Wither & Wound

by Demitria Lunetta

  Everyone is screaming. Fights have broken out anew in the aisles, students attacking monsters, who look to Val for the order to fight back. He can’t give it, his hands are on his throat, the muscles working madly as he tries to find a way to speak. Cassie shoves me to the side as more of the ceiling collapses and we skid to a halt together, at Zeus’s feet. A bat flutters over our heads, darting this way and that in agitation. Greg, of course.

  With a casual backhand, Mr. Zee bats Greg away. Then he bends down, inspecting me as if I were a bug.

  “You just want to take your sister and go?” he asks. “Go ahead. She’s all yours.”

  25

  There’s blood pooling out from under the rubble where Mavis fell. I scramble to it, Cassie grabbing my ankle as I go.

  “Wait, Edie,” she calls. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  I know that. My sister was dead the moment the lightning bolt hit her. But I don’t care. My father disappeared after his death, swept out to sea., My mother I could speak to, but not make her recognize me. I’m going to say goodbye to my sister, even if I have to crawl through her blood to do it.

  I start shifting rocks, Cassie at my side. She’s joined by Greg, Jordan, Fern, and Hepa, but Val and Marguerite’s freakish vampire strength is needed to move some of the larger boulders. Zeus has taken command of the students, instructing them to attack at all costs, but confusion still reigns. Most of the monsters have fled, now that the goal—getting Mavis out alive—is impossible.

  The first thing I see is her hand, still manacled, fingers broken and wrist bent at an awkward angle. I cry out at the sight, digging more frantically until only last piece of stone covers her.

  I reach for it, but someone else beats me to it.

  Nico.

  He lifts it away and then stares down at Mavis, now fully visible…and utterly broken.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice hoarse. There is a look of confusion on his face as he continues to stare, all while hugging that final stone in his arms. “I thought this would be different. Feel different.” Shaking his head, he stumbles back a few steps and then wanders away, all the anger and passion gone from him.

  I watch him until he’s out of sight, his back slumped in regret. It’s easier to look at him than what’s left of my sister.

  It’s cowardly and I know were it me, Mavis would do better. So I force myself to look at her once more, my beautiful bossy older sister.

  I pull her into my arms and she sags oddly, all of her bones reduced to dust inside of her skin.

  She’s like a rag doll in my arms; there is nothing left here of my sister.

  Unlike Val, I still have my voice. But there are no words. Nothing to say that can fix it. Nothing that will bring back chasing fireflies in the backyard or splashing in the baby pool. Nothing that can retrieve the good moments or make the bad ones go away…

  Like the last time we spoke.

  When she told me it was either her, or Zeus.

  “You were right,” I say, cradling her head in my arms, her bloodied hair leaving streaks on my skin. “I should have listened to you.”

  Hepa and Fern are moving their hands over Mavis’s skin but I already know what’s in their eyes before they tell me—there’s no hope here. My sister has gone to the Underworld.

  “You were right,” I say again, a heat rising in my gut. “I should have killed him when I had the chance.”

  “Edie,” Greg settles on my shoulder. “Let me do something. Cassie told me about the sword. Let me distract Zee while you get stabby—”

  “Shut up,” I answer softly, furious with him for reasons too complicated to sort out at the moment. Or maybe it’s not that complicated. Maybe it’s the same as when Nico was bullying his little rooster roommate out of jealousy over his big loving family while Nico had no one.

  Or maybe it’s even more simple. Greg always wants to be at the center of the action, but the only thing that ever seems at stake for him—is his pride.

  He’s not in the middle of a prophecy.

  He doesn’t lose sleep at night because of all the lives he’s taken.

  He hasn’t woken up every morning for weeks on end, fearing the last of his family would die that day.

  Nothing in his life is deep and dark and complicated. For him this all might as well be a godsdamned game.

  “Go away, Greg,” I snap. “Unless you want to get yourself killed, which is pretty much the only thing you can do at this point.”

  Cassie clutches my arm. “Edie,” she says softly. “Oh, you said it. You really said it.”

  I shake her off too. Distantly, I hear her calling for Greg, begging him to stay.

  All my attention is on Zee as his shadow casts me in his darkness. He stands over me, a smile on his face. “I see you’ve found her. My, my, my. She doesn’t look well, does she?” A chuckle that seems to start from deep within him, rolls out of his mouth.

  My blood boils hot, as I realize something—I can kill this bastard.

  It won’t bring my sister back. It won’t save her.

  I know that.

  And yes, I was done with killing. Because I was sick of destruction. And violence that only leads to more violence.

  But killing Zee would mean an end to violence. An end to his destruction.

  In many ways it would be a kindness. A righting of so many wrongs.

  I am his daughter, the one able to wield the sword. The one prophesied to kill him with it.

  Not doing it isn’t courage. It’s encouragement. To Mr. Zee. For him to continue on as he’s done all these centuries past. Without remorse. Without any check on his power. Without ever having to answer for what he’s done.

  I let Mavis’s broken body fall to the ground.

  He is a cancer. Letting it continue to grow would kill more than simply cutting it out.

  I stand tall in the pool of my sister’s blood, wrath and justice mixed, one giving strength to the other.

  And still, the chuckle continues to rumble from him.

  “You killed my sister,” I say, my voice hollow and dark.

  “Edie…” Fern, still on her knees, looks up at me. “There’s something on your leg…”

  I glance down to see the sword has lengthened. I pull it from its binding at my leg. The ruby in the hilt glows blood-red, my righteous vengeance infusing it with the ability to kill.

  It’s not a toy anymore, not a weight to be swung with great effort. This is a weapon, a blade that wants to kill.

  And so do I.

  My voice rises to fill the entire theater. “We did forget who you are,” I yell at Mr. Zee. “King of the gods, wielder of lightning. But you’re also a liar and a deceiver, a tyrant and a bully, a lascivious old fornicator.”

  There are some nods of agreement from the students. While Metis smiles slightly, her eyes alight with vicious glee.

  “We forgot,” I repeat as Zeus eyes me, his gaze dropping to the sword. “But you never figured out who I was. Who I am. All this time under your nose. The only dragon shifter ever in existence. How odd. How strange. How could such a thing happen?”

  “Edie,” Themis says, a warning in her voice.

  Ignoring her, I draw the sword, the entire theater gasping as it dazzles brightly, the god’s blood at the heart of the ruby pulsing with light as my rage infuses it.

  “I’m your Moggy bastard child,” I say to Zeus. “And I’m here to kill you, Father.”

  All confidence falls from Zee’s face and he backpedals, pulling students in front of him as a shield. “Where did you get that?” he screams.

  “From Amazon Academy. And from the Underworld,” I tell him, stalking his steps. The students part, making a path. “And from behind my mother’s portrait. Adrianna Aspostolos.”

  “What? I…” Mr. Zee is confused, looking from Hermes to Themis, and back again. “Who?” he finally asks, turning to me.

  I bring the sword up and it sings through the air, landing with it’s tip at Zee’s throa
t like it was made to fit there. “Think hard,” I growl. “It wasn’t too long ago.”

  “Yes, yes! I remember!” he cries out, his desperation clear. “Of course, I do. Dear Adrianna, I loved her. I did!”

  I shift my hand slightly, so the sword nicks the soft skin of his throat and blood begins to flow. “Describe her to me.”

  “Uhh…” His chin trembles. “She had eyes, two of them. Lovely, lovely eyes. Like yours I believe. And she was a buxom girl. I mean a man has a type so it stands to reason...and uh, blonde! She was a true blonde, the curtains matched the drapes—”

  His description ends in a shriek as I pull the blade back and then tilt it down, preparing to drive it into his heart.

  Zee dives out of the way as a strong arm stops me. I whirl, expecting to find Kratos, or Hermes, loyal to the end. But it’s Themis who holds me by the shoulder.

  “Let me go!” I yell at her. “Let me take my revenge.”

  “I cannot,” Themis shakes her head. “If we kill Zeus the world will be thrown into chaos.”

  “You don’t know that!” Metis yells, stepping out from behind the healers who had crowded around her. “It’s only what you fear; you don’t know what will happen. All we know for sure is that Zeus deserves to die, and here stands one capable of doing it.”

  Themis scowls, her gaze moving between me and Metis. “You did this? You gathered these pieces?”

  “Yes, you told me to…” My words die off as I watch Themis’s brow cloud, her eyes darken as she looks at Metis. “You didn’t know, did you?” I ask. “You didn’t know I went after the sword?”

  Themis shakes her head. “No, I would never sanction a weapon so powerful in the hands of anyone, let alone a student. We wish for Zee to step down, that is all. His death would be catastrophic.”

  “That’s right,” Zee yells from behind Hermes and Kratos. “My death would suck big time.”

  I look down at the blade in my hands, and the bloodied footprints—my own—trailing after me, leading back to Mavis’s broken body. “No,” I shake my head. I’m past believing that Zeus can simply be sent off to early retirement.

  “Edie…” Themis leans in, dropping her voice. “Think.”

  It’s what Ocypete said to me, right before I incinerated her. She begged me to rethink my loyalty to the gods. To question everything they had been telling me.

  Now I know she was right. She was the one I should have trusted.

  None of the gods at Mount Olympus Academy have had anything but their own best interest at heart. Zeus wants only blood and women, Metis revenge on an errant husband, Kratos to spread violence, Hermes to live his never-ending life to the utmost pleasure.

  We’re their pawns, and I’m done with that.

  I don’t know what Themis’s agenda is, but I doubt the suffering of humankind keeps her up at night. This is about some ongoing power struggle she has with Mr. Zee. Mavis. Me. Maybe even all the way back to when she raised my father. We were nothing but pawns in her endless game of chess with an overpowered idiot who beat her every time.

  “All your gallons of drugged ambrosia and he is still capable of destruction. You have no idea how to keep him on his leash. Though my guess is you’ve been trying for millennia. Your way didn’t work and now it’s time to try it my way,” I say, drawing myself up under her gaze, my wings unfurling into a deep, dark red to match the stains on my feet. “Let me kill him.”

  There’s a rumble of agreement from the students aligning with me. Cassie comes to my side, shaken, but still with me. One by one, my other friends join her. Jordan. Hepa. Val. Fern. Marguerite. All of them staring down Zeus, Hermes, and Kratos. No sign of Greg; he must have flown off to lick his wounds. Regret for my harsh words flickers through me and is then gone. I simply don’t have the bandwidth to deal with that right now.

  Metis turns to Themis. “Let your scales decide.”

  Themis immediately brightens. Her scales are never wrong and it is impossible to argue with any verdict they deliver.

  Themis goes to her chair, bringing out the scales as a light rain continues to fall. Kneeling, she sets them on an uncracked portion of the stage, where it’s perfectly level. She kicks aside some rubble, finally deciding on two smaller pieces of cracked marble.

  “Edie,” she proclaims, raising one piece. “Is it your wish to fight Zeus, king of the gods, in combat until one of you is dead?”

  “Yes,” I say, without hesitation. Metis places the stone on one side of her scales, which remain balanced despite the lack of a counterweight. She holds the second piece of marble aloft.

  “Zeus,” she calls. “Is it your desire to fight Edie, the first dragon-shifter, your Moggy-born bastard child in combat until one of you is dead?”

  “No,” Mr. Zee says. He slips out from behind Hermes and Kratos, coming toward me with outstretched hands. “Who would want to kill such a beautiful young thing? Daughter!” He cries, warily eyeing my blade as he approaches. “Of course I remember your mother, Adrianna Poopadoopalous.”

  “You disgusting snake,” I seethe.

  Themis puts Zee’s rock onto the scale, which holds a perfect balance for a few seconds. The amphitheater is utterly still, everyone’s eyes locked on the scales, as the side with my rock comes crashing down, resonating throughout the hall.

  “Very well,” Themis sighs. “It is just. You shall fight.”

  26

  Once it’s decided, Themis is all business.

  “This is a death match,” she announces. “There will be no interference.” She casts a dark look at Hermes and Hades, but I’m more worried about Val. He doesn’t have a voice, but he doesn’t need one; his emotions are plain on his face. He would happily kill Zee for me...if he could.

  But only I can do this.

  “Contestants.” Themis beckons to us, bringing me and Mr. Zee within reaching distance of one another. We face off, my cheeks still hot with rage, his red with ambrosia. “Acknowledge each other,” Themis commands.

  I spit at Zeus, and he flicks me off. Apparently, this is enough to cover the bare minimum of “acknowledging” each other. Themis backs away, edging to the side of the stage.

  “To prevent any aid being given to either opponent, the fighting arena will be sealed off,” Themis announces, and a thin line of fire creeps from her fingertip. She points at the stage floor, and the fire runs in a perfect circle around me and Zee, meeting itself with a snap. Smoke rises, thick and oily, creating a dome around us.

  “Good luck, Edie,” Themis says, and then the smoke rises past her face, blotting out everyone.

  There are no onlookers. No well-wishers. No one to cheer or jeer. No one to help or hinder. It’s just me and Zeus, staring each other down in this encapsulated world that only one of us will leave alive.

  “I don’t remember your mother,” Mr. Zee says, all pretense at civility dropped. “How could I? There have been so many.”

  He’s trying to rile me, trying to get me to make a foolish lunge like I did before. Only this time he’s ready.

  I don’t fall for it.

  Instead I circle him, the sword light and lithe in my grip, ready to perform its duty. Hopeful for a kill. I don’t rise to his bait, instead watching, waiting for Zee to make a move.

  “Although it’s a good thing you unmasked yourself, in the end,” Zeus continues, turning with me as I make my circle. “You’re a pretty little thing, and I do have my weaknesses. What’s one more relative, anyway?”

  He feints to the left and I fall for it, side-stepping in the wrong direction. I recover quickly, but he laughs, the sound rolling across the little arena we have to fight in. “Oh, little Edie,” he sighs. “We could’ve had some fun.”

  He makes another grab, this one not a fake, and I take to the air, wings snapping out. There’s a split second when I’m above him, his massive shoulders turned away that I see the chance to drop like a rock and bury the sword between his shoulder blades. I lunge downward, but too late. Zeus senses my movement
and spins, one arm up defensively.

  The sword slides through his arm like butter and blood sprays, catching the light as it flows down his wounded arm.

  It takes me by surprise and I don’t adjust my trajectory well, bouncing off Zee’s arm and hitting the side of the dome.

  It looks like smoke but feels like stone, and I hit hard, my arm going numb with the impact. The sword clatters to the ground and I fall after it, a crumpled heap.

  “Oh please,” Zeus says, striding toward me. “Don’t tell me it’s that easy. Or maybe you are just like your mother, after all.”

  “You bastard,” I spit, grabbing the sword and coming back to my feet. Something caves in my side and I’m pretty sure a rib is broken. I switch sword hands, clutching my side with the free one.

  “No, you’re the bastard,” Zeus says, conversationally. “In the true sense of the word. You and your trash Moggy boyfriend.”

  I rush him, sword out, blind rage sending me at a run.

  Zeus grabs my arm at the elbow, almost casually, and sends me flying through the air, headed for another bone-crushing impact with the smokescreen.

  I pump my wings, gain some altitude and spin away from the wall, putting some distance between us as well. I’ve got to do what Ocypete told me so long ago—THINK! I’ve got to get his smug voice out of my head and come up with a plan other than blind rage.

  “Can’t shift, can you? No, no, no,” Zeus wags a finger at me. “Shift into a dragon and you won’t be able to hold the sword. Damndest things, talons. Good for slashing, bad for fine motor skills.”

  “Shut up,” I say, landing a few feet away from him, trying to get my bearings.

  “What?” Zeus shrugs. “I’m just trying to help you out, save some time. Think about it, Edie. Shift into a dragon and you can burn me, tear me, bite me…it’s an attractive option.”

  It is. Just looking at the drops of his blood on the stage floor has my dragon-self salivating, wanting to know the taste of ichor.

  “But…” Zeus forehead crinkles, like he’s actually thinking this out. “It won’t do you much good will it? I mean, I’m the king of the gods. You’ve seen my healing powers, right, Edie? Right?”