“I – I can’t talk right now,” I said, practically choking.
“Lord Victor, do you mind?” Evan asked as he motioned to my double doors.
“Actually, I do.” Victor answered, gruffly.
“For some reason… my bolt wasn’t powerful enough and…” I trailed off, not knowing what else to say.
“Delia, you have not been fully anointed.” Victor explained as he stepped between Evan and me. He took my face into his hands. “You will not have full power until Zeus anoints you. Don’t blame yourself, sweetheart.”
The heat was intense and excitably hot. I had no desire to move, held by hands that soothed and warmed me to my bare soul. I hope that he would never let go.
“Shall I leave you two alone?” Evan asked. There was a sharp edge to his usually calm tone.
Evan noted Victor’s tenderness toward me, and my acceptance of his loving gesture. The twisted wrinkle in his forehead matched the crooked line of his lips. Evan exuded rage toward the boy who was not only his competition but also his superior. As his eyes left Victor’s face and met my eyes, the look in them had softened to sadness.
Oh Gods, what am I doing? Ignoring Evan was something I had never thought possible. I had forgotten that Evan was in the room. I had forgotten about him completely. I stepped away from Victor and he tried to grab hold of my hand as it fell to my side. I hadn’t realized that I had been touching his face.
“Delia, whatever your plans are for us,” Evan said, somberly. “You have a very important decision to make whether you believe it’s your fault or not.” Evan held me with a gaze that tore at my heart, and then he walked out of my room leaving the doors swinging open in his wake. I prayed to the gods that the ‘us’ Evan meant was our empire and not he and I.
I fell into my chair holding my head in one hand as the other clenched at my medallion. As Victor came closer, his blistering heat seemed to spring up at least fifty degrees.
“Delia, a decision needs to be made so that no one gets hurt, but only if you are truly prepared.” Victor said, lifting my chin so that I looked him in the eyes. When I looked into them, I knew that he was in love with me and had always been even if his love had been buried deep within him all those years while he was living on the streets. “However you choose you know deep within your core what will always feel right.” Victor added, turned, and walked out of my room.
I sat at my vanity for a very long time agonizing over the heavy weight in my heart. I had some choice words for Evan’s father. Thanks to the mess he created, I had an impossible decision to make. How could I choose between a love that had grown naturally and endured my death and time in the future, and a love that was so strong that it nearly wiped me out and devastated me when I thought of living without it, although I had no idea how or when it surfaced.
I realized that I had to come to terms with a frustrating fact. In my core and with every grain of my soul, I was deeply in love with both Evan and Victor. I also came to realize that when Clotho, the first sister of the Fates, spun the thread of our destinies, she sometimes intertwined them too tightly, causing the threads to become frayed and impossible to untangle.
Clotho had spun an interesting and intertwining thread, as if on a spindle, for the lives of us all, including the fallen elder Ischero. As for them, that would’ve been just fine if Lachesis, the second sister of the Fates that measured just how long that thread would be, had decided to make the elders’ thread a bit longer. Once the end of that thread was near, Atropos, the third sister of the Fates was the one who handled the deed of snipping the thread. She decided just how you would die and saw it quite fitting that the council be sequestered to Hades’ realm.
It was likely that the Fates had control over the gods too. If not than you’d expect the gods to intervene and maybe prevent the snip of Atropos’ shears, possibly letting you live. Obviously, they could not. The gods had the power to tweak what the Fates set into motion, but never the last sister’s plans.
As I lay in my bed trying earnestly to fall asleep, my mind was plagued with the slaughter of my elders. I was beginning to believe that the true rulers over every entity, whether godly or mortal were the three sisters.
Sixteen - Cordelia
Persecution
Sun Paw screamed at me to wake up. I must be dreaming, I thought as the pungent smell of smoke filled my nostrils. I actually thought I was stuck in Evan’s recurring dream – where I burst into flames. All I remembered was lying down for just a moment to go over the horrifying events of the day and the dilemma of being the apex of a love triangle. I must have dozed off.
By now, the smoke had worked its way down my throat, cutting off my words as I tried to ask Sun Paw where the children were. Somehow, she understood me, answering me with hand gestures, indicating that Christopher and Phoebe were still in their chambers. I dashed to their rooms in the time it took to blink an eye. I flung them over my shoulders, made it through the front doors, and onto the front garden before Sun Paw made it out of my room. Once outside, I noticed that the entire block was on fire. Actually, not the entire block. My house, the Capius estate, the Iptian estate, and every home belonging to an Ischero family were engulfed in flames that reached high into the sky.
Just as I was about to go back into the house to get Sun Paw, the chanting rose above the crackling flames as they tore through the second and third floors. The disturbing words were yelled repeatedly and over again, growing louder with each syllable.
“EVIL HEATHENS, LEAVE OUR TOWN!”
I recognized the sheriff and his deputies within the crowd of town’s folk that walked toward us. I knew that there was no law in place tonight when I saw the pistols and rifles being raised. The first shot was fired from a pistol. Victor fell backward on the ground and remained motionless, for a couple seconds, before standing right back up. A beaming smile spread across Victor’s face. It wasn’t his incredibly good looks that made his smile radiant, but the small, shimmering chunk of metal wedged between his teeth. More shots were fired by our friendly neighbors.
“YA’ SEE! YA’ SEEN THAT. THEY AIN’T HUMAN! THEY AIN’T EVEN… ALIVE!” One man yelled.
“THEY ARE THE DEVIL! LUCIFER HAS BEEN LIVING AMONGST US! KILL THEM! KILL THEM ALL!” A woman within the crown shouted, as more shots were fired and my disciples stood un-phased. We had no reason to counter attack these mortals since they’re only power was in a firearm.
Resounding thunder, originating from the end of the street, rose higher than the chanting and gunshots. Every head of every mortal that had made the very bad decision to threaten our lives tonight was inclined upward. Their mouths gaped as their eyes widened when they saw the roaring tsunami. The turbulent wall of water stood taller than every fine Victorian and Greek inspired mansion along the street.
The mortals were not ready for what arrived next. The opaque black mass swept through the crowd and grabbed a hold of mortals, as if they were there for the picking. The screams from the town’s folk were deafening. My disciples stood still as the vapor swirled around them, but not touching them as it bore a hole in the ground and dragged the mortals to the Underworld.
The crowd had thinned out and the remaining mortals stood motionless, in shock. Just as unexpected as the Apolluon’s arrival had been, so was the crash of the wall of water coming down. It sounded like a building being demolished. The rumbling sound rang in their ears as fear struck each of them for a second time in a matter of seconds. They ran as fast as they could. Some fell and some grabbed hold of others in an attempt to flee the flow of the new river. The water swept them all down the hill, which led back into town. As the icy water washed over us, we stood motionless and watched the mortals scream and tread through Evan’s wrath.
The waves slammed into our burning mansions. The resilient flames tore back at the deluge and after a few moments the fire waned, and was finally was put out. The fire left thick clouds of black smoke, which dissipated into the air. The flow of the waves quieted as the r
iver disappeared down the hill. The leaves of the oak trees, which lined Millionaire’s Row, began to rustle as a swift breeze whipped through them. Suddenly, a smoky gray mass of blustery wind spiraled up the street and burst into our homes. Olympia’s forceful and coiling gusts dried every drop of water that had saturated our charred walls and furnishings. Any evidence of Evan’s magic vanished just as he walked back up the hill.
We all still stood in the middle of the street as Evan strode passed us. He paused only once to touch Bethany’s hair before he stopped in front of me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me very close. His eyes bore into mine. I opened my mouth and let him press his lips into mine. He held me tighter than he had ever before. My feet could no longer feel the dirt and pebbles beneath them as he lifted me up. My heart soared with every new second I was given to feel him and belong to him. I was as weightless as a dove’s feather when he put me down, gently, and I felt dazed when he pulled away. I gazed back into his eyes and the clarity in them told the truth. He still loved me. According to the notions in his head at that moment, I had been the first person he thought of when he smelled the smoke, which wafted, into his parlor.
“By the time I made it out of my house, you were carrying the children out. I was incredibly grateful to the Fates at that moment.” He whispered. I placed a finger on his lips.
“I’m grateful to them too,” I said and then stopped speaking when I caught something emerging in my peripheral.
Evan didn’t see them until I stepped around him to face the small group of soaked men and women. They headed back up the hill and toward us. Their hats sailed in the forceful winds and their hair was plastered to their faces. They shook, shivered, and screamed the same words they had been yelling just a few minutes ago, before their loved ones and neighbors drowned.
I took a few steps toward them and they halted in their tracks. They were deathly afraid of me. They threw their arms up. Each of them armed with a crucifix. The damage was done and the mortals believed that they were driving their point home. They may not know what we are but they had confirmed what we weren’t – mortal. We were not of their world and mortals couldn’t see past what they knew and understood. They would never understand us, although we were like them in one way. We would always defend ourselves.
They believed that it had been something unearthly – something evil; whatever their belief of evil was, that had brought a tsunami to their desert town, perhaps killing countless innocent people. Why don’t we just sweep the fact that they had set our homes on fire in hopes that we’d all burn alive right under the rug, shall we? We’d be forgiven by the gods, but I couldn’t forgive them, especially when I felt the fear my little brother and sister felt as they watched these brazen fools march up to us.
Neither Sun Paw, her sister Moon Rose, her brother Night Wind, nor their mother Light Shine could move as they stood on my porch in shock. They knew our secret, and saw some rare instances of magic, but this was far from what any of them had ever experienced. I caught Sun Paw’s gaze and tried to reassure her, but she was visibly shaken, placing her hand in her sisters. Light Shine nodded at me and then took her children back into the Capius Estate, back to ruins.
“Return to your homes. You’ll never remember any of us.” I stared into each pair of eyes and Glamoured every mortal before me into forgetting the events of this day. They turned around and marched down the hill.
“My disciples, it’s time. I believe we have somewhere else to be. Please follow me.” I said as I took one of each of Phoebe and Christopher’s hands and led everyone back to the mines.
Seventeen - Cordelia
Metropolis
My disciples formed a semi-circle around me. We were homeless and back in the mines. Our reflections were projected by the dim oil lanterns, hung sporadically on the walls. I watched the flickering shadows carefully, making certain that the un-choreographed movements of my anxious members reflected on the rock littered walls weren’t the Apolluon preparing to strike once more. I cleared my throat and took a quick assessment of their thoughts. My disciples were quite anxious to hear what my plans for the future were.
“The choice has been made.” Even before the words spilled from my lips, I knew it was the choice, which would lead us to the truth.
“When we leave this mine tonight,” I said and looked around the vast space that has been our regular meeting place for what seemed like forever as well as the place that allowed the enemy in, “we must adjust to our new lives. We’ll be forging an unchartered place for Ischeros, but a well-established way of life. We will have new homes and new professions. Although we’ll remain with the identities we were given by our gods, we will continue to keep the secret of our identity. We must follow the rule of never using our powers in the public’s eye.” I added eyeing everyone. “The Apolluon may not be there yet and we don’t wish to alert them, or it’ll defeat our main purpose of going there. You do understand that this is the only way we can live and survive in this new place and time.”
“I think we are ready, Empress.” Bethany said and everyone nodded in agreement.
With a deep breath, I began reciting a chant that would teleport every Ischero.
“With light I tell the time in the place I see.”
“With light I tell the time in the place I see.”
“With light I tell the time in the place I see.”
The disciples were initially blinded by the white light that engulfed my body and spread out like wings around them in a fierce embrace. My bolt spiraled around us and looked more like a whirlpool of crackling barbed wire. For my disciples, it wasn’t harmful as it tore through them, raising each of them off the dirt floor. We spun around and around, whirling faster and faster until the blinding light dimmed and the current slowed. One by one, my disciples disappeared.
“We’re here.” I announced in a whisper. They still felt the effects of the lightning – static – as it slowly dissipated from their bodies. Everyone looked out of the steam train’s windows. I could feel every one of their emotions –anticipation – upon arriving in a new place and time. The memory of my father, and how he had spent a considerable amount of time in this city when it was still called New Amsterdam, entered my mind and I smiled to myself. I loved the idea of being in a place that my father once graced.
The train porters opened the doors of the train. We stepped down the narrow steel stairs and onto the shimmering stone platform of the grand station on this prosperous little island called Manhattan. I felt the rush of warm air against my exposed legs. We dodged hundreds of pairs of shoes as they clicked across the floor in zigzag patterns heading to their destinations.
A huge clock hung over the Pennsylvania Railroad Station’s tracks. No one said a word as we all seemed to listen as its hands ticked the day away. It was exactly noon. Through everyone’s excitement and joy, there was sadness that their parents hadn’t survived long enough to make the fresh start. I took one of Phoebe and Christopher’s hands and guided everyone out of the station and onto the wide sidewalk. The sunshine broke effortlessly though the thin veil of clouds in the sky and I couldn’t help smiling. No one, not one traveler, seemed to notice us as they pushed passed us in every direction. Why would they? We were donned in the fashions of this modern day and fit in perfectly. It was a beautiful June day in 1926 – June 1st, to be exact.
My demigoddesses, as well as I, had abandoned our tubular dresses, bustles, corsets, and replaced them with camisoles and bloomers. We wore the popular and shorter styled dresses – A-lined chemises in colorful, wispy fabrics with slits, gathers, and pleats. The dresses hung just below the knee. They were loosely fit and allowed more freedom and motion. Quite a few of us wore a matching close-fitting cloche hat. Crème rouge circled our cheekbones and every pair of eyebrows had been plucked and thinly penciled in.
The male members of the empire still wore suits, but they were lighter in weight. A few wore patterned double-breasted suits with pants at their natural
waistline and cuffed at the hem. Others wore linen knickers, a patterned bow tie, and a V-neck sweater topped with a brimmed straw hat or driving cap. Their hair was trimmed, and slicked back behind their ears.
We’ll be known to be the wealthiest western pioneers of silver. We’ll fit in perfectly with the elite – the bankers, real estate investors and developers, railroad magnates, and steel tycoons who lived in luxurious buildings on this narrow strip of island. We’ll be considered, as they are, to be the Millionaires of New York’s wealthiest society.
This wealthy society with their old money or fortunes handed down from one family member to another without having worked a day for any of it was exactly what these fake upper crust New Yorkers believed set them above and apart from everyone else – the poor and working class. Actually, they were the ‘new money’, which they had dubbed those who had recently acquired fortunes. We, the Ischero Empire were the true benefactors, the real ‘old money’, and the wealthiest on this earth. In our mines, we created the silver and gold which these wealthy families started their businesses with, but of course we had to blend.
The plan was to live amongst these mortals—the winners from oil, steel, railroads, lumber, motorcars, banking, real estate, and moving-picture kings. We would make our home in sumptuous apartments in a steel-and-stone skyscraper on Park Avenue and give off the impression of running thriving and profitable businesses while keeping a non-existent profile from the Apolluon, wherever they may be lurking.
These mortals would have no idea of whom or what we are, which is the reason why I chose four luxurious apartment buildings on Park Avenue to purchase. I also planned to accept a few high society invitations in order to keep the gossipers at bay and the society mavens and mavericks in our good graces, although it wasn’t the first order of business.
We stood under the portico of the train station facing an enormous building that towered over the wide avenue. The hubbub of voices and bursts of automobile horns, as well as the screech of tires, mixed and made up all the sounds of the busiest area of New York City. Some vehicles zipped by as others stopped in front of the station to let out a passenger before weaving right back into the hectic flow of the afternoon traffic.
Sacrifice (The Descendants #2) Page 12