I scattered the rest of the ashes at random around the forest in honor of the other gods, since I didn’t have any specific ideas for them. I thought about putting some for Athena on the roof of her house, but I didn’t want to risk getting caught by her father and I couldn’t wait until nightfall for the cover of darkness. I didn’t know what to do with the glass jar either, so I simply tossed it into the thick bushes, hoping it would be lost in time forever, or maybe a nymph would find a good use for it sometime in the future.
After that, I returned to the army camp. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, but without the gods and Jason, who had been running the Knowing base camp in Kentucky, I was left in charge. Lucky me.
I looked down and avoided everyone’s gaze as I made my way through the crowd, not exactly sure where I was going. I wasn’t sure it really mattered. Everyone around me was busy packing up their belongings and saying good-bye to new friends. All of the centaurs had already left the camp and had jumped across the rushing river, back into their own territory. Most of the satyrs and nymphs were staying in the forest, but I was surprised to see a couple of them starting to head out with the Knowing. I was a little bit disappointed, to tell the truth.
There was only one person—the outsider—who was not doing anything to aid in the packing.
With a grim look on his face, Cole hobbled over to me, gasping for air and clutching his sides in pain. His face was bruised in shades of blue and purple I didn’t even know existed, and blood from his broken nose was smeared across his cheeks and mouth in a way that could have been considered artistic if the colors were on an actual canvas. I had to remind myself that I was the artist. As his whole body began to shake, he said, “N—no hard feelings?”
I could tell that, like everyone else, Cole had been crying since his eyes were still puffy and red. He stuck out his hand for me to shake, but I chose not to respond. Instead, I settled with an exasperated sigh for dramatic effect and after a moment of tense silence, he continued anyway, “Because . . . well, you should know that I never really had a chance with Ashley. I realize that now. The two of us together . . . it wouldn’t have worked.”
“Athena,” I corrected him gravely, flashing back to a moment on her rooftop on the Fourth of July. “Her name was Athena. She didn’t like Ashley very much.”
Cole gulped and nodded. “See? I didn’t know that. But you did. I bet she always liked you, because you actually knew these things about her. You understood her better than anyone, except maybe Zach. You never needed to worry about me getting in the way of you two,” he told me truthfully yet cautiously, as if he were expecting me to blow up at him again.
But I stayed silent, thinking quietly to myself. This was the first time in a while that I felt even remotely like a normal teenager, arguing over a girl instead of who gets to kill the next monster that wandered by. With the gods, everything had been so serious and backward, including games. Sure, we would tease each other a bit, but we were always sarcastic, joking in a crude manner. And our jokes never lasted very long. Within seconds, our discussion would return to more serious topics, like monsters or the war. Whenever there really was “regular” drama of some kind, a fight of words often turned into a raging storm, a dangerous physical battle, or even a war, and none of those were even fun to watch.
At the same time, however, I knew Cole felt older than he had ever felt before. He had never experienced so much death, and it was definitely affecting him. Here he was, being a good person and trying to make up with his enemy, sort of. I just wished his life hadn’t come to this. I knew he was carefree at one point in his life, but he never would be again. The gods, Knowing about the monsters, and the Sighted life in general tend to have that effect on people.
Once he realized I wasn’t going to respond, Cole cleared his throat and nervously scratched his head. “Um, have you seen Jerome? I should probably thank him.”
I froze up immediately and echoed him in confusion, “Jerome?”
“Yeah. You know, the blond archer, probably around thirty?” Cole said with a shrug. “I sort of told him to follow you this morning and look for anything romantic going on between you and Ash—I mean, Athena. I know it was wrong, but—”
“Jerome is dead,” I cut off Cole angrily, realizing what all of this meant. I really had been “bait,” just like the prophecy had foretold.
But when Cole’s face went pale, I clenched my fists and started to quake involuntarily, fighting to refrain from placing even more guilt on his shoulders by telling him that the death of the gods was his entire fault. Frankly, I was surprised with myself for cutting him so much slack when he had caused me so much pain. Now, I just wanted him out of my life. I never wanted to set my eyes on him again.
“You’re going back to town now,” I told him harshly. “You’re going to forget all of this ever happened, and you’re going to continue living your life like you were before.”
“How can I go back and forget all of this? I just learned about it last night!” he exclaimed. “My parents will put me in a mental hospital! I’m sure of it.”
Cole paused to wipe blood off his nose, and I smirked, glad I had caused him pain. There was something about him that really set my teeth on edge. It was probably the fact that he killed all of my best friends. Indirectly, of course.
“Would you rather die instead?” I asked him emotionlessly. “I can do it quickly and painlessly. Athena trained me herself, you know, but I’m not sure this is what she would have wanted for you.”
Cole’s jaw dropped and his brown eyes were unblinking. “Dude, you are seriously messed up. Haven’t you already beaten me enough?” he questioned, and I shrugged; I was just being straightforward, practical even, and I hoped Athena might have offered him the same thing. After all, I had considered doing it to myself only hours earlier. Death was a simple and inevitable thing, often an act of loyalty, to the gods and me.
“Maybe you could just knock me out again and leave me by Main Street,” Cole suggested reluctantly. “Hopefully when I wake up, I won’t remember anything.” And after a bit more arguing, I agreed and enlisted the help of the Oracle.
Together, we headed east a few minutes later and when we finally reached Main Street, Cole asked, “Hey, one last thing before I forget all of this—have you ever thought about just shooting the monsters? Like with a gun. I’m sure it would be much easier than using a sword, and I know Ashley’s dad, Henry, has a couple.” The curious look on his innocent face told me that he had been waiting to ask this specific question ever since he had developed the Sight.
I frowned, glancing down at my sword in its leather sheath on my hip. “I’m not sure if that would work. Monsters are weird that way,” I mused slowly, scratching my head. “Besides, sword fighting is a Greek tradition and I love a challenge.” I finished with a nod, thinking that Athena would have said something along the same lines.
“There is a little bit of magic involved in the myths,” the Oracle agreed thoughtfully, a mysterious smile playing across her lips.
Two hours later, she and I had grilled Cole with so many questions at once that he didn’t even remember the gods and was convinced he had imagined almost all of the monsters. One swift punch and he was out like a light. Then I waited just inside the tree line for someone to pick Cole up and only a minute or two later, someone did. I bet you can guess who it was.
Henry, of course. (Apparently, the universe hadn’t finished torturing me.) But he didn’t just drag Cole back into the Fire Pit—he left an empty beer bottle at the base of the DANGER sign. There was a message inside.
As soon as he and Cole were gone, I quickly retrieved the bottle and sprinted away from any prying eyes of un-Knowing humans, back inside the forest for safety. Silently vowing to steer clear of alcohol for the rest of my life, I crinkled my nose at the terrible smell of the beer before I pulled out the tiny note to read it. Meet me in Ashley’s room at 5:00. Sounded okay to me; I had nothing to lose.
Since I wasn’t s
ure exactly what time it was but I knew it was relatively late, I decided to go meet Henry right away. Staying hidden, I followed the edge of the trees that ran along the flooded streets and arrived at Athena’s house just before sundown. I then took off my armor, stuffed the pieces in a hollow log, sprinted across the yard, and climbed up to her balcony like I used to do almost every night. Only this time I dreaded what awaited me.
For a while, I just stood outside, staring at the door and contemplating whether I should actually go in or not. I would reach out for the door handle, but then I’d pull my hand back abruptly. Over and over again. Why the hell is this so hard? I asked myself out of confusion, but I knew deep inside that I was really just scared of what Athena’s human father would say to me. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had been truly afraid like this. But, finally, I jerked open the door, knowing Athena would have wanted me to face him. I was supposed to be a hero, after all.
“Took you long enough to open that door,” her father’s gruff voice said, and I jumped, surprised to see him waiting for me, sitting on the edge of his daughter’s bed.
“I know. I’m so sorry, sir.” I knelt on my knees in front of him, bowing my head and avoiding his cold gaze as I fought back tears. I was determined to appear strong in front of him, to keep my last shreds of dignity after completely breaking down earlier. “I’m such an idiot. I should’ve—”
“You’re not an idiot,” he interrupted me, putting his hand on my shoulder. I was shaking so much. Why couldn’t I stop? “It’s okay, son. It’s not your fault.”
“But it is!” I exclaimed desperately. Why couldn’t he just admit that I was to blame? “You told me to protect her and I didn’t. I—I should’ve tried harder to help all of them.”
I tried to take deep breaths, but I just started to cough instead. Then I tried to wipe my eyes, but I accidentally smeared thick, red blood from my arm all over my face, and I slammed my fist against the bed frame in frustration. Her father saw the blood trickling down my arm and raised his eyebrows so he might have guessed I had been cutting myself, but he still didn’t say a word about it. I was grateful.
“Look, Alec,” Henry began, running his fingers through his light brown hair. “I haven’t known you for very long, but I can see that you’re tough and I can tell that you did everything you possibly could to save her. I mean, you’re covered in blood—and whatever that gold stuff is—so I know you put up a fight. You shouldn’t be ashamed of yourself. Now, you just need a little help before you bleed to death.”
“No, sir,” I argued, glaring at my shoes. “I’ll be fine. The blood on my back is . . . old.”
Okay, so maybe the blood seeping through my shirt actually was fresh from my reopened scars, but he didn’t need to know that. Henry still looked dubious, though, so I held up my arm and slowly ran my finger right over the three burning slits, keeping my face straight so as not to show my pain. “Only my arm is cut, and it doesn’t even hurt anymore. See?”
I finally looked up to meet his puffy eyes, and I could immediately tell that he had been crying, too. “Can I ask you something?” he asked, once he realized that trying to help me was a waste of time, and I nodded. “Did you love her?” I nodded again self-consciously, chewing my lip and wondering what he would say next. Would he be mad? Disappointed?
Henry let out a long, sad sigh. Stroking the stubble of a beard on his chin, tears welling in his eyes, he said, “She loved you too, kid. She loved you too— more than she loved me, at least.” He paused to guiltily cover his face in his hands, but I stayed silent because I knew now that what he said was true. “Besides the Monster Watch, you were the only boy she ever really brought home. That’s how I knew—knew she loved you, that is. I guess that’s why I sort of liked you. But my God. . . one day later and this happens?”
“I know, I know.” I was sniffling again. I couldn’t help it. “I saw her writing something in here, but I sh—should’ve stopped her and asked her about it. I never expected this, but for years, years, she knew. Way before she even met me, she knew something like this would happen. And she didn’t tell anyone.”
Damn the Fates, I thought to myself yet again since I couldn’t really blame the Oracle for simply delivering their plans in the form of a stupid prophecy. And I just couldn’t bring myself to be angry with Athena, either, for not telling me her biggest secret, because if I had been in her shoes, I probably would have done the exact same thing she did: let events play out the way they were meant to be.
It was quiet for a long time as both of us seemed frozen in time and place. Finally, her father stood up and whispered shakily, “Take anything you want from here—books, pictures, anything. It’s not like anyone else will use her stuff.” As if suddenly remembering something, he paused and strode over to Athena’s desk against the wall. There were papers strewn all over the place, and her supply of bandages was sticking out of the lower drawer, but somehow her desk still looked organized.
Her human father went straight for the top drawer and pulled out five leather journals exactly like the one Athena had been working on all summer. “You should take these. Maybe you can decipher them.” Henry handed me the journals and I opened them one at a time to find that they were all written in Greek, with dates on each page ranging from when she found out at age nine that she was a goddess to the days just before this summer. They were diary entries from the lost years of the Forest Gods, the years not mentioned in this book.
“Wow, this is amazing,” I said, mystified. I had no idea that those other journals even existed. “Thank you, sir. I could use these.” Hundreds of pages of her advice—ten times as much as she could fit in this one book—and happy stories from their golden days. Her journals were the greatest gifts I’d ever received, the best things to help me remember my friends.
“Anything else?” her father asked, and I quickly glanced around the room at the tall bookcases that completely covered each wall.
I was about to say no and just leave when a small photograph on one shelf caught my eye. It was a class picture from the gods’ last year of school in the next town over, Pine Grove. Only eighteen kids in the entire tenth grade and thirteen of them were gods. Talk about small towns.
In two rows, each god stood strong and proud and handsome, but the six other kids looked like fragile wimps in comparison. It was spooky, really, how the camera had managed to capture each god’s different personality in one shot. While Zeus, front and center next to Hera, had his head held high like a leader, Apollo was grinning playfully next to an overexcited Hermes. Aphrodite looked like she was posing for a magazine cover shoot, and Ares was daring someone to mess with him, his arms crossed. But most impressive to me was Athena, staring straight into the camera, now straight at me, with her steel gray eyes peeking out from under her cute side bangs, slightly narrowed in her signature intimidating fashion as if she knew exactly what I was thinking. Like I said, spooky.
I took the photo out of the frame, folded it up, and slid it into my pocket. “Thank you, sir,” I said yet again to Athena’s human father, and he nodded solemnly.
He then walked over to the window and looked out toward the lush, green forest on the other side of the street, his hunched back facing me. “Don’t mention it. Are you going to go back to where you came from now?” he asked sternly. He seemed genuinely concerned about me and I was quite surprised.
“It’s complicated,” I admitted, thinking about my dysfunctional family and the rest of the Knowing. “I don’t really have anyone to go back to, so I’ll probably stay in the forest for at least a little while longer.”
“Well,” Henry began, scratching his head, “if you ever need anything, you can come to me. I’ll leave the door unlocked—people in the Woods don’t usually lock them anyway—and if you ever need bandages or a safer place to sleep, come on in. Just make sure my wife doesn’t catch you here.” He paused again before he added under his breath, “And I’m going to try to stop drinking too—for Ashley—so you
don’t have to worry about that.”
I gulped and hesitated before I assured him, “Ashley would’ve been very proud of you, sir.” It was true.
He chuckled halfheartedly, still facing away from me. “I guess that forest really does make one more mature,” he mused, more to himself than to me. “You know, I always thought there were weird, bad things in there. I could swear I used to hear screams every once in a while, but lately I haven’t heard anything over these damn storms . . . I mean, you’d think all of those kids would’ve been smart enough to come inside when the lightning started flashing right over that wretched forest, right over their heads. Oh, do you see something else you like?” He had turned around again to find me pulling out two newspapers in glass frames, which had been hidden behind a bookcase.
“These are from the first week the Monster Watch went in?” It wasn’t really a question, though, as I was studying the headlines. “Out of the Woods,” “The Woods Gets a Monster Watch,” and “Monster Watch Sparks New Week of Tragedy” were among the front-page stories. But it wasn’t the cute pictures of them as kids that caught my eye—it was the ages of two people in the list of missing persons from that terrible week when more people tried to beat the odds but couldn’t.
The two youngest on the list were a boy and a girl, both aged six, the same age as the Monster Watch had been at that time. For some reason, a thought of Hades and Persephone automatically popped into my mind. I remembered when Athena said that all of the gods had found out they were gods within twenty-four hours (at age nine), but the very first time they had come into memorable, direct contact with Hades and Persephone inside the forest was just earlier this summer. This meant that the two had run away together and lived deep inside the woods for three full years before someone—probably the Oracle, after she first delivered the prophecy—told them they were gods, when they would have been forced into the Underworld.
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