Sweet Legacy (Sweet Venom)

by Tera Lynn Childs

  “Put that aside,” he says, brushing my arm away. “You have initiated the prophecy. We are no longer enemies.”

  I blink several times. “What?”

  “Now,” he says, gesturing at the swirling vortex that is the door, “we face the same foe.”

  Almost as soon as he says that, monsters start climbing out of the abyss, two, four, even six at a time. If we don’t act fast, we’ll be outnumbered before we can get our first bites in. My sisters and I dive forward as the rest of our friends and supporters come to our aid. Fangs bared, we start venoming beasties, not bothering to care about pulse points or bite placement. We send them back as fast as we can, while our support army slashes venom-dipped weapons into the ones that get through our line of defense. Creatures are coming out in greater numbers than we can stop, even with the extra help.

  This is a losing battle.

  “Oh no,” Grace says. “Look!”

  I turn to see where she’s pointing. Through the battlefield, between the clash of blades, teeth, and fur, I see a legion of hypnotized humans approaching from the other side. There must be hundreds of them.

  All of this to defeat three teenage girls.

  How will we ever fight them? How can we defeat them without killing them? We’re trapped between innocent humans and a sea of monsters flooding through the door.

  For the first time, I have real doubts that we will succeed.

  “Perhaps I can help.”

  Spinning to my left, I find myself face-to-face with the oracle, here, now, after we’ve been looking for her for so long. My first instinct is to hug her. My second is to punch her. She has been missing for how long? And now is the time she decides to make her grand reappearance.

  Better late than never.

  “Please,” I say as a monster grabs me from behind. I pull its arm toward my mouth. “Do whatever you can.”

  As I sink my fangs into to the beastie’s wrist, the oracle walks off into the crowd. Magically, no one touches her. It’s like she’s invisible—or wearing an invisible force field.

  Then I’m too busy fighting monsters to watch her progress.

  CHAPTER 33

  GREER

  When the woman in billowing robes shows up, Gretchen looks like she wants to throttle her—and I’m relieved that, for once, I’m not the one on the receiving end of that look. But then Gretchen goes back to fighting and the woman walks off into the crowd.

  I’m busy trying to get my bite in on an onocentaur, but I keep my eye on the woman. There is something mystical about her, magical. I’m drawn to her, wanting to follow her when I know I should be fighting at my sisters’ sides.

  We share a gift, the woman’s voice says in my mind, something we shall discuss when this battle is over and my pendant has been returned.

  I gasp. The voice in my head—the woman gliding through the battle—is the oracle.

  I should have guessed. Who else would be able to maintain that connection? Who else would know so much about the situation, about me and my sisters, and be able to help us figure out what we had to do?

  Who else would have remained so mysteriously anonymous?

  I watch as she reaches the edge, the line between our people and the hypnotized human army they are trying to hold back without causing any harm. Lifting her hands out to her sides, she shouts something at them, and then, in a flash, all the humans stop.

  For a second, I’m afraid she killed them all, they’re so still—Gretchen will be furious. But then, gradually, they start moving, shaking their heads and looking around, confused.

  Coming out of their hypnosis.

  The ordinary humans breaking free of the monster-induced trance don’t see the beasts in their true form. They see them as other humans, fighting and clawing at each other like alley cats. They must think they’ve landed in the middle of the biggest brawl San Francisco’s ever seen. Suddenly realizing that there’s an epic fistfight going on around them—one they don’t know how they wound up trapped in the middle of—most of them turn and run. A few scream. The rest back slowly away.

  Then the humans are gone, and it’s just us against gods and monsters.

  Though we have more gods on our side, the monsters outnumber us by a factor of ten, with more emerging—and reemerging—from the abyss every second. Unless something changes, we might be fighting a losing battle.

  I don’t like to lose.

  I turn back to the door, determined to find a way to turn the tide, just in time to see Gretchen’s little monkey friend leaping through.

  “Sillus here!” he shouts as he lands on the ground near her feet. “Bring help.”

  Behind him, our friends from the abyss follow—the golden maiden, the oceanid who led us to Mount Olympus, the big onyx guards, the unicorn, and dozens more.

  Behind them, a ragged group steps through the door. In the lead is the gaunt man from the dungeons of Olympus, that prisoner Gretchen spoke with when we were looking for the gorgons.

  He and Gretchen exchange nods, and I think I understand. We freed them, and that has earned us their loyalty. They will fight by our sides.

  Most of the newcomers are immediately drawn into the battle, turning to face the continual stream of monsters pouring through the open door. I’m shocked to see my friendly school janitor—the big fuzzy spider—stand side by side with the golden maiden.

  “Harold?”

  “Miss Greer,” he replies with a smile before turning to wrap four of his legs around the neck of a one-eyed giant.

  “We have others still inside,” the golden maiden says. “They are holding back the horde within.”

  Gretchen pats her on the back.

  Now I notice that the continual stream of monsters flowing through the open door has slowed to a trickle. My sisters and I are biting as many as we can, sending them home, while our family and friends use our envenomed weapons to do the same. The numbers are nearly balanced now, and we are holding our ground. But we are not gaining on them.

  If things continue as they are, the battle will be a draw.

  “Ssstop!”

  A woman’s voice echoes over the crowd.

  Everyone turns to stare at her—and I mean everyone.

  Though she is dark haired and unexceptional, I recognize her. She’s the woman who led the hypnotized humans into the gym at my tea the other day—the same woman who confronted me on the street before that.

  “Mrs. Knightly,” Gretchen spits.

  “You may call me that, Missss Sharpe,” she hisses, a knowing smirk on her face. “But the time for falsssities has passed. I prefer my true name.”

  “What’s that?” Gretchen asks.

  The woman’s mouth spreads in a dark smile. “I am Nyx.”

  The goddess of night?

  She flicks a bored glance at me. In a graceful movement, she rolls her shoulders, and her entire body shimmers. Like fog burning off in the afternoon sun, her ordinary-looking appearance fades away, leaving a shadowy woman with inky black hair cloaked in a shroud of equally black smoke. Her ivory-pale skin gleams like moonlight.

  There is an aura of malice around her.

  “You’re behind this, aren’t you?” I ask, stepping to Gretchen’s side.

  Nyx turns to me. “I told you I would sssee you on the battlefield.”

  She did? When? Oh my sugar, the creepy text messages. She sent them.

  Shivers race down my spine. “Why?” I demand. “Why have you done all this?”

  Nyx shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “My children,” she says, “deserve to walk in the sssun, more than the humans who claim this realm.”

  Grace moves to Gretchen’s other side, and we three face our primary foe.

  “Your children?” Grace asks.

  “Creatures you call monssster,” Nyx replies. “Cursssed by Olympusss, sentenced to a life in the dark. What kind of mother would I be if I allowed that injustice to ssstand?”

  As we confront Nyx, the battle continues to rage around us. Our
friends and family are sending the monsters back into the abyss, using the weapons dipped in our venom. Though some creatures are still managing to break through the defense on the abyss side of the door, we are reducing their numbers. Even a casual glance tells me that our side is gaining.

  “Your children will have to pass through us,” I say, straightening my spine, “just like everyone else.”

  “Look around,” Gretchen says. “We are winning the battle.”

  “Stand down, cousin,” a deep male voice says from behind us. “Retreat, before your children are destroyed.”

  The look of pure fury on Nyx’s face could melt hardened steel. I glance over my shoulder to see a man—tall, strong, and more than human. Everything about him screams power.

  “The blame is yours, Zeusss,” Nyx spits. “You divided the realms and banished my children to the abyssss.”

  Oooh, I would not push him like that.

  The king of the gods does not react. “What is done cannot be undone.”

  From the corner of my eye, I see Sthenno sprint toward our foe. “Murderer!”

  The pain and anger in her voice slice at my heart. She has just realized that this woman, this goddess, is the one ultimately responsible for Medusa’s death. Her reaction is understandable.

  With barely any effort, Nyx swings her hand and knocks Sthenno aside, sending the supernaturally strong gorgon soaring into the lagoon. That is tremendous power.

  Zeus takes a step toward Nyx, but she casts a swirl of black around her that sweeps out in an ever-widening circle, pushing away every creature in its path. Every creature . . . except us.

  My sisters and I stand alone in the middle of the black circle, facing down our enemy, the ancient enemy of our family.

  She seems invincible.

  The only way to defeat the night, the oracle’s voice says in my mind, is to raise the sun.

  Raise the sun? What on earth does that mean?

  How do we do that? I ask.

  She replies, The pendant.

  An image appears in my mind: the oracle’s pendant lifted high above my head. It catches the sun and spreads brilliant beams of light in all directions.

  “The pendant,” I shout, getting my sisters’ attention.

  “What?” Gretchen demands.

  “No, Greer!” Grace shakes her head. “You can’t.”

  I clench my jaw, and my mouth thins to a tight line. “Trust me.”

  Gretchen studies me for a second, then bends down and reaches into one of the pockets on her cargo pants. She pulls out the oracle’s pendant. Holding it by the chain, she thrusts it toward me.

  I’m not that foolish.

  Closing the distance between us in two strides, I grab Gretchen’s wrist and shove her hand high into the air.

  The gem at the center catches the rays of the late afternoon sun. Just like in my vision, brilliant streaks of sunshine radiate out from the pendant, bathing everything around us in warm, golden light.

  Where the light touches the circle of black, Nyx’s dark cloud crackles and disappears.

  I turn to watch as the rays reach Nyx herself. The look on her face could boil the entire San Francisco Bay. I almost step back, trying to escape her gaze. But Grace steps up to my side, taking my free hand in hers and squeezing me tight.

  We will not back down.

  “You think the light of Apollo can defeat me?” she shouts, sounding equal parts desperate and crazy.

  “The sun always chases away the shadows,” a male voice says.

  I glance over my shoulder and see Apollo standing a few feet away. We exchange a look—I hope mine says clearly that I have not forgotten our last meeting. But Apollo is no longer our enemy.

  Turning back to face Nyx, I take a step forward, closer to our foe, pulling Gretchen and Grace with me. Apollo is right: sunlight defeats shadows. Good defeats evil. And we will defeat the goddess who has spent so many lifetimes trying to destroy our family.

  “Go!” I shout. “You have already lost!”

  Then there is a flash of light and Nyx is gone, pulled back though the door into the abyss. Her cloud disappears, and the pendant’s light spreads farther than the laws of physics should allow, touching every last creature involved in the battle. Around us, the monsters scream, sensing their leader’s absence. Our forces take advantage of the shift and push harder. The monster side turns and runs, rushing the door in retreat. Within a matter of moments, our enemies are gone and the fight is over.

  The air around us stills, heavy with dragon smoke and the lingering stench of a monster army. My sisters and I look at each other warily.

  It’s over, just like that?

  I release Gretchen’s wrist and let her lower her arm.

  “Did we just win?” Grace asks.

  I look around. There is no fighting, no one trying to kill us. The battle is finished.

  “I think so,” I say.

  Grace and I exchange a cautiously hopeful look.

  Gretchen spins slowly in a circle, as if she can’t believe it’s finally done. The seal is broken, the battle is over, and we’re alive to talk about it. After completing three complete turns, Gretchen finally releases a long breath.

  “We did it,” she says, though not too loud, as if she’s afraid of jinxing things. “This may not be the end of the war, but I think this battle is over.”

  “After this,” I say, “the rest should seem easy by comparison.”

  “Well, maybe not easy . . . ,” Grace says.

  No, not easy. But after this hard-won success, at least we know what we can accomplish. Some of my secret doubts vanished with our retreating enemy.

  Zeus faces the gorgons. “Your daughters have proven themselves.” He gestures at us, and I fight the urge to duck. “They have proven your cause. It is right that balance is restored.”

  Another flash of light, and Zeus and the rest of the Olympic faction are gone, leaving me, my sisters, and our family and friends alone on the battlefield. No gods, no monsters; just me and my sisters and our exhausted human—and not quite human—friends. I look around, surprised to see no signs of violence or destruction.

  How can there be no signs of the epic battle that raged just moments ago?

  The gods may act childish at times, the oracle says in my mind, but they do know how to clean up after messes.

  I spin around, trying to spot her, but she is nowhere to be seen. And I thought I was the queen of aloof and mysterious.

  Gretchen throws her arms up in the air as she shouts, “We did it!”

  Our crowd of supporters cheers.

  Overcome by emotion, I step closer to my sisters, wrap an arm around each one, and pull them into a hug. We share a moment, just for us. The battle we fought, and won, was about far more than three girls who look—mostly—alike. It was about balance and justice and protecting countless humans from bloodthirsty monsters. But it came down to the three of us. It all rested on our shoulders, and we held strong.

  “We are amazing,” I whisper so only my sisters can hear.

  “Of course we are,” Gretchen says. “We’re the Key Generation.”

  “But more than that,” Grace says, her voice tight with emotion, “we’re sisters. And we are amazing.”

  When we break up our hug, all three of us have unshed tears in our eyes. I smile, knowing that Grace is right. It’s not just our legacy or our gorgon blood that makes us great. It’s our strength as sisters. And no god or monster can take that away from us.

  Nick walks up to Gretchen, wraps a hand behind her neck, and pulls her into a very meaningful kiss.

  Grace plunges into the crowd, no doubt looking for Milo.

  I turn and find Thane standing right behind me.

  He is covered with sweat, the sleeve of his T-shirt is torn, and he’s bleeding from a slash above his left eye.

  We share a private smile, and then I step into his arms without hesitation. I don’t even care that he is sweating and bleeding all over my Marc Jacobs ta
nk. Well, I don’t care much.

  “We really did it?” I whisper.

  He nods. “Would you accept anything less?”

  “Of course not.” I smile. “You’re learning.”

  Even without our supernatural connection, I feel the bond between us. It’s only growing stronger with time. With Thane, unlike with anyone else in my life—except maybe my sisters—I can be absolutely, unequivocally, unreservedly myself. No image to maintain, no facade of perfection. No striving to be better, smarter, stronger, faster. Just . . . me. For the first time in my life, I am content.

  Not that I’m going to sit back on my heels and drift along. That’s just not my way. But when Mother and Dad return, they are going to find a different Greer than they’re used to.

  And she is going to be so much happier.

  “I believe you have something that belongs to me.”

  I turn at the sound of the oracle’s voice—her real voice, not the echo inside my head.

  She looks untouched by the battle. No bruises or scratches mar her smiling, wrinkled face. Even her voluminous robes look as if she’s just pulled them out of her closet.

  Her eyes study me, knowing. They sparkle with the power to see everything in everyone. She has powers I can only imagine.

  It’s a good thing she’s on our side.

  She lifts her brows.

  Right. Her pendant.

  I reach into my jeans pocket, pulling out the bundle wrapped in a piece of my tank that was about to fall off anyway. I carefully hand it over to the oracle. She peels off the layer of fabric. Grabbing the heavy gold chain, she places the pendant back where it belongs—around her neck.

  “It suits you better,” I say with a half smile. “Gold isn’t really my metal.”

  “No,” she replies, giving me a wry look. “You are more of a platinum girl.”

  “Yes.” I sigh, and my smile fades. We have more serious things to talk about—like how I am supposed to deal with my gift. “Does it get easier?”

  She shakes her head slowly. “No, I’m afraid it does not.”

  Great. That is precisely what I wanted to hear.

  “Possession of the second sight,” she says, “is both powerful and dangerous. You must always retain your awe and respect for the power.”