Everyone knew that Cassandra was reminding them that the same level of devotion was expected from the newly ordained priests and priestesses of Apollo. Jason and Ariadne had been raised to deal with these kinds of expectations. Matt and Claire paused to think about it. Helen watched her two oldest friends give each other worried looks. When they both seemed to steel themselves, she couldn’t help but feel proud.
Helen glanced around the room, thinking to herself how freaking awesome her friends were, when her eyes landed on Jason. He was looking at Claire like she had just canceled Christmas. When he saw that Helen was watching him, he looked away quickly, but he still looked pale to Helen.
“What we really need are the Lost Prophecies.” Cassandra started pacing.
“Wouldn’t that make them the ‘Found’ Prophecies?” Matt quipped.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Claire said, ignoring the bad pun. “What are the Lost Prophecies?”
“It’s a mystery,” Jason answered with a shake of his head. “They’re supposed to be a collection of the prophecies that Cassandra of Troy made right before and during the ten years of the Trojan War. But no one knows what’s in them.”
“That’s big. How’d they get lost?” Claire asked.
“Cassandra of Troy was cursed by Apollo to always prophesy with perfect clarity—not easy by the way—but to never be believed,” Cassandra said distractedly.
Helen remembered the story, even though it was just a small part of the Iliad. Apollo fell in love with Cassandra of Troy right before the war. When she told him that she wanted to remain a virgin and rejected his advances, he cursed her. A dickhead move if ever there was one.
“Apollo’s curse made everyone think Cassandra was crazy. The priests still kept records of what she foresaw during the war, but they didn’t think they were very important. Most of them got misplaced or only parts of them survived,” Ariadne said with downcast eyes as if her ancestors embarrassed her. “That’s why all the prophecies about the Tyrant are so spotty. No modern Scion has been able to find them all.”
“What a waste,” Matt said darkly. “I wonder how many times the gods have gotten away with something criminal like that, just because they could.”
Ariadne’s head snapped around at Matt’s sharp tone. She was surprised to hear him speak so passionately, but Helen had seen this side of Matt before. He had always hated bullies. He’d had a thing about tough guys throwing their weight around for as long as Helen could remember. It was one of the main reasons he wanted to be lawyer. Matt thought powerful people should protect the weak, not beat up on them, and Helen could see the same childhood anger against injustice seething in Matt again at the thought of Apollo cursing a young girl because she wouldn’t have sex with him.
Helen had to admit that Matt had a point. Most of the time, the gods seemed like big, supernatural bullies. Helen wondered why humans had ever worshiped them at all. As she puzzled over this, her phone buzzed again.
“Orion says he figured the diary was a long shot because it’s really stupid,” Helen read aloud. His next text made her burst out laughing. “He just called Marc Antony a flaming twit.”
“Aw, really? That’s too bad,” Ariadne said, flapping her incredibly long eyelashes in disappointment. “Antony always seemed so romantic on paper.”
“Shakespeare can make anyone look good,” Matt said, smiling to see that Ariadne’s budding crush on a dead guy had been quashed. He turned to Helen. “You know, it’s really nice to see you laugh, Lennie.”
“Well, it is Friday night. I figured, what the heck?” Helen joked, but no one laughed. Everyone but Cassandra was staring at her expectantly. “What?” she finally demanded when the silence dragged on too long.
“Nothing,” Claire answered, slightly annoyed. She stood and stretched, signaling that the night was over as far as she was concerned. Taking her cue, Cassandra left the room without even saying good-bye. Everyone else stood and started to gather their things.
“Do you want to stay and watch a movie?” Jason asked Claire hopefully. He looked around to include everyone in his invitation. “It is Friday.”
Matt glanced over at Ariadne. She smiled and encouraged him to stay, and then everyone looked at Helen. She didn’t want to go home alone, but she knew she couldn’t bear to sit in a dark room with two hormonally fraught not-quite couples.
“I’ll be asleep before the popcorn is out of the microwave,” Helen lied, and forced a laugh. “You guys have fun, but I think I should rest.”
No one argued with her or tried to convince her to stay. As Helen walked outside, she wondered if they didn’t put up a bigger fight because they knew she needed to sleep, or because they didn’t want her around. She couldn’t blame them if they wanted her gone—no one likes a fifth wheel, and a heartbroken fifth wheel is even worse.
Taking in a lungful of the crisp autumn air, she turned her face to the clear night sky with the intention of taking flight. Her eyes were drawn to the three bright stars of Orion’s Belt, and she smiled at the constellation, thinking, “Hey, dude” in her mind.
She had the sudden urge to walk home instead of fly. It was far, nearly the entire length of the island from ’Sconset to her house, but these days she was used to spending hours wandering around in the dark. Helen stuffed her fists into her pockets and started trudging down the road without a second thought. Glancing at the sky, she realized that what she really wanted was to be with Orion, even if this Orion was just a bunch of chilly stars. She missed him.
Helen was halfway down Milestone Road, wondering if anyone would think she was crazy if they caught her out walking clear across the dark interior of the island in the middle of the night, when her phone buzzed. The number was blocked. For a moment she wondered if it was Orion. She answered quickly, hoping it was him. When she heard Hector’s voice on the other end she was so startled that she could barely stammer out a greeting.
“Helen? Shut up and listen to me,” Hector interrupted with his usual directness. “Where are you?”
“Well, I’m walking home right now. Why, what’s up?” she asked, more curious than offended by his abrupt tone.
“Walking? From where?”
“Your house. I mean, your old house.” She bit her lower lip, hoping she hadn’t said something stupid.
“Why aren’t you flying?” He was practically shouting at her.
“Because I wanted to take a . . . Wait, what the hell is going on?”
Hector quickly explained that Daphne had confronted Tantalus and then been injured and lost at sea for over a day. He told her how it had taken Daphne three days to recover enough to be able to tell Hector about the Myrmidon parked outside Helen’s front door.
Helen knew she should have been worried about her mother, but she heard the word mur-ma-don and had to stop Hector to ask what that was.
“Did you even read the Iliad? You didn’t, did you?” Hector admonished, his voice rising again. Helen could picture Hector’s face turning purple with frustration.
“Of course I read it!” she insisted.
Hector cussed loudly and then explained as calmly as he could that the Myrmidons were the elite warriors that fought with Achilles during the Trojan War, and Helen put it together. She was familiar with Achilles’ special squad of nightmare soldiers; she had just never heard the word pronounced properly before. Myrmidons weren’t human, but ants transformed into men by Zeus.
“The creepy guy that attacked us at my track meet!” Helen exclaimed, covering her mouth with a hand. She finally understood why the leader of the group, the captain Helen suddenly realized, had bothered her so much—because he was really an it. “I thought soldier ants were all female,” Helen added, confused.
“Yeah, and I thought ants looked like ants and humans looked like humans,” Hector said drily. “Don’t be fooled, Helen. That thing isn’t a man, and it definitely doesn’t have the same feelings we do. Not to mention the fact that it’s enormously strong and it has thousands of year
s of battle experience.”
Helen thought about a program she’d seen on TV about ants. They could march for days, lift loads hundreds of times their weight, and some of them were unbelievably aggressive.
Looking up and down the dark, cold road, Helen suddenly wished that Hector was with her, even if he was a grouchy pain in the ass 90 percent of the time. She also wished she had paid better attention to him when he was punching her in the face. At least then she’d know how to fight.
“So what do I do?” Helen asked as she tried to look everywhere at once.
“Get airborne. It can’t fly. You’re usually safer in the air, Helen. Try to remember that from now on, okay?” he coached. “Go back to the family and tell them what I told you. Then stay there with Ariadne. She’ll keep you safe. Lucas and Jason will find the nest, and my father and uncle will probably have to go to New York to bring this issue before the Hundred. After that, Cassandra will make the decisions. You should be fine.”
Like the great general he was always meant to be, Hector could plan every moment of a confrontation. Still, Helen didn’t think he sounded very convincing when he promised her safety.
“You’re really afraid of this Myrmidon, aren’t you?” Helen asked as she got airborne.
The thought that Hector was afraid of anything frightened Helen more than the empty road in front of her. She heard him sigh heavily.
“Myrmidons have been used as contract killers for Scions for thousands of years. Apart from the House of Rome, which has its own loophole for kin-killing, if a Scion wants to kill a relative without becoming Outcast, he or she goes to a Myrmidon. Of course, this isn’t something we like to talk about. Myrmidons are a part of our world, and not all of them are dishonorable killers. But some are. They’re physically stronger than we are, and they don’t have the Furies to worry about. Using one to spy on your own family is a red flag that someone is about to get assassinated, and it gives my father and uncle the right to call for a formal, closed meeting of the Hundred. Something called a Conclave.”
“But that’s good, right?” Helen asked nervously. “Castor and Pallas can call for this Conclave thingy and get rid of it, right?”
“If they can prove you’re Ajax’s daughter and part of the family, the Hundred would make Tantalus get rid of the Myrmidon. If they can’t, well, then you’re just a member of the House of Atreus to the Hundred, and in their minds you’re a target. But I don’t know what they’ll do. I’m not there, am I?” He sounded more sorry than bitter, like he felt he needed to apologize to Helen for leaving her alone when she was in danger, which was totally insane. He was in exile. Before she could argue, Hector continued in a hassled voice. “Just do exactly what I tell you, and then I’ll be less afraid. All right?”
“All right,” she promised, already feeling guilty because she knew she wasn’t going to keep that promise.
She and Hector spoke briefly about Daphne, although he wouldn’t tell her where they were. He assured Helen that her mother was going to make a full recovery and then promised to get in touch again when he could.
After disconnecting the call, Helen flew to her side of the island to look for the “nest” on her own. She wanted to at least locate it and make sure that her dad was okay. Then she wanted to be the one to decide if it was dangerous or not. Helen wasn’t five. She was competent enough to scout out the situation and decide for herself if it was worth raising the alarm. Besides, she wasn’t exactly helpless. She had the cestus to keep her from harm and her lightning to knock it out if it got feisty. If that Ant-man came anywhere near her or Jerry, she’d toast it first and think up an excuse to tell her dad later.
Scouring the neighborhood, Helen pictured the nest as a big, webby structure, and assumed it would stick out easily. Nothing caught her eye. She was just about to give up when she noticed that halfway up the side of her neighbor’s house and partly obscured behind a gigantic rhododendron bush, there seemed to be a tiny bulge, like the wall was ever so slightly ballooning out.
It was so subtle Helen knew that her mortal neighbors wouldn’t be able to see the difference. The nest was perfectly camouflaged to look exactly like a large patch of shingle siding on the house, right down to the texture and color. The Myrmidon had even masked the bulge it made by spacing the fake shingling to create an optical illusion.
Helen stared at the nest for a few moments, her pulse pounding in her ears, waiting to see if it moved. When she didn’t hear even the slight sound of an occupant breathing inside the slim pocket, she decided it was safe to check it out. She blew on her sweaty palms to dry them, told herself to stop being a baby, and soared close, until she was right alongside it. The nest was made out of some kind of cement-like material that was designed with lots of little peepholes. As she suspected, most of those holes faced her house directly. From that angle, she could even see part of the way inside her bedroom.
The hairs on the back of her neck were starting to prickle with the thought of some giant bug watching her undress, when she heard a chittering noise below her.
Helen soared feetfirst to a safer height. Like an arrow flying backward, she gained altitude while keeping her eyes glued to ground, to see where the noise had come from. Staring up at her from her neighbor’s lawn was the same skeletal face and red, bulging eyes she had seen in the battle in the woods. Its head twitched blindingly fast, like it swiveled atop a stalk instead of on a neck, and that slight but startling motion was enough to break Helen’s nerve. She flew across the island and landed at the Delos compound a moment later.
Walking quickly to the dark front door, Helen realized how late it was. Everyone had gone to sleep. She looked in the silent windows and shifted from foot to foot, feeling strange about ringing the bell and waking up the whole house at two o’clock in the morning. After all, she wasn’t in any immediate danger. From what Hector had said, the Myrmidon had been watching her for weeks and it hadn’t attacked yet. Helen wondered if she shouldn’t just go home, deal with the nest on her own, and tell her cousins about it in the morning.
She heard a thud behind her and spun around, her heart in her throat.
“What are you doing out here?” Lucas asked in a harsh whisper, adjusting the pull of gravity on his body as he transitioned states. He immediately began walking toward her forcefully. His face changed into a frozen mask of surprise as he registered Helen’s anxious state. From the way she was glancing around, wringing her hands, he could tell it had nothing to do with him. “What happened?” he demanded.
“I . . .” she began breathlessly, then broke off when a disturbing thought distracted her. “Are you just getting home now? Where were you?”
“I was out,” he said tersely. Lucas took a few more steps toward her until he was close enough that she had to tilt her head up to look at him, but she refused to give him any ground. She was done with being afraid of him. “Now answer my question. What happened to you?”
“Hector called. Daphne learned that Tantalus sent a Myrmidon to watch me. The thing just caught me snooping around its nest, like, two seconds ago.”
Without warning, Lucas reached out and grabbed Helen by the waist, and threw her straight up into the air. She released herself from gravity as a reflex, and on the momentum of Lucas’s toss, she soared twenty, then thirty, then forty feet up. Lucas rocketed past, catching her by the hand. He pulled her behind him at an unbelievable speed. Helen’s ears popped with the pressure of the mini–sonic boom that she and Lucas created.
“Where’s the nest? Near my house?” he yelled frantically over the rushing wind.
“At my neighbor’s. Lucas, stop!” Helen was frightened, not of him, but that they were moving so fast. He slowed and faced her, but he didn’t stop entirely or let go of her hand. Flying in close, he looked her directly in the eye, searching for a lie.
“Did it sting you?”
“No.”
“Did Hector tell you to go look for its nest on your own?” His words came so quickly she barely had
time to process what he was saying.
Helen’s head hurt and her vision swam. They were up so high the air was dangerously thin. Not even demigods could survive space, and Lucas had brought Helen right to the edge.
“Hector said not to go near it . . . but I wanted to see for myself before I made everyone panic. Lucas, we have to get lower!” she pleaded.
Lucas looked down at Helen’s chest and saw it bellowing in and out as she struggled for oxygen. He drifted nearer, and she felt him share the slip of air he had wrapped around himself with her. A gust of oxygen brushed gently past her face. She inhaled, and instantly felt better.
“We can call more breathable air to ourselves, but you need to relax first,” Lucas said. He sounded like himself again.
“How high are we?” She stared at him, shocked that he was being kind to her. She didn’t know what else to say.
“Look down, Helen.”
Overwhelmed, she followed his gaze to the view beneath them.
For a moment, she and Lucas floated weightless above the slowly spinning Earth, just looking at it. Black sky edged the white-and-blue haze of atmosphere swaddling the planet. The silence and the bleakness of space only served to emphasize how precious, how miraculous their little island of life truly was.
It was the most beautiful thing Helen had ever seen, but she couldn’t fully enjoy it. If ever she came this high again, she knew would always recall that Lucas had brought her here first. Now this, too, was something they shared. She was so confused she wanted to cry. Entirely by chance, Lucas had claimed yet another piece of real estate in her mind, and he was the one who had ordered her to stay away from him.
“Why bother to show me this? Or teach me anything at all?” Helen said, choking on the words. “You hate me.”
“I never said that.” His voice held no emotion.
“We should go down,” she said, forcing her eyes away from his face. This wasn’t fair. She couldn’t let him toy with her like this.
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