Titans

by Kate O'Hearn

  The sound of footsteps behind them made everyone jump. “They are connected,” Tryn said as he came through the bushes surrounding Zephyr’s back garden. “I went to the dorm to check on that Vulcan residue, and from what I can see, the Mimics are single-celled organisms. To function properly, they must be linked at a cellular level. But I’m not sure if they’re psychically linked as well.”

  “I didn’t understand a word you just said,” Astraea said.

  “You mean like bacteria?” Jake asked. He looked to Astraea. “I studied biology at school.”

  Tryn nodded. He turned to Astraea. “There are billions of cells that work together to make you—you. But the Mimics are different. They have only one cell, which might be why they can copy us. But they aren’t like us at all.”

  “Nope, I still don’t understand any of this,” Zephyr said to Astraea.

  Tryn frowned. “They’re kind of like big bubbles. There’s only one component to them, so they can change their shape whenever they need to.”

  “And you think they’re all connected?” Astraea asked.

  Tryn nodded. “But I can’t be completely sure.”

  “I can,” said Jake. “Considering the one that came here today knew that Vulcan had been here. Then she tried to kill me.”

  “Another one was here?” Tryn cried.

  Jake quickly told him what had happened. “At least we know the venom-dipped arrows work.”

  “That’s one good thing,” Tryn agreed. “But if they are connected, when we attack one, it’s like we attacked all of them. Maybe they can even communicate from great distances.”

  “Just so I understand,” Astraea said, struggling to grasp it all. “If they are single-celled thingies like you said, would it also explain why Vulcan was back at school?”

  “What?” Jake cried.

  Astraea nodded. “But I don’t think he recognized us from last night.” She paused and frowned. “But then again, at the end of the class, he did tell us and the centaurs to stay. I panicked, so I told Vulcan that Themis needed to see us. But now they know we’re all involved.”

  Jake nodded. “We need somewhere new to hide. If that Mimic knew Vulcan was here, others must. Now that she’s dead too, they’ll come looking for her as well.”

  “We’re out of time,” Tryn said. “If we are going to do anything to stop them, we have to move now.”

  “How?” Jake asked. “What can we do?”

  Astraea came forward. “We find Cylus and his herd, and then we use that ring to go to Tartarus and free the real Titans!”

  33

  BEFORE LONG THEY WERE BACK on the roof, except for Zephyr, who was in the sky flying in large circles to watch for any signs of attack.

  Jake handed out the arrows he had, and while they waited, he asked Nesso to try biting the crystal goblet again. When she did, two streams of yellow venom poured down the side.

  “Thank you, Nesso,” Astraea said when the snake finished.

  “You are mossst welcome,” Nesso replied politely.

  After Jake translated, he nodded. “Okay, she gave us the first venom this morning, and now it’s afternoon. So she can give us venom at least twice a day. The trouble is, we don’t know how many Mimics there are.”

  “There are more of them than there are us,” Tryn said. A wave of sadness swept over his face and he looked away. “I have always prided myself on being just like my mother. She is gentle and strong and has never had to fight for anything. She’s always saying there is a peaceful solution to every problem . . . but now . . .”

  Jake patted him on the back. “But now it’s time for you to become like your dad. He’s from Earth, and we humans fight for those we care for.”

  Tryn nodded, but Astraea could see this would take a heavy toll on her friend. “I don’t want to fight either,” she said. “But they won’t reason with us. They want Titus and don’t care who they hurt to get it. They’ve stolen my parents and so many others. If it means I have to fight and even kill those monsters to get them back, I will.”

  “Me too,” Jake agreed.

  Finally Tryn sighed. “You’re right. I had hoped we could negotiate with them, but after everything you said about the centaur today, and what Vulcan said to us last night, I know that talking won’t work.”

  “I’m sorry, Tryn. I know you don’t like violence, but you are going to have to learn to fight,” Astraea said sympathetically.

  Tryn turned to her. “When I said my people don’t fight, I didn’t mean they couldn’t. They can—which is why we have avoided it. Once we start, it is difficult to stop.”

  “Don’t worry, Tryn. When this is over, you will stop. We’ll help you,” Astraea said.

  He didn’t look convinced and turned away.

  They lay on the roof, watching Zephyr circling in the sky.

  Jake lay back with his arms crossed behind his head. He sighed. “Who’d have ever dreamed that I’d be here watching a flying hor—I mean Zephyr. She is so beautiful up there, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, she is,” Astraea agreed, feeling proud and grateful that Zephyr was her best friend.

  Above them, Zephyr tilted her wings and swept in low. “Here comes Cylus and his herd. Look at what they have with them.”

  Astraea crawled up to the edge of the roof and peered down. Cylus and his friends had more bows and arrows with them, but they also had swords and daggers strapped to their waists where their torsos became equine. Cylus was carrying a flame-sword.

  “They look ready for war,” Jake said. He looked at Astraea. “Remind me not to make them mad.”

  “Cylus!” Astraea called tightly. “Go around to the stable. We’ll meet you there.”

  “What are you doing up there?” Darek called.

  “Get to the stable and we’ll tell you.” Astraea, Tryn, and Jake moved to the back of the roof to climb down.

  When they arrived in the stable, Zephyr was already inside, explaining what had happened to Jake and ending with why they were hiding on the roof.

  Astraea went up to Cylus. “Where did you get all these weapons—especially that flame-sword?”

  Cylus shrugged. “We needed weapons, so we broke into the armory and took them.” He held up the flame-sword. “You said there were Shadow Titans, and Minerva told us these were the only things that killed them.” He looked at his herd. “These cowards wouldn’t take them because they’re scared they’ll get burned.”

  Astraea looked over to Render and the others, and they quickly glanced away. Finally she said, “The Mimics will be coming back, looking for the centaur Mimic as well as Vulcan. So whatever we plan to do, we’d better do it soon.”

  Cylus looked at Jake. “Describe the Mimic centaur. What did she look like?”

  Jake shrugged. “Well, she kinda looked like you, if I’m honest. She was tall, had the same color, um, body as you. Her dark hair was piled high on top of her head”—he looked at Astraea—“she must have used a lot of product to get her hair that high!” Then he looked back to Cylus. “Oh, and she had black eyes. . . .”

  “That was my mother!” Cylus cried. “You killed her?”

  Cylus advanced on Jake and he shied away, holding up his hands. “Hey, hey, dude, dude, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. But she was going to kill me.”

  “Cylus, stop,” Astraea said. “Leave him alone.”

  Cylus looked back at her and then reached out for Jake. He patted him forcefully on the shoulder. “Thank you! I’ve wanted to do that since I found out she wasn’t my real mother!”

  Jake stood stunned as Cylus congratulated him. The centaur drew a dagger from his hip strap and handed it to him. “Here, this one is my favorite. You’ve earned it.”

  Jake looked down on the sharp blade. “No, it’s all right. I’m good.”

  “What?” Cylus said. “You’re refusing my gift?”

  Astraea leaned in to Jake. “Take the dagger! Centaurs don’t give very often, so when they do, it means a lot. It’ll offend him if yo
u don’t.”

  Jake looked back at Cylus. “I—I am grateful. I just didn’t want to take your favorite away from you. It’s so beautiful. But if you mean it . . .” He held out his hand. “Thank you!”

  Cylus handed over the dagger and grinned. “You’re not bad for a human.”

  “Um—thanks?” Jake said.

  Finally the centaur raised his flame-sword. “All right then, that’s another Mimic down. Let’s go after the rest. If they want a fight, they’ll get one. It is war!”

  “No,” Astraea insisted. “We can’t do this alone, and we don’t know who to trust.”

  “Yes, we do,” Cylus insisted. “We have a lot of others from school who are convinced their parents are not their real parents. We have a small army.”

  “An army of untrained and unarmed fighters,” Astraea said. “No, we need real fighters. Those who have been through war before.”

  “Who’s that?” Jake asked.

  “Everyone who is locked in Tartarus,” Tryn said. He held up his hand to show Vulcan’s ring. “This is a Solar Stream gem. It won’t take us to Xanadu, but it works. It will get us to Tartarus. We can go there and free your families and Jupiter. Then we can return and rise up against the Mimics.”

  Cylus’s eyes were filled with fiery rage. “Fine, then use the ring. I want to go now!”

  Despite protests from Cylus and his herd, they took time to smear Nesso’s toxic yellow venom on the blade edges of the swords and daggers and dip the new arrowheads.

  Nesso tried to offer more, but when she bit into the linen on the goblet, very little came out. “I am empty,” she hissed in surprise.

  Jake offered her a piece of ambrosia cake after she was settled back around his neck and put an extra-large piece in his backpack for later. “Just rest and build up your strength.”

  When the venom was dry, Cylus gave daggers to Astraea and Tryn. Tryn received his with a look of despair on his face.

  “Cheer up,” Cylus said loudly. “We’re going into battle.”

  Tryn looked over to Astraea but said nothing. Finally he nodded.

  As they prepared to leave, Zephyr said good-bye to her parents by rubbing her soft muzzle against them.

  “I still can’t believe those are her parents,” Jake whispered to Astraea. “Especially her father. He’s so, so wild and dangerous.”

  “I know,” Astraea said. “It shows just how special and precious Zephyr is.” She paused and grinned. “Mind you, she gets her temper from her dad. She always wants to stomp people.”

  “Come on, Zephyr,” Cylus called impatiently. “It’s time to fight, not blub about leaving your parents.”

  Zephyr whinnied back angrily, “I am not crying or blubbing or anything! But there’s a chance some of us won’t make it back. I want to say good-bye.”

  That comment stopped everyone. It was true. This wasn’t a child’s game. Astraea suddenly felt a lump in her throat. Was she ready to do this? Did she have the strength? But imagining her parents in Tartarus hardened her resolve. For those she cared about, she was prepared to do anything.

  Jake leaned closer to Astraea while looking at everyone. “What did she just say?”

  When Astraea repeated Zephyr’s message, Jake nodded. “She’s right. . . .”

  “She is,” Tryn agreed. “So before we go, if anyone doesn’t want to come with us, I understand, and there are no bad feelings. We don’t know what we are going to face there. My father told me that Tartarus is beyond horrible. So if you want to back out, now is the time.”

  Cylus shuffled on his hooves. “Just shut up, Tryn, and open the Solar Stream.”

  “Yes, do it now,” Darek said as the other centaurs nodded in agreement.

  Jake put his long skateboard in his pack and then pulled the pack onto his shoulders. “I’m good to go.”

  Astraea looked at everyone, then turned back to Tryn. “Do it,” she said.

  Tryn raised the ring to the wall. But before proceeding, he said, “Get your weapons ready. We don’t know what we’ll encounter.” He looked back at the wall. “Take us to the outside of the prison at Tartarus.”

  The Solar Stream opened immediately with its blazing white swirling light. Tryn started to walk forward with his dagger held high. “This is it, everyone. Let’s go.”

  34

  ASTRAEA KNEW VERY LITTLE ABOUT the Solar Stream. It had been restricted all her life, so as she traveled through the powerful wormhole, she was stunned by the noise and almost unbearable brightness of the colors swirling within it.

  But just as quickly as it started, the journey ended, and they emerged out of the light into a place of darkness, blasting wind, and rain. The ground beneath them was sodden, and foul-smelling mud oozed up over their sandals and hooves, while the sky above was alive with scudding black clouds. Lightning flashed on the horizon.

  “Is this day or night?” Cylus called above the whipping winds.

  “Hey, my hooves are getting stuck,” another centaur complained.

  Tryn looked around. “My father said it was always the same. Terrible.”

  “Where to now?” Zephyr called, pulling her hooves free of the mud.

  “Over there!” Astraea pointed to a large, carved stone arch with two heavy-looking doors. “That must be it.”

  Zephyr’s feathers were blowing in all directions on her tightly folded wings, and her mane stood on end. Astraea’s own long hair whipped painfully across her face, and she wished she’d thought to tie it back. Looking over to Jake, she saw the wind nearly blowing him off his feet, and Tryn had to catch hold of him to keep him upright.

  “This place is awful,” Cylus called. “How can you fight an enemy in this?”

  “Are you sure we want to do this?” Zephyr called.

  “No,” Astraea said. “But our parents are in there. So are the others.” She looked at everyone. “All right, let’s go.”

  They trudged through the thick mud and made it to the doors. Looking up, Astraea felt very small. This was Tartarus—the prison of all prisons, built to hold prisoners of all shapes and sizes. Her mother had been held here many years ago, and even the Olympians and the Big Three had been imprisoned by Saturn when they were children. This place was nothing but sorrow, pain, and nightmares.

  Tryn came forward and grasped one of the large handles. He started to pull, but despite his strength, the door moved only a fraction. “It’s the mud around the doors. Cylus, I need your help.”

  The centaur said nothing but came forward and grasped the handle beside Tryn. Together they heaved and pulled. Slowly the door started to move, and a noxious smell flowed out, making Astraea cough.

  By the time the door was wide enough for all of them to enter, Tryn and Cylus were out of breath and the others were gasping for air.

  “What is that terrible smell?” Zephyr choked.

  “Tartarus,” Tryn said. “That is one of the things my father mentioned. It gets worse the deeper you go.”

  “And you didn’t think to warn us?” Cylus said as he pinched his nose shut.

  “Would it have made a difference? Your mother is in there. Would you let a bad smell stop you from rescuing her?”

  “Of course not,” Cylus shot back.

  “See, there was no point telling you. We have to be here.” Tryn grasped his dagger tighter and entered the prison first.

  Astraea and Zephyr were next inside, followed closely by Jake and then the six centaurs.

  “The plans in your dad’s office showed the cells are on the lower levels,” Tryn said. “The stairs should be over somewhere along that wall.” He pointed to the roughly cut stone wall.

  “Do you think they’re really here?” Jake asked softly. “I mean, like, why aren’t there any guards or anything?”

  “I don’t know,” Astraea admitted. “But there are burning torches; someone has to maintain them. Besides, we’re here now. We have to check.”

  They found the stairs going down deeper into the foul prison. They were wet
and slippery. Astraea had to hold on to the wall to keep from slipping. She looked back and saw Zephyr struggling on her four legs.

  “Whose bright idea was it to come here?” Zephyr complained.

  “Yeah,” a centaur agreed. He was walking slowly on his four hooves and holding on to the wall for support. “These stairs were not built for us.”

  “They shouldn’t be for anyone!” Jake’s face was greenish, and he looked like he was about to be sick. “This place should be condemned.” His hand was trailing on the wall and touched a patch of thick gray liquid. “Gross! What is that?”

  Tryn looked at the liquid and frowned. “It could be from the Mimics. Remember, you said they divided to reproduce. That might be what’s left afterward; it’s a kind of residue.” He leaned closer to touch and then sniff the liquid. “It smells like the Vulcan goo, but it doesn’t seem dangerous to touch.”

  Cylus shook his head. “You are saying that one of those things divided right here on the stairs?”

  “Possibly,” Tryn said.

  “That is disgusting. Now I hate them even more,” Cylus finished.

  When they reached the first level going down, they walked away from the stairs and into a long, dim corridor. Everyone held up their weapons as they moved silently forward. They approached the first cell on the right and Astraea gasped. A woman was lying on a narrow cot with her back to them.

  Astraea looked at the lock on the door. “We need a key.”

  “You mean like this one?” Darek was standing back, holding a large key.

  “Where did you get that?” Tryn asked.

  He shrugged. “It was hanging on the wall back there. I thought we might need it.” The centaur came forward and inserted the key into the lock. It turned easily and the door swung open.

  Astraea was the first in the cell and ran over to the woman. She touched her shoulder and turned her over. “It’s Themis!” she cried. “I knew the one at school was a Mimic!”

  Themis stirred and opened her eyes. “Stay back!” she cried fearfully.