“It was more like a good stun,” Cristos snorted. “Not enough to really hurt me, but enough to put me in my place. I had a hard time in training at first, when we realized I hadn’t inherited Zeus’s powers. Instead of accepting it, like I should have, I was a little rebellious. Eventually, I settled into the powers I did have. Training was much easier then.”
“I’d never imagine a god having trouble with anything,” I mused. “Other than a human being better than them, that is.”
“You know your history,” Arsenio laughed.
“I watched a lot of movies,” I admitted, blushing slightly.
His eyes widened with excitement as he gave Cristos a look.
“Oh no,” Cristos mumbled, rolling his eyes.
“Finally!” Arsenio crowed. “Someone who will understand my movie references!”
He held his hand up for a high five, which I surprisingly obliged him, shooting Cristos a confused look.
“He’s always quoting something,” he said, shrugging.
“And he never understands them because he’s no fun,” Arsenio added, his grin growing wider by the second. “You have no idea how many I’ve been wanting to say, how many I’ve held in because I didn’t think it would be appropriate.”
“Appropriate,” Cristos snorted. “Said the man trying to get Aphrodite to fall for him.”
“Aphrodite?”
“The most beautiful woman who ever existed,” Arsenio said dreamily, seeming to fall into a vision of her.
Cristos laughed again, still leading us in the right direction. I’d never seen this side of either of them, the brotherly love and teasing they shared brightening both of their countenances greatly. With a start, I suddenly realized my presence, their mission with me, had been what made them cold and brooding. They’d disagreed over how I should be treated and it had driven a wedge between them until now.
“What about you, Avalon?” Arsenio asked, still smiling stupidly. “What was your home life like?”
“My mom was great,” I said, smiling softly, thinking of how she must be worried about me, having not heard from me within the normal time. I had imagined the Red Cross calling her, telling her they hadn’t been able to find me after the explosion.
She probably thought I was dead.
“And my dad,” I continued, my voice wavering slightly as I tried to keep tears at bay. “Well, at least the man I thought was my dad, was a heroic man.”
I frowned, thinking about how he hadn’t been my father at all. Had he known? Was there ever any inkling that I didn’t belong to him?
“He died in Afghanistan, right?” Cristos asked quietly.
“Yes,” I mumbled. “He, uh, was one of the first teams to be sent over when the war started there. Of course, the fighting had been going on for years, decades even, before then, but this was when they officially declared it again. He was a marine, and very handsome from what I can tell of his pictures.”
“You don’t remember him?”
“No.”
I fell silent, hearing my mother’s voice as she’d told me the story of his death, holding the box the president had given her after, housing his medal of honor.
“They went on a night raid, trying to get some civilians who’d been caught by terrorists, when they were ambushed. Dad was the leader of his squad and managed to get them all out, including two of the civilians. He caught the grenade that was thrown after them, too. Laid right down on top of it and told everyone else to run.”
Silence followed my short, summed up retelling, the gods apparently having nothing to say. I couldn’t help but think of what would have happened if I’d been so brave as to jump on the grenade that had killed Dimitri.
“You know,” I said after a few minutes, rubbing the moisture beneath my eye. “I don’t care what this thing inside me says, or what everyone else is saying. That man was my father, not Typhon. He took care of me, even if it was for only a short time. He loved me. I’d rather honor him with that place in my life than a beast I’ve never met.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, truly,” Arsenio said, his eyes revealing he was talking about more than the death of my dad.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, wiping away the rest of the tears on my cheeks.
The conversation had taken a turn I hadn’t expected, but for some reason it had felt nice to share that part of my life with them. It seemed I appeared even more human now, the knowledge of my life before gods having revealed to them how helpless I really was.
The dreaded silence fell upon us once more as we trudged along our own path, my own thoughts of my previous life swirling through my mind. It felt like at least another hour had passed before Cristos suddenly stopped, holding his hand up in a motion to stay silent.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up in alarm as worry flooded through me, memories of how the air had felt right before the Titans attack the school seeming much like the space around us did now. Fear choked down the Titan, shoving her under a metaphorical rock as I shook in my boots. She fought back, trying to come to the surface to save us from whatever was coming, but my emotions proved to be too large a barrier for her to breech.
Slowly, silently, Cristos reached into the bag on his back, drawing his sword. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Arsenio do the same with his bow, concentration on his face as he looked for whatever it was Cristos had seen or felt.
As the golden hilt of Cristos’s sword glinted in the sunlight, I saw movement in the trees to my left, low to the ground, and jumped, stumbling into the path of whatever was lying in wait for us.
The beast that leaped out of its hiding spot was decidedly not a Titan. That fact alone startled me enough that I froze, staring as it descended upon me. I’d only ever seen drawings of griffins, like most of the other things I’d encountered recently, but none the depictions had done the real thing justice.
With the head of an eagle, its beak sharp and shining, and body of a lion, it looked much more joined together than I would have thought, moving easily from feathers to fur. At its side were massive wings, folded in on themselves as it pounced. The scorpion tail at the end was poised and ready to strike, the poisonous tip already leaking its deadly venom.
Hands grabbed me from behind, throwing me to the ground as an arrow shot out at the monster, momentarily deterring it from my path. With a groan, I crushed into the earth, Cristos landing on top of me, acting as a shield, his sword clattering on the rocks next to my head.
The scuffle between Arsenio and the griffin was reaching alarming sound levels as Cristos jumped to his feet, grabbing up his weapon and charging into the battle. All I could do was squirm my way backwards, stopping when my back ran into a tree.
Out of all the fights I’d watched the two of them take on together, I’d never actually watched them fight, having been more preoccupied with my own battles at the time. Arsenio was fast and efficient with his bow, shooting up into the trees, knocking branches free that fell and landed on the griffin. I could see it wasn’t meant as a way to end the fight, but more to distract the animal while Cristos took care of it.
And then there was Cristos, wielding the sword that carried lightning with it everywhere it went. I couldn’t even imagine him ever having trouble with his training, he used it with such excellence. Every move the griffin made, he was ready, blocking blows and jabbing into the fleshy parts of its body.
The griffin made several grabs for the sword, snapping its beak angrily whenever it missed. Panic seized my chest when the scorpion tail narrowly missed Cristos, slamming into the ground instead. Arsenio took the opportunity to lodge a well-placed arrow into it right then, sticking it into the ground and rendering the tail useless.
Almost as if it was their plan when dealing with such things, Cristos lopped the tail off, the beast screaming in agony as it lost its appendage. With one swift movement, it reared up on its back legs, wings unfolding, ready to fly away, but Cristos was waiting. Using the same swing that had severed the tail, his
sword came around full circle, catching the griffin in the belly. It uttered a sound almost like a moan, faltering, all paws coming back to the ground, and was silenced by another slice to the throat. Arsenio seemed to have had the same idea, an arrow piercing its eye at the same moment.
They were like parts of the same machine, Arsenio and Cristos, trained to work together, to read the other’s mind in battle and do their own part to help. It was amazing, the way they worked so flawlessly. It was no wonder they were feared among the Titans—they truly were inescapable it seemed.
Breathing heavily, Cristos instantly turned to me, eyes traveling the length of my body before he spoke.
“Are you hurt?”
“Just a few scrapes,” I answered, shaking my head. “Why did it attack us? For food?”
“No,” Cristos answered, shaking his head as he sheathed his sword. “It wanted the gold on the sword most likely. Griffins don’t particularly like people meat. Why didn’t you move? Or use your powers?”
He looked at me like I was stupid for having not jumped into action. To be fair, the Titan had done so in other situations when I was in trouble.
“I couldn’t,” I confessed. “The Titan—I pushed her down too far.”
Arsenio turned then, curiosity in his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
Chapter Eighteen
“Explain to me again how your powers work,” Arsenio said from the other side of the fire that night, fascination still written in his every look.
“It’s like the Titan is behind a wall,” I started again, sighing. “She only comes forward when I need her, when I’m really in danger. The only thing I seem to be able to control is the fire, and only when I’m really upset.”
“Like the time you lit your feet on fire,” Cristos stated quietly, adding another rare thought to the conversation. He’d been mostly silent as I explained what I was feeling inside me, offering very little at random intervals.
“Why do you think your powers only work in those instances?” Arsenio inquired.
I stared at him, not sure if I should confess the reason I’d come to myself.
“She’s protecting me,” I answered, deciding to go with the truth. “She’s a part of me and I’m a part of her. She doesn’t want me to get hurt.”
“You talk about your Titan half like it’s another person,” he said, stroking the side of his face as he continued to look at me.
“Is it not like that for you?” I asked, surprised.
“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I’ve never felt the difference between my god and mortal halves.”
“Mortals and Titans were never meant to mix together,” Cristos butted in again. “They existed in different times, safe from each other. The Undoing has changed many things. I’m sure Avalon isn’t the only one to have been cursed with the reality of it all.”
I cringed, hearing him refer to part of me as a curse. The words stung, even though I’d thought of them myself several times before.
“You think there are more like her?” Arsenio asked, turning his attention to the god.
“I don’t know,” he mused. “But you can bet the Titans will try to make more, if only to gain the upper hand on us.”
“We need to send word to Olympus,” Arsenio remarked, standing. “They’ve been in the dark about this long enough.”
“Not yet,” Cristos ordered, the weight of his command hanging in the air.
“We can’t take on the whole of the Titans by ourselves,” Arsenio argued. “What are you planning to do?”
“They might be open to a trade,” Cristos thought out loud. “If they thought a demi-Titan was worth more than something they already had.”
“You mean Hades’ helm? Not a chance.”
“It’s worth considering,” Cristos argued. “If the whole of the Olympians show up, there won’t be any room for negotiations. The fight would start immediately and we would lose any window of opportunity we had.”
I watched their exchange with a pain in my chest. After all of our talking and sharing stories from our life, after treating me like I was one of the group and not their prisoner, after repeatedly saving my life, I was still only a pawn to them, something to get them closer to their end goal.
Silently, blocking any more of their conversation out, I stood and walked away from the camp, not stopping until even the light from the fire had faded away behind me.
It was still so cold, the usual snow on the ground, untouched by anything or anyone but me. I didn’t worry about being taken or coming across another monster—I wouldn’t be allowed to wander off alone. No doubt, one of them was already coming after me, to chastise me for straying so far from camp.
Leaning against the nearest tree, I slid down to the ground, not even caring my clothes would get wet and make the chill worse.
Who had I been kidding? I was never a part of the group. Cristos had told me himself I was still their prisoner, even after he’d kissed me. They wanted me because they thought it gave them the upper hand over something, nothing more. Fooling myself into thinking they were going to take care of me had been stupid. I still had just as much a chance of dying in Sicily as the day I’d been taken from Moscow.
My protection needed to come from within, and not just from the Titan. I needed to save myself from thinking I would be okay. If death was in my near future, now was the time to start reconciling, to deal with all of things I’d wanted out of life and didn’t get.
A quick burst of anger shot through me and my skin flamed, the Titan having taken the opportunity to break through for a second. It was short lived, just long enough to dry my clothes so they could get wet again. With all the strength I could muster, I shoved her further down, trying to banish the tingling my skin suffered from whenever the power presented itself.
“You come out when I say,” I mumbled to myself. “I’ll not be forced to suffer extreme pain just because you want some fresh air.”
I could feel her distaste at my words, but she calmed all the same, wrapping herself into a tiny ball and falling silent for the first time in a long time. It didn’t matter, though; now that I knew she was there, I was always aware of her.
I heard the footsteps before I saw my captor coming to find me, the snow muffling the sound slightly. I didn’t realize I’d hoped Arsenio would be the one to retrieve me until I saw Cristos’s face.
“You’re quite a way from camp,” he said simply, looking down at me.
I refused to look at him then, turning my eyes away to something—anything—else.
“I needed some space,” I replied shortly.
“Is something wrong?”
I did look at him then, anger filling me, the Titan pushing to the surface. At any instant, I could burst into flame. All I had to do was let the wall down.
“I’m still just a pawn to you,” I spat out. “Something you’re willing to trade to get what you want. It doesn’t matter to you if I live or die, does it?”
His eyes widened in surprise as I got to my feet, my skin steaming as I fought the desire to catch fire right then and there.
“I thought something had changed,” I continued bitterly. “But I was wrong. You said so yourself. I’m your prisoner and I don’t know what possessed me to think differently.”
“Avalon,” he said slowly, watching the snow around me melt as I heated further. “I’m not actually going to trade you to the Titans. You left before I could explain the rest.”
“What?” I asked, stopping short.
“I don’t know what the Titans would do to you,” he shrugged, taking a tentative step forward. “I was hoping you would agree to be part of the trap, to offer yourself as a trade. If they took it, I would have come back for you.”
“You would have?”
“Of course,” he replied, appearing offended I’d ever thought he would actually surrender me to them. “You don’t deserve to be trapped with them.”
I looked at him then, really examining t
he man in front of me. He had an easy handsomeness to him, despite living on the road for so long. His hair was partially pulled back, the ends brushing over his shoulders and lying against his black shirt. The strength that came from being a god was obviously displayed in his physique, defined muscles hugged by the fabric on his body. It wasn’t any of those things that held my attention, however. Instead it was his green eyes, piercing and strong. They presented the truth of what he was saying, as well as the softening emotions for me I’d seen over the past week.
“I thought I was one of them,” I stated quietly, watching as he took another step forward.
He nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line, eyes traveling over my face.
“I did, too.”
“And now?” I asked, feeling the same heaviness in the air as the last time he’d held me in his arms.
“Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t know any more.”
“What changed your mind?”
“I’ve never known a Titan who would risk themselves to save an Olympian. They exist, in stories and the memories of my family. You could be one of them.”
He inched forward, coming close enough to touch me as he licked his lips.
“And I have this feeling, here,” he whispered, pointing to his torso. “A feeling I get whenever I look at you, one that won’t go away no matter what I do.”
“What kind of feeling?” I asked, feeling slightly breathless as my body cooled, calling out to be held by him again.
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “But it hurts. It tells me to protect you, to keep you safe, to never let anyone get close to you. It scares me. It drives me insane. Whenever I see you cry, it tells me to do whatever it takes to make it stop. When you’re angry, it compels me to follow you and make it all right. When you were almost attacked by that griffin, it filled me with a fear like I’ve never known.”
“That’s a lot to have to feel,” I said lamely, not knowing how to reply. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because it’s driving me insane,” he growled, his hand reaching out and brushing over my fingers. “I can’t think of you as only a Titan any more. I look at you and all I can think of is how badly I want to—”
Adrastia (The God Chronicles Book 4) Page 13
