of the table. “If you don’t need me for this, I’ll go help Carly load her car.”

  I flip through the rest of the pages. “I think I’m good. Thanks,” I say as I write down the name of the vendor. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Victoria hesitate before turning around and calling her ro
ommate’s name on the way upstairs.

  I fill out the rest of the forms to the tune of the front door squeaking open and close as Carly and Victoria go back and forth carrying boxes of streamers, balloons, table cloths and foil centerpieces out to the car. Once I’ve finished, I have to wait over an hour for Panhel’s risk manager to get out of class so she can meet me to sign off on them. This leaves me with probably the only chance I’ll have to get ready, so I shower, slip into my strapless red cocktail dress, and curl my hair. Panhel approves the forms later that afternoon, and Carly and I head over to the Riverfront Bar and Grill to put the final touches on the room.

  “We’re almost there,” Carly announces, switching her foot to the accelerator and rolling through the green light onto the Beaumont Bridge. The twenty minute drive feels like it’s taking an hour. “Stop it, Thumper.”

  I tear my gaze away from the window, where I’ve been watching the pewter waters of the Ohio River rush endlessly underneath the bridge. “Stop what?”

  “That.” She points to my left leg, which is bouncing so furiously you’d think I was on my way to take the MCATs. I place a firm hand on my thigh to stop it.

  As we pull up, I see Tanya and the other committee members sitting outside the restaurant. She and four other girls are crammed on an iron bench. A fall of blonde hair hides Tanya’s face as her fingers fly over the keypad of her phone. Propped against the bench beside her is the banner we put up every year, rolled up into a snug white tube. The rest of the girls are sitting on the sidewalk, surrounded by boxes brimming with red and black crepe paper and deflated balloons. Bubbling voices and laughter float through the open car window. I get out before Carly even has the chance to turn the car off.

  “What the heck have you been doing here this whole time?” I explode as I stalk up to them. “You haven’t put a damn thing up!” I peer over at Tanya’s phone screen, which is lit up with rows of jewel-colored digital candies. “Are you playing ‘Sugar Rush?!’”