by G. E. White
No, this gangly man-child was no human, but a god. But regardless of his status his actions had been foolish… yet still the boy lived, free, while Arges and his brothers were lead away in chains.
~ Chapter 31 ~
Clawing his way to consciousness seemed to take days and perhaps it did. Quinn was only aware of the burning along his right side and shoulder and the fuzzy cotton that now seemed to occupy the space where his brain usually sat.
Prying his eyes open took more concentration than he remembered, but the whole effort seemed worth it as he was greeted with the light blue walls of an unfamiliar room.
"And here I thought you would sleep for at least one more day.”
Quinn rolled his head on the pillow to face the person sitting at his bedside and scowled as he faced the young seer. "You know Surina was right, that can be a little irritating... how did you know I was awake?"
"I heard a change in your breathing," Sebastien replied.
"I see," he said. “Where am I?”
“In one of the guest rooms of my penthouse.”
“It’s nice.” Quinn groaned as he shifted, attempting to sit up. "What's wrong with my side?"
"I would refrain from moving about so much. Your side is still healing from the burn – apparently Olympian fire can cook you pretty quickly."
"The Star!" The teen cried in recollection, snapping up in the bed, which he instantly regretted as he hissed through the pain that was pulling at his shoulder.
"Whoa, settle down, everything is alright," the Seer assured.
"Alright? What happened? Where is the Star? Is everyone okay?"
"One question at a time; yes, everyone is okay, as for the Star its right here."
Sebastien reach over and pulled an object from off the bedside table, before placing it on the teen's lap.
Long, slender and almost invisible, it took Quinn a moment to realize that what he was looking at was a sword. A single-handed arming sword he guessed, though it practically hummed as Quinn ran his hand over the flat of the blade, its crystalline edges gleaming in the dying afternoon light.
"This is the star?"
"Apparently, it transformed the moment you touched it,” Sebastien explained.
"I don't understand. I didn't make a wish,” Quinn replied with a shake of his head.
"Lo sé," the older man said with a shrug. "But the others don’t."
"What do you mean?"
"They all believe the sword is an answer to a wish you made. But the truth is that this is how it once looked in the hands of its rightful owner."
Quinn blinked up at the man before raising his left hand to rub at his forehead. "I just woke up. You think you could explain what you mean by that?"
Sebastien gave an amused chuckle. "I suppose. You see, before any of the other three temples had ownership of any piece of the North Star it belonged to the Temple of Athena."
The teen lowered his gaze, lost in thought for a moment. It wasn’t that the idea hadn’t crossed his mind, it was just somewhat surprising, and a bit intimidating to find out that others would soon look to him for… well guidance he supposed. To be honest he wasn’t too sure what exactly he had to offer.
"So Athena… I mean, I have a temple," he said slowly.
"For a time yes, magi of your temple were trained in many different types of combat; learning came pretty easy to them, much like you. Some even say they could read the minds of their enemies. It made many afraid."
"What happened to them?" Quinn asked, a touch of worry coloring his words.
“Most believe they were destroyed. But while the temple’s been abandoned, I believe there are followers of Athena still out there," Sebastien said.
"The Star is safe…” Quinn said, though Sebastien knew the words were more to reassure the teen himself. “And the temples?”
“They’ve been informed that the Star is now in the hands of the gods and appear satisfied."
Quinn gave a sigh of relief. He turned his head to look at the other side of the room and caught sight of large pile of gifts, flowers, and cards sitting on a round table near his bedside.
“Where did those come from?”
“I’m assuming you mean the tower of gifts. They’re ‘Get Well’ presents, seems they’ve come from all over. I believe Justine was the one who sent the fruit basket while Surina left some flowers. James brought some tea and chocolate from Joseph and himself. Jared left a few books for you, should you get bored and, much to my chagrin, Surina allowed Leo to deliver a crossbow as a gift. I believe he calls this one Charlotte. As for the rest, mostly cards from other gods who heard of your heroism.”
Quinn ducked his head, a light blush stealing across his cheeks. “They didn’t have to do that.”
“They wanted to,” Sebastien replied simply. “You’re family.”
They were words Quinn had longed to hear all his years being moved from foster home to foster home, but even now they warmed him more than he thought possible. His breath hitched for a moment as he tried to calm the happy flutter in his chest.
"So what happens now?" he asked.
"Well, to be honest, that's up to you."
"I don't know. Don’t you think I should have some say in it?" came a familiar lilt from the door.
Quinn turned his head and was greeted with a welcome sight. Leaning against the doorjamb stood Surina. Gone was her rust red faux-leather jacket in favor of a simple hooded sweater and a worn pair of jeans.
"Surina you're okay."
"And so are you; despite that boneheaded move you pulled," she said, though the quirk of her lips betrayed her contentment. She entered the room and Sebastien stood gesturing for her to take the seat he had just vacated. "Thanks."
"I'll go make you some soup," Sebastien told Quinn before exiting the room, closing the door behind him.
Now alone with the demi-god Quinn could feel Surina's eyes roving over his bandaged shoulder, beneath her ever-present shades.
“So how do you feel, really?” she asked.
Quinn winced. “Honestly? It still hurts to move, kind of burns. But it’ll heal, right?”
She frowned. “With time you should get most of your mobility back but we’ll have to work on it.”
"To be honest I thought it would be much worse.”
Surina fiddled with the edge of Quinn's blanket awkwardly at the silence that followed Quinn’s observation. He had made the comment in jest but the odd pause unsettled him.
“Surina?”
“I want to apologize,” she blurted out.
“Apologize?”
“I took a risk with your life.”
“I was my choice to come with you, and it was my choice to grab the star.”
“That’s not what I’m referring to.”
“Then, what do you mean?” he said.
“The burns you suffered retrieving the Star were much worse,” lines began to mar Surina’s young face as she recalled the state they had found the teen in. “You were barely conscious… barely alive. We didn’t have time to fetch a healer so I made a decision. And we were lucky.”
“Surina, you’re not making any sense. What did you do?” Quinn pressed. Dread started to fill his chest, pressing down on his lungs making each breath even more of a struggle. Surely she hadn’t forced Jared into saving his life.
The teen suppressed a shudder at the thought that another being had taken his death for him.
“Did you know that Gorgon’s blood is different from blood produced by any other species? The way that their hearts pump, it changes the qualities of the blood depending on what side of the body it goes to. Taken from one side the blood acts as a powerful healing agent, the other, a deadly poison. I made the wrong choice with Lear.”
Quinn blinked, understanding entering his eyes. “That’s what you meant that night… the side you took from when you tried to save Lear was poisonous…but then how were you taking a risk? Surely you knew then what side to take from now.”
&nbs
p; “In theory, but I’m not a full Gorgon – for all I knew all that flowed through my veins was poison. I took a leap of faith using it to heal you.”
“And I’m here because of it.”
“We were lucky,” she argued.
“What else could you have done? You said yourself, you didn’t have time… I know that it must have been a hard decision to make, but I appreciate it,” Quinn replied, true gratitude in his voice.
Folding her hands on-top of the blanket Surina’s lips twitched up in a smile. “I hate when you do that.”
“Do what?” he asked.
“I hate when you’re right. Reminds me of Sebastien.”
“Hey, he’s an okay guy.”
“I suppose,” she replied, her tone betraying her fondness for the Seer.
“So apparently, you have a say in what happens next?” he said; the smile that accompanied his words was both joking and chastising.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have put it that way, especially since you technically have seniority.”
“I feel like I don’t even know which way is up most of the time, so I’m open to suggestion.”
“I want you to train with me; well not just me,” Surina corrected herself. “But I would be your primary instructor.”
“Train me? You mean in my duties?”
“Among other things. The truth is Quinn; this was not a clear victory. Yes, we got the Star back, defeated the Cyclopes, got rid of the danaids and Chimera, but others were involved. At the very least we have a rogue Earthen Magi we need to identify and while this may be a set-back for them, I doubt they’ll stop, not if they already went through this much trouble.”
“Do we even know who they are, or what they wanted?” he questioned.
Surina’s frown deepened, “Arges let it slip that other daimons were involved, which doesn’t really surprise me, but until we know which particular ones were responsible it would be unwise, not to mention bigoted, to round them all up on a conspiracy theory.”
“You’re part daimon, aren’t you?”
“Yes, though I’m not really part of their club,” she conceded. “I’m not saying that they’re all bad people – many of them have been quite helpful in the past, it’s just they’ve had time to nurse their grudges. A god’s death and rebirth isn’t just a punishment but a cleansing ritual – time can make you wise, but can also make you bitter. It’s not a bad thing to look at the world with fresh eyes.”
Quinn nodded, his expression pensive. “You think they have a grudge against someone?”
“While you were unconscious Arges spoke about wiping out the vermin that plagues this planet. I’m pretty certain he wasn’t referring to cockroaches,” she replied dryly.
“They wanted to kill someone?”
“More like they planned to commit genocide.”
The teen shook his head. “But why? And on who?”
Surina shrugged, “I don’t know, your guess is as good as mine. But I’d like you to be prepared for when they make their next move. So, will you come train with me? I’m sure Jared and the others will come and help when they can.”
Quinn paused for a moment, though he was certain what his answer was going to be; what else could he do? “I will.”
The demi-god smiled, a genuine and gentle expression that was a pleasant change from her more common smirk or faked grin. “Good… well I better let you rest up because come next week, your ass is mine.”
The teen snorted in amusement, though the grimace on his face betrayed his apprehension of what was to be the grueling training to come. “Looking forward to it…”
Quinn’s voice trailed off as he sunk further back into the pillows around him. He valiantly attempted to keep his eyes open but was quickly losing the battle to stay awake.
“I’ll go tell Sebastien to put the soup on hold, you get some sleep.” With those final words, Surina exited the room.
He had wanted to argue with her but the softness of the blankets cocooning him helped pull Quinn down into a much-needed healing sleep.
Surina closed the door behind her and leaned heavily against the wood. She turned her head and glared at the figure who slouched on the wall beside her, a cotton tote bag hanging from his wrist.
"You know, he’s probably already asleep if you’re thinking about going in."
"That’s okay, I don’t need to talk to him," Jared replied.
"You've been checking in on him every day and now that you can actually speak to him you're suddenly shy? I don't buy it.” She frowned at the Death god as he refused to answer her challenge. “Quinn told me about a dream he had,” she continued, “about Seraphina and a figure in the dark… You and I both know why you're here, so why don't you just tell him."
"What? Tell him I was there when his father died? That the dream he has is about me and the night I came for his father's soul? Oh yeah, that sounds like a great idea," he sneered. "He'd never forgive me for what I had Seraphina do to him."
"Or perhaps he would realize the risk you took by letting him go,” she reasoned. “You knew what he was, what he was supposed to be; you knew you had to take him back to the elder gods, but you didn't."
"He was just a kid."
"So were you." She sighed, taking a moment to run a hand through her dark tresses. "Listen, it isn't my place to tell him, but Quinn will find out eventually and I think it will be better if he heard it from you."
"I know."
“So will you tell him?"
"I will, soon,” he conceded. “But for now I still want him to be my friend and maybe by the time I'm ready to tell him, he'll be able to forgive me." Jared pushed himself off of the wall and placed a hand on the door knob. “I just want to drop off a couple more books,” he said.
“Well, if you’re not gonna talk to him, try not to wake him,” Surina replied, a frown tugging at her lips.
Jared nodded and entered the room.
Surina shook her head as the door closed behind him.
True to Surina’s words, Quinn was fast asleep, his right arm still swaddled in stark white gauze that stood in contrast to the navy duvet.
Jared moved to stand at the teen’s bedside, the paleness of his skin reminding him of Alice for a moment. But that was different he reminded himself. Quinn may be injured but he’d recover. Well, for the most part; Jared still worried about how much movement the teen would be able to get out of his damaged arm.
The sight of his friend reassured him more now that he knew that Quinn had been awake and coherent. He would soon grow restless of lying in bed, so Jared thought it would be best to try and occupy Quinn’s mind; though with how fast the teen processed things, the books wouldn’t keep him busy for long.
Jared stepped away from the bed and fished out a couple more tomes from the tote he carried; these ones from the Underworld’s personal library chronicling some of the history of the gods and their place in the three realms. The older man had often found the lines within the pages to be dull, but was certain that Quinn would soak up the information like a sponge.
He reached into his bag once again and placed yet another item on top of the small pile of books that he had left his friend. The stuffed duck may not have been in the exact same condition as when Quinn had first owned it, but Jared had been able to keep it in generally good repair over the past ten years.
The stuffed animal wasn’t a complete confession, but Quinn was smart. He would figure out the significance of the gift soon enough. And when that time came, Jared just hoped he could answer his questions.
~ Chapter 32 ~
Arges looked up from his folded hands at the sound of his guard’s footsteps as he approached the Cyclopes’ cell. The step of the guard was softer this afternoon. He turned to his brothers sharing the cell with him but neither stirred from their cots.
Arges turned to the bars of their cell to see the new guard approach and almost laughed as the pathetic creature came into view. Though wearing the traditional gray uniform of the Labyr
inth guards, the mousy woman before them didn’t portray one ounce of authority.
The straight lines of the uniform buckled on the too small frame, while the standard cap was pulled down across her forehead, unwilling to meet his gaze. The clinking of spoons against the bowls balanced on the tray she held, betrayed the slight tremor in her hands. Wisps of her golden brown hair curled with sweat just below her tightly wrapped bun.
She stood a good couple paces away from the bars with her head down her body language betraying her unease. Arges snorted in amusement, his brothers finally taking notice of their visitor though neither seemed inclined to move.
“Our food’s getting cold – think we can get it sometime today?” Arges growled.
The guard startled at being addressed but complied moving forward cautiously. She began to slide the tray through the narrow slot when Arges with a speed belaying his size seized the tray and pulled it out of the woman’s hands. She jumped back fearful that the brute behind the bars might try and grab her.
Arges and his brothers laughed at her fright as the eldest passed the other two the bowls. The spoons were ridiculously tiny in the giants hands and were immediately discarded and the stew eaten straight from the bowl in a matter of mouthfuls.
The eldest of the brothers growled at the empty bowl – the meager portions in the Labyrinth never seemed to fill his belly.
He noticed the guard standing awkwardly a few steps from the cell. “What else do you want?” he barked, once again causing the woman to jump.
“The tray and bowls… I need them back,” came her spider-silk reply.
“I need it back,” he mocked in her simpering tone. His brothers snickered behind him, the remnants of the stew leaking out of the corners of their lips. Brontes scooped up the tray, bowls and spoons from the floor and approached the cell bars. He slotted part of it through the opening and with a nod signaled the guard.
