by Aimee Carter
“He didn’t mention the pendant,” I said as we started to turn back toward camp. “He knew exactly what was taken, down to the bean, but not a word about the earl’s most prized possession.”
A line formed between Tuck’s eyebrows. “Because he knows I’d never give it up,” she said, but there was doubt in her voice.
We walked the rest of the way in tense silence, both undoubtedly contemplating the same thing. Did Barry know she wouldn’t give the pendant up? Or was there another reason?
I should’ve known—mortals weren’t that difficult to figure out most of the time, but when Tuck wasn’t willing to give me all of the information, I didn’t have a chance. Hard to put the pieces together when they weren’t all there.
Less than fifty paces from camp, I heard it—the faint sounds of rustling behind us. I froze and held up a hand to Tuck, and she stopped midstep.
Climb a tree. Never in a million years should I have talked to a mortal like this, but we didn’t have much choice. Her eyes widened, and all the color drained from her face. Do it. We’re being followed. I’ll explain later.
To her credit, she only hesitated for a split second before she soundlessly climbed the nearest tree. I didn’t have time to admire her skills—I scampered up after her, and together we balanced precariously on the highest branch that could hold us. She clung to the tree, her nails digging into the bark, and I wasn’t sure which she was more afraid of: me or the people following us.
Four men emerged from the trees within seconds. They wore the same black as the guards from that morning, which helped them blend into the night, and the one on point held up his hand. Beside me, Tuck stiffened. And we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
“They’re gone,” whispered one of the guards, and another one nodded in agreement. The leader grumbled.
“Gotta keep looking. I’d rather not be flayed, if it’s all the same to you lot.”
“We’ll have no chance,” said the first guard. “Not without a trail.”
“Couldn’t have gone far. If we split up, we’ll have a better chance of—”
He stopped cold, and in the distance, the sound of Perry’s laughter filtered through the night.
The boys. They were sitting ducks.
Except for the fact that I was a god and had plenty of options. I took a breath, ready to divert their attention and send them in the opposite direction, but before I could tell Tuck I had it handled, she screamed.
It was an earsplitting scream, the sort that would be heard for miles, and I grimaced. There went our chances of getting out of this. The guards shouted and pointed upward, but all I saw on Tuck’s face was grim determination. The scream wasn’t out of fear; she was trying to warn the boys.
But naturally, as Tuck jumped from the branch and landed on one of the guards, the boys came running toward us. Even if Tuck had planned some sort of signal ahead of time, she severely underestimated what they were willing to do to help her.
Sprout charged through the trees, brandishing a club, with Perry and Mac close behind. He caught the first guard by surprise, bashing his kneecaps, while Perry launched himself at the second. Mac sent his elbow flying into the face of the third, and Tuck continued to wrestle with the leader.
I dropped to the ground. It was chaos—limbs flying, shouts echoing through the night, and the screech of metal against metal as the guards unsheathed their swords. Fists and knees were one thing, but they didn’t stand a chance against weapons.
“Stop!” I called, and at the same time, I pushed the thought into each of their heads. Two of the guards fumbled their weapons, while Tuck’s guard was too busy fending off a choke hold to do much. But the fourth—
The cliché about time moving in slow motion isn’t a cliché for no reason. I’d lived for thousands of years, but that moment was the first time I’d experienced it firsthand. Too stunned to react, I watched in horror as the sword sliced through Perry’s stomach, blossoming from his back. As the guard yanked it out, everyone went still, and Perry looked down at his torso.
Blood soaked through his tunic on both sides, and he fell to his knees, his eyes wide. “Tuck?” he whispered, looking to her for help. But Tuck remained frozen.
I darted to his side. Healing wasn’t my thing—Apollo was better at it than I’d ever be, but I didn’t have much choice. I set my hands on his chest, closing my eyes and willing his wounds to heal. Life drained out of him quicker than I could stop it though, and I cursed. Not now. Not tonight. Not with Tuck watching.
“Stay with me,” I commanded. I didn’t exactly have the pull Zeus did, but to a mortal, it was enough. Perry groaned, tearing up in pain, and I poured everything I had into healing him.
Apollo. I pushed the thought as hard as I could. I need your help.
Whether he heard me or not, I couldn’t tell. Thoughts took time to travel through space, and I willed myself to keep healing. There was only so much I could do with a mortal wound though—I wasn’t Apollo or one of the original six siblings, and my powers were limited.
“Keep breathing.” Another command, but this time much gentler. “You will be all right. Just keep breathing. One breath in, one breath out.”
The space between my hands and Perry’s wound glowed with golden light, and that was enough to stop the guards cold. For now, at least.
Soon enough, however, a dozen more men surrounded us, each stopping as he saw what I was doing. I didn’t care—whether they knew who I was or not, whether they believed in me or not, it didn’t matter. The only thing that did was keeping Perry alive.
At last the biggest, burliest guard stepped forward, his sword drawn and pointed directly at me. “What sorcery is this?”
Several others drew their weapons and surrounded us. I didn’t move. Somewhere nearby, Sprout was sobbing, and the remaining guards took the others into custody. Including Tuck.
But I couldn’t move, not if I wanted Perry to stand a chance. One by one, the guards wrapped rope around their hands, and they dragged them off into the woods. Sprout’s sobs faded, and Mac was silent as ever; Tuck, however, shouted as they carried her away, “James, don’t let him die!”
I gritted my teeth. Apollo—please. I’ll do whatever you want. A dangerous proposition, all things considered, but I was desperate.
Anything I want, all for a mortal?
Apollo’s voice filtered into my mind, much faster than I’d expected. I craned my neck, searching for him in the trees, but of course I didn’t see him. We may not have had powers of invisibility, but no one saw us without our permission.
Yes, anything. Just heal him.
A pause, and then, Fine. Get rid of the other mortals. I can’t do this with them watching. Zeus is going to kill you, you know.
Yes, I know, I snapped. If I get myself captured, do you promise to do everything in your power to save him?
I could practically feel his indignation from here. I’ve already said I would. Now get out of here before I change my mind.
Pushing the last of what energy I had left into Perry, and hoping against hope it would hold him until Apollo reached him, I held up my hands and stood. “All right, you have me. Let’s go.”
For the longest ten seconds of my existence, no one said a word. At my feet, Perry grew weaker, and I let out a frustrated growl. Obviously they were scared, but did they have to be cowards about it?
“Listen, either you can arrest me right now, or I can
kill all of you and walk out of here without a scratch,” I said. It wasn’t an empty threat. Perry’s life was at stake, and I wasn’t playing around. Not anymore.
A few guards shuffled forward, still holding their swords, though their fear damn near smothered me. I held out my hands, and the bravest of the lot quickly bound them. Nothing I couldn’t get out of, but I’d drained myself trying to save Perry, and my legs were unsteady and the edges of my vision fuzzy. I could still take them, though. Probably.
“Come on,” I said, stumbling forward in the direction the guards had led the others. In the distance, I sensed some sort of village, along with a castle and a sizable farming community. That must’ve been where Tuck and the others had come from and where the guards were taking them now. Sure enough, I could feel Tuck’s trail, warm and red with panic.
I led the way, and none of the guards questioned me. Despite the binds on my hands and the weapons in theirs, they kept their distance, muttering things to one another that they thought I couldn’t hear. I could, but it didn’t matter. I had to find Tuck.
Apollo? Is he all right? I said once the outskirts of a small village came into view, mostly made up of wooden shacks and dirt. He didn’t answer. Emaciated horses stood at their posts, their heads hanging low. Regardless of the late hour, serfs were scattered throughout the roads, packing or hauling carts filled with food they would likely never get to eat, and they raised their heads to watch us as we passed. No one looked well fed or clean.
Apollo? Still no response. I tried again, but all I heard was silence. Perfect. Either he was ignoring me or Perry had died, and he wasn’t in the mood to tell me. I clenched my fists and pushed onward. He’d healed him. This was a game—Apollo’s idea of a joke. He’d tell me eventually. Everything would be fine.
Despite the rampant poverty the serfs lived in, the walls around the village were staffed by several dozen clean-cut guards dressed in the same black uniforms as the ones who trailed me. All of them looked as if they’d had three square meals a day for the majority of their lives. And inside the stone walls, the homes became better somehow—slightly larger, cleaner, sturdier, infinitely more habitable. The horses in the street were plump and groomed, and the few people still outside after dark wore clean clothes and smiles. Until I passed, of course.
Looming in the distance was our ultimate destination: a castle. Nothing that would ever compare to Olympus, but against the backdrop of menial living, it looked luxurious and much better than it was. The guards took it from here, though they all hesitated before surrounding me. Still, it wouldn’t look good to have a prisoner lead himself in, so the leader took point while the rest of them tried not to get too close.
The inside of the castle was dark and dank, with torches lighting the way. Definitely nothing like Olympus. I followed the guards, who led me straight down Tuck’s trail. She wasn’t far—I could practically see her glow through the stone walls, and I grew more and more anxious the closer we got. What if Apollo hadn’t saved Perry? What if he gave up as soon as he saw how badly he was hurt?
It didn’t matter. I couldn’t tell Tuck the truth.
We entered what must’ve been some kind of great hall, complete with two long tables flanking a shorter one on a raised platform. Sort of like a throne room, except this man—this earl—wasn’t a king. With the way he sat in his gilded chair, however, his head held high as he stared down his nose at the three hunched figures kneeling in front of him, he seemed to think he was.
Tuck. Mac. Sprout. Even from the entranceway, I could sense their pain and terror. Sprout was practically vibrating, he was trembling so hard; Mac was a sickly shade of green; and Tuck…
I’d never sensed such a weird combination of fear, anger and hatred in someone before. Terror rolled off her, filling the room with an odd chill. But she stared up at the earl, her head raised when everyone else’s was bent. That was my Tuck.
“My lord,” said the lead guard, and the others ushered me forward. “We have found the scoundrel who led the attack this morning.”
The earl paled. “And you have brought him here bound by nothing more than rope?”
The guard hesitated. “That was all we had, my lord. We subdued him, and he is compliant.”
“Are you willing to stake your life on it?” growled the earl, and the guard said nothing. “Come closer into the light, boy. You are a boy, are you not? Certainly not old enough to yet be considered a man.”
Please. I looked Tuck’s age or older. This was some sort of game, something to unsteady me, but he wasn’t going to win. I was older than the wood he sat on. Older than the rock his castle was built with. But I moved forward anyway, eager to get closer to Tuck. The guards sidestepped me, clearly still afraid despite their earl’s show of bravery. Smart.
“What are you called?” said the earl, peering down at me. I glanced at Tuck, who was watching me with red-rimmed eyes.
I did my best. I pushed the thought silently into her mind, and she leaned away from me. Damn. “I’m called James. And you?”
He scoffed, but I held his stare, and slowly the amusement drained from his face. “I am your lord and ruler of this land. That is all you must concern yourself with. How did you fall in with these children?”
“According to you, I’m a child myself,” I said with as much mock innocence as I could muster. Living with Aphrodite for eons came in handy, after all. “Clearly it’s natural for children to band together when no one else will help them.”
“Do not be smart with me, boy,” he snarled. “You will answer my questions, or I will assume your guilt and have you hanged by morning. Is that what you want?”
I shrugged. “I don’t really care.”
The earl’s face turned a strange shade of purple I’d never seen on a human being before. “And your friends? Do you care if they are hanged?”
“I care enough to promise you that if any harm comes to them because of something you do, I will make sure you regret it for the rest of your short life.”
He gripped the arms of his so-called throne. “Guards! Search them for my pendant.”
As soon as the nearest guard put his hands on Tuck, she let out a sound I’d only ever heard from a wild animal. Her elbow connected with the guard’s face, and he hollered, blood gushing from his nose.
Half a dozen guards drew their swords, and Tuck stilled. She glared up at the earl though, and he clapped his hands together with glee.
“Dear, dear Laurel, you always did have a flair for the dramatic,” he said with a chuckle, and I blinked. Who was Laurel?
Tuck tensed, her eyes narrowing into slits. “Don’t call me that.”
“And why not?” said the earl with a twisted smile. Clearly he was enjoying this. “It is your name. I remember giving it to you.”
Wait. I glanced at Tuck, who kept her focus glued to the earl, even though she had to know I was watching her. Unless earls had a habit of naming every child in their village…
He’s your father?
The corners of Tuck’s mouth turned downward, and she gave a slight, barely perceptible nod. Perfect. Could’ve known that sooner, but at least now I knew he wouldn’t actually carry out his threat to execute them. Or Tuck, at least. Abhorrent as he was, he wouldn’t kill his own daughter.
“You will stand still while the guards search you,” said the earl, and he gestured toward the boys. “Or my guards will run your friends through with a sword. Is that understood?”
Tuck didn’t move. She
had to have the pendant on her—she might have let it drop in the woods, knowing the earl would never be able to find it, but I doubted it. Not when the pendant meant so much to her.
Where was it? Closing my eyes, I reached out for it, and—
In her shoe. How the hell had she managed to get it in there without me noticing? Didn’t matter. As the guards approached her, warier this time, I mentally took hold of it. It was strangely warm, connected to Tuck as it was, and while one brave guard with trembling hands patted me down, I vanished it.
Not an easy trick, and not something I did lightly. But as mad as the earl would be when his search turned up nothing, Tuck would be even worse off if the pendant returned to her father.
She must have felt the pendant disappear, because she finally looked at me, a question in her eyes. If she couldn’t give me the truth, then I didn’t owe it to her, either. At least not yet.
When the guards turned up empty-handed, having searched all of us, the earl stood. “I will find it,” he growled.
“Are you sure about that?” said Tuck with more sass than was wise, all things considered. The earl’s face turned red again, and he slammed his fist down on the table.
“I am sure enough that if you do not produce the pendant or give us adequate information to find it by sunup, I will kill each of your friends. And if you do not tell me by sundown, I will kill you.”
She scoffed, but there was fear in her voice, as well. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
“You won’t,” I interjected. “Else you’ll be the next to die.”
Silence. The earl leaned forward against the table, and if he could’ve set me on fire through hatred alone, I was pretty damn sure I would’ve been ash by now. “And you,” he murmured in a poisonous voice. “You will be the first to die.”
“You can kill me as many times as you’d like,” I said. “Right now, if you don’t mind, I’m tired.”