“It doesn’t have a central heart or a brain!” Orion yelled back. “Maybe try boiling it?”
“Son of a . . . ,” Lucas swore, and jumped off of the struggling creature. Lucas wanted to end its misery, but he didn’t know how. He scrambled away, and turned his attention to his little sister.
“Orion!” Cassandra sobbed against his chest.
“It’s all right, Kitty,” Orion said soothingly, running his hands over her to make sure nothing was broken or bleeding.
Cassandra quieted down, and he checked every limb and every joint on her body. Then she reached up to put her fingers in his thick hair and turned her mouth up to his like a shy flower opening for the first time. In a daze, Orion lowered his lips and kissed her.
Lucas’s foot connected with the side of Orion’s head before Lucas was even aware that he was angry.
“She’s just a child!” Lucas growled, jumping on top of Orion’s sprawled body and hitting him as hard and as fast as he could.
“I am not!” Cassandra screamed.
Lucas was vaguely aware that Cassandra was scratching his face and trying to claw him off of Orion. She kept repeating that she loved him, but it didn’t matter much to Lucas. His little sister really was like a kitten. Her claws stung, but they didn’t have the strength to injure.
“I know!” Orion hollered. “I shouldn’t have—I’m sorry!”
Orion was holding up his arms to shield himself, and Lucas noticed he wasn’t even trying to fight back.
“You better kill me now, Lucas, because I’m not going to stay away from her. I can’t.” Orion’s voice was breaking with emotion.
“What the hell are you two morons doing?” Hector bellowed, pulling Lucas off of Orion.
Before Lucas had a chance to tell Hector what Orion had done, Helen’s voice boomed out across the island issuing a challenge to Zeus. Lucas realized that as a full immortal, she could meet him in single combat, and none of her partially mortal champions could step in to stop it, not even him. Clever girl, Lucas thought. I could strangle her right about now.
They all looked up and saw the clouds flash with lightning. The waves stilled like time had stopped and the aurora borealis appeared, sending eerie neon colors dancing across the sky.
The chaotic battle on the beach paused for a moment as man and beast craned their heads to watch the impossible spectacle.
Thunder rolled. Orange fire erupted in midair as Hecate set the battleground in the sky. Lucas thought about flying to Helen.
“She can handle it, Luke,” Hector said urgently. “I need you here.”
The Myrmidons took that particular moment to regroup into their precise phalanx, shields front and top, spears sticking out like a porcupine. A full unit again, they surged forward like an ancient war machine.
“Form the line!” Hector commanded, holding his bloody sword aloft.
Lucas, Orion, and Jason jumped up like a chip in their heads made them automatically respond to their general. They spread out across the front line, each of them taking a battalion to lead, and their infantry fell into ranks behind them.
The Myrmidons charged.
Helen and Zeus appeared in the middle of the field of wildflowers. Zeus looked around, taking in the purple mountains, and the half-modern, half-ancient metropolis that worked like a counterbalance in the distance across from the alpine range. He stared at every flower, every bug, every gust of wind, measuring them all.
“Well done,” he said approvingly. “Alive in every detail. Hades taught you a lot about life by making you slog through that barren hellscape of his, didn’t he?”
“He did. As hard as it was, I love him for the training he gave me. I can see more clearly because of it.”
Zeus breathed in the air, letting his head drop to the side in pleasure, appreciating every nuance of Helen’s world, like a foodie would a fine wine. “You learned well. You are truly gifted, sweet girl. Pity you can’t do more with Everyland. It’s still unfinished.”
“No it isn’t. It served its purpose,” Helen said quietly. “And I give it to you without reservation. You are the sole ruler of Everyland.”
Zeus tested Helen’s commandment by turning a white flower red and then white again with a thought.
“Thank you,” he said, smiling at her. He held out a hand gallantly. “Shall we to Tartarus?”
Helen looked at his offered hand and shook her head slowly. “That wasn’t actually the deal, as you’ll recall,” she said. “I agreed to give you Everyland in exchange for my family’s safety. I never agreed to go to Tartarus.”
Zeus sighed like he regretted Helen’s decision. “I really wanted to avoid a fight. You know I’ll have to destroy you if you do this,” he said reluctantly.
“How?” Helen asked, backing away from him. “I gave you Everyland—my gift to you—but I didn’t give you its borders. Those I keep for myself.”
Zeus looked around in a panic. Helen knew he was trying to open a portal and leave. She could feel it, but he couldn’t do it. And as long as Helen existed and held ownership of the borders, he never would be able to leave.
“Welcome to my Trojan horse,” she said with a tight smile. “Enjoy. You’re going to be stuck inside it for eternity.”
Helen saw Zeus’ face freeze with horror, and then she left him, locked in her heavenly prison forever.
Helen appeared on the battlefield and looked around frantically. A part of her expected to find Zeus standing right behind her, laughing at her insane attempt to imprison him, but he wasn’t. She concentrated and could feel him in Everyland, screaming at the beautiful blue sky. He really was trapped. Helen allowed herself one half-crazed laugh before she started running.
Helen negotiated the uneven ground, trying to peer through the confusion of smoke, shouts, and combatants running this way and that. The Kraken was still pounding the beach with its tentacles, killing indiscriminately. Combatants from both sides scrambled over the dunes in their desperate attempt to flee from it.
She stumbled forward, her feet catching on something and sending her sprawling. When she looked back, she saw that she’d tripped over a dead Myrmidon. Something moved under her, and she realized she’d landed on another Myrmidon. This one was barely alive, but he still recognized her.
“Tyrant,” he hissed, clamping on to her wrists.
Helen broke free and clambered off of him. She looked around and saw dozens of bodies—Scions, Myrmidons, and strange sea monsters—all entangled in death after what must have been a huge skirmish. She climbed to her feet and ran to the tent. Luckily, she found her family there as she’d hoped.
There were several dozen soldiers left, gathered around the map table, which they had pulled out in front of the tent so they had room to gather around it.
Lucas spotted Helen first and ran to her.
“What happened?” he asked, holding her tightly to his chest. “We heard you challenge Zeus.”
Helen pulled back and looked Lucas in the eye. “I beat him,” she said, still not wholly believing it herself. The other Scions grouped around her, making shocked sounds. “I tricked him and trapped him in Everyland. As long as I exist, he’s never getting out. What about the Myrmidons?” she asked.
“We think there are only three left,” Castor said darkly. “Telamon had them retreat. They’re done—for today, anyway.”
“We still have that Kraken to deal with,” Hector reminded her, his face grim.
Helen nodded and turned to Orion. “Does Poseidon control the Kraken?” she asked.
“Sort of,” Orion replied. “He can set it loose and call it back again, but once it’s free, it mostly does its own thing.” He gestured to the slapdash carnage around them.
“All right,” Helen said with a sharp nod. “I guess Poseidon’s next.”
“Helen? Are you sure that’s the wisest—” Jason began, but Helen didn’t let him finish.
“Challenge! I challenge Poseidon!” she shouted, somewhere in the direction o
f the ocean. Nothing happened. “Damn it!” Helen swore, turning to face the group. “Does anyone have a pumpkin?”
Cassandra went to one of the campfires and pulled a pot off the flame. She dumped the liquid out quickly and came back to Helen, placing the pot on the sand in front of her. Helen looked at the pot skeptically.
“Cauldron,” Cassandra said with a shrug, like it was self-explanatory. The pot disappeared, and orange fire erupted in a circle as Hecate accepted the offering.
Poseidon came up the beach, flanked on all sides by his fellow Olympians. He stopped just outside the ring of fire but wouldn’t enter it. Hermes was at his side, speaking to him urgently.
“She did what?” Poseidon remarked, his surprise making him loud enough for Helen to hear. He glanced back at Athena, and she nodded once to confirm what Hades had told her.
“She defeated Zeus,” Athena announced. Helen could have sworn she saw a small smile tilt up the edges of Aphrodite’s lovely mouth before she schooled it straight again.
“Poseidon. I’m calling you out. Get in the ring,” Helen commanded, trying hard to ignore the fact that he looked exactly like Lucas.
“And why would I do that?” Poseidon answered with a sneer. “So you can send me straight to Tartarus? I’m no Worldbuilder. I can’t control the portals like you can.”
“That’s right. I can control the portals, and none of you can. You’d better remember that,” Helen yelled back, her anger rising until her cheeks were hot and her fingers dropped sparks from the tips, like her hands were spilling stars on the sand. “And if one of you even breathes on a mortal the wrong way, I swear I’ll hunt you down and send you to Tartarus. Now, get in the ring, Poseidon. Or forfeit this fight, take all your smelly monsters, and get the hell away from my family.”
Poseidon took a step forward and glared at Helen from across the ring as Athena whispered frantically in his ear. Finally, he settled down, but Helen saw a grudge growing in his eyes.
“I forfeit!” Poseidon snarled. Helen felt her knees quiver with relief, but she couldn’t back down just yet.
“Anyone else?” she said, looking each Olympian in the face. “Does anyone else want to fight me?” They all dropped their gazes. “Good! Now shut that giant, rotten squid up or I’ll send it—and one of you—to Tartarus on principle.”
Helen stared extra long at Apollo, just so he knew who would be joining the Kraken in Tartarus if it came to that.
Poseidon’s eyes drilled into hers from across the ring. His bare chest swelled with incensed breaths. Helen met his stare and didn’t flinch. She held all the cards. He couldn’t even curse her, and somehow, he seemed to know it. After a few tense moments, he raised a hand, concentrated, and the Kraken began to retreat. Strange trumpets sounded, and the rest of his sea-creature army pulled back, slithering or scurrying to the water.
“Forever is a long time, Helen,” Poseidon warned as his army retreated. He narrowed his eyes at her. “We’ll be seeing you.”
“And we’ll be watching you,” Helen warned, gesturing to her group of Scions. Unless Helen put all the gods in Tartarus, she couldn’t stop them from wandering the Earth. All she and her family could do was make sure the Olympians didn’t hurt anyone. She shared a look with Hector and saw her worry mirrored there. The Scions may have won the war, but that didn’t mean the threat was gone.
Poseidon turned and walked down to the waves, disappearing beneath them. As the rest of the Olympians dispersed, some with looks of bitterness, others with respect, Aphrodite came forward and took both of Helen’s hands in hers.
“Sister,” she said, kissing Helen on the cheek as if they had just met up for lunch. Helen laughed, shaking her head. Aphrodite had always hated wars and tended to ignore that they were happening altogether. “Come visit me soon. You and Lucas. I’ll let you know where I settle, but I’m thinking Cyprus for the winter.”
“We’ll see you soon,” Helen promised, chuckling and shaking her head.
Even though Aphrodite had caused Helen as much trouble as Zeus, there was no way she could ever stay upset with her for long. Like Claire, no matter what Aphrodite did, Helen knew she would end up forgiving her in about five seconds. Sisters were annoying that way.
Aphrodite pulled back and stroked Helen’s cheek. “That beautiful face,” she murmured, before flying away in a nimbus of golden light.
Helen turned to look at the crowd gathered behind her and saw her father first. Jerry was propped up between Kate and Noel. He looked pale and thin, but he managed to stand up mostly by himself.
“Dad!” Helen said, surprised.
“Hey, Len,” he said. He gave her a lame wave, looking awkward and uncertain—and a little scared of her.
“Are you going to be all weird with me now?” she asked, dreading it.
“No,” he answered a little too quickly.
“You better not,” she said, giving him a hug. It took a second before he relaxed into it and hugged her back, but when he did, she knew that things would figure themselves out between the two of them, given some time.
After she and her father separated, there was a blur of congratulations and hugs from everyone—except for Lucas. She scanned the scene around her, looking for him.
Helen saw Hector ordering people to get busy, directing them to dismantle the camp and lead the dazed mortals away from the multitude of strange bodies on the beach before they woke up from Hypnos’ influence. She saw Pallas and Daedalus trying to explain themselves to Castor, who listened to them in stony silence. She saw Jason and Ariadne rushing to aid as many of the most seriously injured as they could. She even saw Orion and Cassandra. They had broken away from the group and were speaking softy to each other. But no Lucas.
Helen revolved around in a circle, her heart sinking as she searched for him. She found him a few paces behind her, waiting patiently for her to discover him there.
“My turn?” he asked with a small smile. Helen nodded, thinking how strange it was that he and Poseidon looked exactly alike, but Poseidon made her skin crawl, while Lucas made it tingle.
“I think it’s our turn,” she said, walking into his arms.
“Finally,” he breathed, and kissed her without guilt or shame or any worry about what it meant for the future. He kissed her out in the open, in front of everyone, and for once there was nothing to hide and no reason for either one of them to stop.
It was like they were kissing for the first time.
EPILOGUE
The Patriots won, so Helen’s dad was in a great mood all night. Kate made Lucas and Helen eat way too much at dinner, insisting that since Christmas was three days away, there was no point in trying to eat healthy until after New Year’s, anyway. Kate hadn’t officially moved in yet, but she was there nearly every day. Jerry and Kate were waiting until after the wedding in May to officially live together. For Helen, it was the perfect Sunday night “dinner with the boyfriend” she thought she’d never have. They even argued a bit about politics.
They stayed up late, just hanging out. Helen and Lucas didn’t have school the next morning—not because the high school was still going through major reconstruction (which it was) but because they were on winter break. Despite the fact the high school had been half knocked over, the students had been taking their regular classes, dodging rubble, and wearing their jackets in the freezing-cold classrooms without missing too many days because Whalers are stubborn like that. The drama club had even started rehearsing A Midsummer Night’s Dream again even though they had to do it out in the subzero cold and not-at-all-summery parking lot because the auditorium didn’t exist anymore. The show must go on. Hergie would have been proud.
There was still a lot of confusion over what had happened. For the past month and a half, everyone on Nantucket had gone around scratching their heads about the “tidal wave” that had ripped up the beach, killed twelve unfortunate people, and injured many more, so soon after the Halloween riots. It was the only topic of conversation at the News S
tore and at Kate’s Cakes. Every time a customer asked Helen what she remembered about that day, she’d say she was too far inland to actually see the wave, and she was glad for it. Then she’d hustle off to get them more coffee.
Some people remembered the Kraken, but they were slowly being talked out of the so-called hallucinations. When someone got belligerent about what they saw, the Delos family would make sure that Andy got together with them for a little “talk.” Her powers as a siren came in handy when it came to making sure no one panicked and gave a story to the reporters who had started hanging around Nantucket. Helen had tasked Hypnos with rehabilitating the worst cases—hypnotizing them into re-remembering the whole thing as something else. It worked for the most part, but there would always be stories about the giant squid that had attacked Nantucket Island. A new myth had been born, and Helen wondered if this was how most of them had gotten their start.
Like Hypnos, the other small gods were eager to get on Helen’s good side. They’d bet wrong when they’d sided with Olympus and now they were doing whatever she asked to make it up to her—starting by cleaning up the mess that the battle had left behind and helping to sell the tidal-wave cover story. Helen couldn’t give those twelve people their lives back; she was just happy that the mortal casualties had been so low.
The Scions hadn’t been so lucky. Every House had suffered severe losses, but mostly the House of Thebes. Castor was now Head, and there were many supporters who whispered that he always should have been, regardless of which Delos brother was born first. Daedalus had somehow talked his way out of being overthrown. He’d given a great speech, agreed to share leadership with Orion, and his House had forgiven him. All the Houses would rebuild, as would the army of Poseidon’s creatures, unfortunately. Helen knew that someday the Scions would have to deal with that threat again. Poseidon and the other Olympians couldn’t curse her friends and family, but they could still find ways to work against them. The Scions would have to always be ready for that.
Just like Helen would have to be ready to repay those three tasks she promised Hecate. Helen hoped that the Titan didn’t ask her do anything immoral. But even if she did, someday Hecate would call in the debt, and Helen would have to pay no matter what was asked of her. Her debt didn’t worry Helen as much as Lucas’s did.
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