Entwined

by A. J. Rosen

  I spent the rest of the night consumed by my newest dilemma, and yet I still couldn’t make up my mind.

  The Symposium was finally here, and it was going to be a good day. Since it was held in the Hyped, I only had to take the elevator downstairs, so I had a bath instead of a shower, and took my time drying my hair and getting dressed. I was walking into the lobby when I spotted three people standing facing each other near the couch.

  “Kris!” I hugged my best friend the second I saw her. “You look absolutely gorgeous!”

  She was wearing a pale-green dress, which she’d bought the other day when we went shopping on Ermou Street. Domenico was on her right, and Vlad on her left. I greeted them both.

  “Are you excited?” I asked Domenico, seeing how cheery he looked.

  “Yes! Where I come from in Sybaris, we usually have wine piped directly from the vineyards during a Symposium. Do they do the same here?”

  To Domenico’s disappointment, Vlad indicated that the Court didn’t have the facilities to do that.

  “That’s too bad. That’s too bad,” Domenico said.

  Any disappointment he might have felt disappeared less than an hour later. The feast master had done a great job organizing and hosting the Symposium. The schedule was packed with everything from acrobatic stunts to kithara players. The whole room gasped simultaneously as a girl performed a stunt through a hoop rimmed with knives. Then there was a cheesy play retelling the tragic love story of Eros.

  Of course, for me, the real star was the food. The tables were long and solid wood, laden with every kind of food I could think of when I thought of Italy, and even dishes I had no idea existed. Platters filled with countless cheeses, loaves of bread, vegetables, and pastas lined the tables. There were waterfalls of wine scattered around the room for Hellenicus who were of age. Against the far wall sat three dessert benches, showcasing all the classics: tiramisu, cannoli with generous creamy fillings, sweet panettone, moistened cassata from Sicily, and so much more.

  The night ended with a group of musicians serenading the room of full-bellied Hellenicus. The combination of food and music coaxed everyone into sleepiness. Decidedly too exhausted to walk back to the Royal Quarters, Domenico, Kris, and Vlad ended up back at my place for an impromptu sleepover. Both boys slept in the living room while Kris and I slept in my bed.

  The food coma was real! I didn’t wake up until around eleven the next morning, still wearing the cerulean dress and my makeup, Kris asleep still beside me. Letting her continue to sleep off last night’s feast, I dragged myself to the kitchen to make up for missing breakfast. I might have been full last night, but I was hungry as hell this morning.

  “You’re awake.” Vlad was in the kitchen already, cooking.

  “I didn’t know you could cook.”

  “I can.” His brow quirked up as he folded an omelette over in the pan.

  I saw groceries on the counter. “Wait, I thought my mom brought in some food yesterday.”

  “There weren’t any eggs, so I went to get them this morning.” He pointed at the grocery bags. “And I bought you something.”

  “Really?” I climbed up on one of the kitchen stools and began ransacking the groceries. Aside from the usual ingredients for cooking, there were cheesecakes, bags of potato chips, some fruit, and then my hands stopped. “You bought Twinkies!”

  “I did.” He paused cutting the onions. “It’s still your favorite snack, right?”

  Even though it was embarrassing, Twinkies had been my favorite food since childhood. Whenever I was in a bad mood or feeling down, Twinkies provided a healing balm to my troubled heart. I would instantly feel better after I had one.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “How did you know about Twinkies?”

  “Oh.” He scratched the side of his head and ducked his face, but I could still see that he was blushing. “I don’t think you remember this, but when we were kids—you were about six or seven—some kid named Axel tackled me in soccer. Our team ended up losing, and I had a sprained ankle.” He shrugged, shaking his head. “Anyway, you gave me a Twinkie.”

  “I gave you a Twinkie?”

  “And you said it was your favorite food in the world. You said you always ate them whenever you were sad because they made you feel better. Actually, I found your chatter rather annoying, but I knew you were just trying to cheer me up—to make me feel better the only way you knew how to.”

  How on earth had Vlad remembered that?

  As Vlad transferred the omelette to a plate, I pulled my hair back in a ponytail. “It smells so good.” I rested my hands on the counter.

  His hand covered one of mine, and warmth spread through my whole body. There was a part of me that wanted to pull my hand away. A part that wanted me to run, to remove myself from this situation. But before I could do anything, I suddenly felt his arms wrap around me.

  I turned and spread my hand against his chest, intending to push him away, but I couldn’t. Instead, I left it there for a moment before I snaked both of my arms around him. I held on to him as if my life depended on it, absorbing his warmth. Vlad tugged on my hair and drew me to rest on his chest as I listened to his heart beat. Pulling back slightly, he put his hand under my chin and tilted my head so our eyes met. “It will be all right, Avy.” He took a sharp breath then reiterated it with more force this time. “Everything will be all right. I will make damn sure of it.”

  If I ended up in New York or another part of the world, I wanted to remember this moment: the first time the nickname Avy hadn’t bothered me.

  After a while, he let me go. As I turned to avoid having to look at him after our tender moment, I could see Domenico was still sleeping on the couch, his mouth hanging slightly open. “I think you should wake him up. I’ll get Kris.”

  Halfway through the meal, Adrian texted, urging me to meet him outside the Court Hospital. I confirmed I’d be there in twenty minutes.

  Laphria, the sacrificial event, would take place later today and, after waking up so late, Kris was anxious to start getting ready for it as soon as possible. We said our good-byes and the three of them headed back to the Royal Quarters as I rushed off to meet Adrian. I found him outside the building, leaning against one of the wide pillars with his eyes closed. “Adrian.” I spoke softly to avoid startling him.

  “Montgomery.” He smiled.

  “Hey, how’s your sister?”

  His smile morphed into a grin. “She’s getting better.”

  “That’s great! I hope she can get back home soon.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, why did you call me here? Did you figure out what was written on that page?”

  “Yes,” he said. “You’re not going to like it, though.”

  “Try me.”

  “I went back to the library and found the rest of the letters.” Adrian pulled out his phone and showed me a photo of the torn page next to the remaining page that was still left in the book. Together they formed the word τιμωρία.

  “You know I don’t speak Greek, right? This photo doesn’t help me.”

  “It means punishment, Montgomery. The only way to get rid of the gift is by forcing the gods to take it back.”

  “I figured that. But how exactly are we going to get them to do that?”

  Adrian shook his head. “That’s the part you’re not going to like.”

  And he was right. I didn’t.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I hated the answer because we still didn’t have one. My birthday was drawing nearer, and we were no closer to figuring this mess out. I told Adrian not to worry about it for now and to focus on his sister’s recuperation. He seemed sleep deprived and I didn’t want to add more to his plate. He promised me he would try to get some sleep and I rushed back to my suite to get ready for Laphria. Kris, Domenico, and Vlad already had a head start on me,
and none of them had a bird’s nest on their heads to tame.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon trying on practically every single item of clothing my mom had packed for me. I finally settled on an outfit—a short dress, some extra-thick tights, and a long, heavy coat to keep me warm during the outdoor event. I didn’t know exactly what happened at a sacrificial festival, so I hoped my choice was appropriate.

  By the time I had finished making myself look presentable, I needed to head down to the garden to meet Kris, Domenico, and Vlad. The garden was even more crowded than the Hyped lobby had been the other day; it seemed like I was the last Hellenicus to arrive. I caught sight of Kris, Domenico, and Vlad and headed toward them. As we stood waiting for the event to begin, I took in the setup. There was a circular altar sitting in front of the Oak of Dodona. Large logs had been placed carefully on top of the altar and steps had been constructed for a smooth ascent to the pyre. None of this had been here the other day.

  Within minutes, the festival was kicked off with a splendid procession honoring Artemis, the goddess of the hunt, wilderness, wild animals, the moon, and chastity. Trumpets played as Hellenicus danced in front of the procession, leading golden chariots filled with fruit and flowers toward the altar. Some of the Hellenicus men carried large sacks over their shoulders. A group of maidens rode last upon a cart pulled by deer. Among them was Queen Rhea Christoulakis, although she took a back seat to the event while one of the other maidens officiated as priestess.

  Since I had never been to a sacrificial event before, watching the people in the procession make their way up the steps was intriguing. Any excitement I had was quickly stifled when they opened the sacks and started throwing dead birds and other small animals on the altar.

  “I think I might be sick.” I covered my mouth with my palm, trying to suppress the urge to vomit.

  The altar was set on fire and I had to look away as the animals burned. The smell wafting through the crowd was revolting. Right when I was sure I was going to be sick, a trumpeter sounded the signal for the next part of the ceremony: the feast. I wondered how anyone could even think about eating after witnessing that, but I was glad to have an excuse to get away from the sacrificial area.

  Behind the oak tree a massive tent with long tables piled high with food and drinks had been set up. The tablecloths were Artemis’s favorite design: white with a thick band of red lining the edge of the cloth. The fabric was stitched together with silver thread. There were moons in every phase drawn on the white surface of the cloth. Bows and arrows had been strung up along the sides of the tent. A statue of Artemis with her hunting dog was placed in the center with floral arrangements at her feet.

  Everything from Western foods to Mexican cuisine was on display. I even saw sushi on one of the tables. The Hellenicus came from all over the world for the Gathering, and this feast seemed to honor the diversity among us. Everything looked delicious, but the burning smell still sat inside my nostrils.

  We took our seats at the tables, happy to be out of the frigid evening air. Despite the extravagant feast we had had last night, everyone seemed to be in the mood to indulge in food. Everyone except me. After the sacrifice, I found that even taking a sip of water was too hard. I stuck it out for another hour, listening to the conversation between Kris, Domenico, and Vlad, but not participating. Finally, I decided it would be best for me to head back to my suite and crawl into bed.

  It wasn’t until around two in the afternoon the next day that I woke up to my stomach growling in protest. I had had terrible nightmares about the sacrifice and didn’t feel rested despite how late I had slept in. I forced myself to sit up in bed and, leaning back against the pillow, scrolled through my messages and chats. My finger paused on the group chat that Adrian had created with Kris, Vlad, and me. He’d sent an invitation to a party that Renata was throwing tomorrow night at a place called Isles of the Blessed. According to Adrian, Renata was bored with official Gathering events. I couldn’t blame her. After what I’d witnessed last night, I was also desperate for something more normal—preferably with no dead animals involved.

  My stomach growled again, as if to let me know I was taking too long. I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on some jeans and a hoodie, and threw on my grey coat before heading out. Vlad had pretty much cleaned out our fridge yesterday while making lunch for everyone, so I wandered around the Court grounds to find somewhere to eat. I soon found myself outside a diner called Quickfood. The front door of the restaurant opened as a couple wearing matching sweaters came out, and I caught a whiff of burgers and fries. My stomach let out another impatient growl.

  Quickfood was the perfect name for the diner because within fifteen minutes of placing my order, a cheeseburger, fries, and one large chocolate milk shake were placed in front of me. I felt comfortably alone in the sparsely filled diner. I pulled out my phone and opened the Wattpad application, eager to finish the crime story I had found the other day. It was an odd time for a meal, which explained why the only other customers was a group of five Court Guards sitting at the back.

  At least, I had thought they were all Court Guards until one of them leaned back and I could see it wasn’t a guard at all, though she wore the same uniform as the others.

  Mom?

  I choked on my milk shake.

  Before I could even rise to my feet, she stood and quickly left without seeming to notice me. Could that have really been my mom? The woman looked just like her. But why would she be here with Court Guards . . . and dressed like them too? Also, why had she ignored me? Surely she would have noticed me when I walked in. None of it made any sense.

  My phone buzzed. There were at least four missed calls from my dad. “Seriously, Dad, what’s going on?” I whispered to myself. After not hearing from him for days, now he was calling incessantly?

  I texted my mom,

  Where are you? Was that you?

  She’d either think I had officially lost my marbles or she’d know exactly what I was talking about.

  Totally unsettled, I sipped my shake and tried to collect myself. Just then, one of the guards stood and walked past my table on his way to the bathroom. My whole body froze. That weird tattoo! Was he part of the Myrmidons too?

  I was over having so many unanswered questions. Maybe the best approach was the direct approach. Forget sneaking into libraries and doing research. That wasn’t getting me anywhere. I pushed myself up and walked to the table of Court Guards. All of them looked at me as if a horn had suddenly sprouted from the middle of my forehead. I stared right back at them and that was when I noticed that all of them had the tattoo, albeit in different spots. One guy had it on the back of his neck, the guy sitting beside him had his behind his ear, and the guy who had just passed by my table had his in the same spot as the bald guy, on his wrist.

  “So.” I dragged the chair from a nearby table and sat. “Anyone here know a large, bald guard?” All of the guards had the same blank expression on their faces as they looked at me. I wondered if they had been trained to keep their faces so emotionless.

  When they did not reply, I carried on with my questions, becoming more direct to see if I could get some reactions out of them. “What’s up with the tattoo? Are you all in a cult? Is that it?”

  Nothing. Not even a twitch of an eyebrow. Damn. They had been trained well. I decided to change the subject.

  “What about the Faction?” I asked, searching each of their faces. I noticed two of them give each other a sideways glance and I knew I was on the right track now. “Don’t you guys know anything? Some Court Guards you lot are,” I scoffed, folding my arms and leaning back in my chair. I switched it up and asked a serious question now. “Am I being followed?” I swallowed the anxiety growing inside me.

  The guy on my right clenched his fist. He finally opened his mouth, earning a disapproving look from his companions. “You don’t know anything, kid.”

  “That’s
very true.” I fixed my gaze on him. “So why don’t you tell me?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and right when his lips parted—either to spill the beans or to tell me to eff off—I felt a familiar grip on my shoulder. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Outside. Now.”

  “How did you get changed so quick?” Her hair was loose and down, not in a bun like the female guard had had, and she was in her usual camel-colored winter coat. Had it really been her I had seen with the rest of the guards? When she didn’t respond, I asked, “Were you here with them before?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that the face of one of the guards was strained and his breathing appeared to be quick and shallow. But my mom was an entirely different case. She looked at me as if I had been sputtering absolute nonsense, making me feel like maybe I was going crazy after all. She shook her head in disappointment. “Let’s get you home.”

  We didn’t exchange a single word the whole walk to the Hyped. Back at the suite, I couldn’t ignore it any longer. “Mom, where have you been?”

  “What do you mean, Avery?” She answered with a heavy sigh. “You weren’t here, so I went around trying to find you.”

  “No. I mean these last few days. I can count how many times you’ve actually been in this unit. Look, I know Tiana’s your best friend, but—” I breathed out, trying to force my eyes to cooperate. This was not the right time to cry, and having never cried in front of her, I didn’t want to start now. “But I’m your daughter.” Despite my efforts, when I finished that sentence, my heart ached and the dam broke.

  My mom opened her mouth then closed it again. She looked like she had no idea what to do. In the end, she opened her arms and held me. “Oh, Avery.” Her hand caressed the back of my head while she continued to whisper my name as if it was a mantra—one that she hoped would calm me down. And surprisingly, it did. She had never comforted me like this before and I clung to the moment, not knowing if I would ever have this kind of affection from her again.