Dreamless

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Dreamless Page 18

by Josephine Angelini

“She just fell asleep. . . . She didn’t leave, I swear it.”

  “I can smell your fear,” Automedon said, his red eyes shining in the dark. “Your eyes are too slow to see her. I can no longer trust you with this task.”

  “Master, I . . .”

  Automedon shook his head. That was enough to silence Zach.

  “My master’s sister has had word from her brother. They are almost ready,” Automedon continued in his blank and emotionless way. “We must make preparations to capture the Face.”

  “You master’s sister?” Zach asked shrewdly. “But Pandora’s dead. Don’t you mean Tantalus’s wife, Mildred?” Zach crumpled onto his knees, all the air rushing out of his lungs. Automedon had punched him in the gut so fast he’d never seen it coming.

  “You ask far too many questions,” Automedon said.

  Zach gasped and clutched his middle, certain now that Automedon had a different master. He wasn’t working for Tantalus anymore, and Zach had a feeling it had something to do with that tall, inhuman woman and the misshapen boy with her. Whoever she was, she was calling the shots now for her brother, and it was her brother who was Automedon’s real master. Zach knew that Automedon didn’t trust him enough to tell him who he was working for, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still find out. He just had to be careful.

  “Forgive me, master,” Zach wheezed as he stood up, still bent over with pain and seething with bitterness. “I will get you what you need. Instruct me.”

  Automedon’s mouth twitched, like he could smell Zach’s disingenuous intent. Zach tried to think loyal thoughts. His life literally depended on it.

  “Rope, a stake, and a bronze brazier. Do you know what a brazier is?”

  “A ceremonial bronze pan. Used to hold burning coals or fire,” Zach repeated lifelessly. His master nodded once.

  “Keep all of these things on hand. When the time comes it will all happen very quickly.”

  Sitting up, Helen rubbed her throbbing head and noticed that she was still covered in blood and grime. Her skin was oily and tender from lack of sleep and her face felt hot, even though she knew that her bedroom was literally freezing cold. The glass on her nightstand had a spiky film of ice on top.

  Forcing herself out of bed, she staggered into the shower and stayed there, trying to forget the way Orion had looked at her, how lost he’d seemed. The word stabbed kept echoing around the inside of her malfunctioning mind, confusingly coupled with the memory of how he had touched her.

  Helen knew Orion could control hearts, but nothing could have prepared her for what she’d felt when he reached inside her. It sort of hurt, but in a good way—in the best way, Helen realized. Her hot face got even hotter and she pinched her eyes shut tightly and turned directly into the stinging spray. For a moment it felt like Orion could have done whatever he wanted to her, and Helen knew she would have let him. Worse, she suspected that no matter what he asked of her, he could have made her enjoy it, too.

  “Helen!” Jerry yelled, jolting her out of her vivid thoughts. He only called her Helen when he was really ticked off. “Why is it so damn cold in this damn house . . . damn it!”

  That’s it, Helen thought. I’ve finally made my father so angry he’s actually forgotten how to speak English.

  Jerry came to the bathroom door and started yelling at her through the wood. She could almost picture him out there, pointing his finger vehemently at the door while he got himself so worked up that he started mixing up words like irresponsible and thoughtless and said things like irrespons-less-ness.

  Helen shut off the taps and shrugged into a robe, still wet. She pulled open the door and leveled her father with a look. Whatever Jerry was going to yell next died with a whimper as soon as he saw Helen’s face.

  “Dad,” she said carefully as she dangled precariously from the end of her emotional tether. “This is the situation. I already called Mr. Tanis at the hardware store and he came over on Friday to measure the window. Then, he placed the order with a glass shop on the Cape because this house is so old that none of our fixtures are standard size. We have to wait for the shop on Cape Cod to make the window, ship it to back to us, and Mr. Tanis will come and install it. But until then, it’s going to be freaking freezing cold in my bedroom, okay!”

  “Okay!” he said, leaning away from Helen’s sudden attack of the crazies. “Just as long as you’re taking care of it.”

  “I am!”

  “Good!” He shifted awkwardly on his feet and looked at Helen with a penitent expression. “Now what do you want for breakfast?”

  Helen smiled at him, grateful that of all the proverbial doorsteps Daphne could have left her on, she had chosen Jerry’s.

  “Pumpkin pancakes?” she said with a sniffle. She rubbed her runny nose on the sleeve of her robe like a little kid.

  “Are you sick? What’s wrong with you, Len? You look like you’ve been to hell and back.”

  Helen laughed, resisting the temptation to tell him how on the mark his guess was. Her sudden laughter only confused Jerry even more. He backed away with a slightly weirded-out look on his face and went downstairs to make her pancakes.

  When Helen was bundled up in a thick wool sweater and even thicker wool socks, she joined him in the kitchen and helped. For about an hour she and her dad just hung out, ate, and shared the Sunday paper. Every time the thought of Orion arose, she would try to sideline it.

  She couldn’t allow herself to become too attached to him. She knew that. But little details kept swimming up to fill her mind’s eye—the single beauty mark that hung like a dark tear high on the slope of his right cheek; the sharp, diamond shape of his incisors when he smiled.

  Why hadn’t he texted yet?

  “Are you going to Kate’s later?” she asked her dad to get her mind off Orion.

  “Well, I wanted to ask you first,” he answered. “Are you going to Luke’s?”

  Helen stopped breathing for a moment, collected herself, and tried to pretend that her stomach hadn’t fallen to the floor. For a moment, she tried to reason with the voice in her head that was whispering the word unfaithful. She and Lucas were not together. What did it matter if she thought about Orion?

  “I’m going to Ariadne’s, Dad. She and I have this thing; so go to Kate’s. I’m not going to be here.”

  “Another project for school?” he asked so innocently that Helen knew he didn’t believe it.

  “Actually, no,” Helen admitted. She was too tired to keep all the lies straight anymore and decided she would try a touch of truth for a change. “She’s teaching me self-defense.”

  “Really!” he exclaimed, completely shocked. “Why?”

  “I want to learn how to protect myself.”

  Helen realized how true it was as she said it. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life hiding behind other people. Eventually, she would run out of champions—especially if she kept stabbing them in the chest.

  Orion should have texted her by now. Where was he?

  “Oh. Okay.” Jerry scowled as he collected his thoughts. “Lennie, I give up. Are you and Lucas dating or not? Because I can’t figure it out, Kate can’t figure it out, and you look really miserable. I’m assuming you two broke up, but if you did, then why? Did he do something to you?”

  “He didn’t do anything, Dad. It’s not like that at all,” Helen mumbled. She was still incapable of saying Lucas’s name. “We’re just friends.”

  “Friends. Really? Lennie, you look like the walking dead.”

  Helen stifled a bitter laugh and shrugged. “Maybe I’ve got the flu or something. Don’t worry. I’ll get over it.”

  “Are we talking about the flu or Lucas?”

  Helen’s phone buzzed. She dove for it—Orion!—but it was Claire, asking where she was.

  “What’s wrong now?” Jerry asked.

  “Huh? Nothing,” Helen responded, still staring at her phone. Why hadn’t Orion texted her yet?

  “You look disappointed.”

  “I g
otta go. Claire’s coming up the street,” she lied, ignoring her father’s comment about being disappointed—which she wasn’t, she told herself. She was worried, and that was different.

  What had Orion done to her? She knew this wasn’t normal. She felt like her brain had been hijacked, and apparently, her skin had gone along for the ride, too. She could still feel his hands on her, and she knew she wasn’t just imagining it. She could feel points of pressure on the small of her back, like his fingers were pressing into her. She felt him tug on her hips, pulling her closer to him, even though she knew he was miles away on the mainland.

  She put a hand out to steady herself and counted to three. The feeling that he was holding her hips in his hands receded, but it didn’t entirely go away. Rushing to get away from so many impossible sensations, she kissed her dad good-bye, put on her shoes and coat, and hurried out of the house.

  The steps swam in front of her and a familiar scent lingered on the breeze. Helen spun on her heel and twisted her head around to find the source of it. Disoriented, she fell to her knees and held her arms out, groping around like she had been blindfolded. Something was terribly wrong with her eyes. The sky in front of her looked mismatched, as if it had been ripped apart and then hastily stitched back together a millimeter or two askew.

  Helen felt heat—wonderful, comforting heat in a sea of cold. Some invisible sun was warming her ever so slightly. She closed her eyes and held out her hand to touch the warmth that hung a shadow’s width away, but as she reached out to touch it, it bled into the cold October air and disappeared.

  Hot tears stung Helen’s out-of-focus eyes. She felt as if she had just been denied something she needed so desperately. Helen swatted at the empty air with her hands, but there was nothing there.

  Come to me, Dreamless One. I miss holding you in my arms.

  Helen froze and looked around. She had heard a man whisper—but from where?

  The sound had come from inside her own mind, but the voice had definitely not been hers. It had sounded so soothing. Helen wanted to hear it again.

  Getting up off her knees, Helen glanced around self-consciously at the neighbors’ windows, hoping none of them had seen her. She didn’t know how to explain her momentary freak-out to anyone, least of all to herself. A terrifying thought crossed her mind. Blurry vision, disrupted balance, and hot and cold flashes were all known side effects of sleep deprivation. So was dementia. It was possible that she had imagined the whole thing, including the voice.

  Helen knew she couldn’t afford to panic. She shook off the fear. Jogging a ways down the street, she made sure no one was watching and then took to the air. Moments later, she landed in the Deloses’ arena, right next to Ariadne and Matt, who were already in the middle of a training session. Matt screamed like a little girl.

  “What the hell, Lennie!” He scrambled through the sand to regain his lost footing. “You just fell out of the frigging sky!”

  “Sorry! I didn’t think,” Helen apologized.

  She’d forgotten that Matt had never really seen her fly, but she had been so surprised that Matt and Ariadne were practicing openly that she had forgotten to come in for an easy landing. She was about to ask if Matt had somehow convinced Ariadne’s father that he should be trained when she heard Claire cracking up in the corner.

  “Jeez, Matt! I haven’t heard you hit a note that high since the fifth grade.” Claire cradled the leather-bound book she was reading to her chest as she shook with laughter.

  “Ha. Ha.” Apparently, Matt was not up to being teased just then. He turned to Helen with a stern face. “What are you doing out here, Len? Aren’t you supposed to be in the library with Cassandra?”

  “What’s the point? Claire is ten times the researcher I am. I’d just get in her way, taking books out of the library that I don’t understand half as well as she could.” Helen made an expressive gesture toward Claire, who somehow managed to bow magnanimously while she was still sitting down. “Right now, studying isn’t what I need. I need Ariadne to train me.”

  Ariadne looked at Helen doubtfully. “Helen? You know I adore you and all, but I’m so not about to get electrocuted. Why don’t you fly to the mainland and find a nice, big tree to set on fire and we’ll call it even?”

  “You’re not understanding me,” Helen said forcefully.

  All eyes turned to her and she froze. Helen fleetingly realized that she could sound too strong, maybe even a bit scary when she lost her temper. She looked down and saw her hands were blue with static and extinguished the growing bolt immediately. Shaking her head to clear it, Helen redirected her wandering attention and calmed herself. She knew her mind was not entirely grounded anymore and that she needed to be careful.

  “Then explain it to me. What don’t we understand?” Ariadne said reasonably.

  “I need to learn how to fight hand to hand without my powers. I need to be able to beat someone at least as big and as strong as Matt without using an ounce of my Scion strength or any of my other talents.”

  “Is there a reason why?” Claire asked bluntly.

  “Last night in the Underworld, Orion and I ran into Ares.”

  Dumbstruck looks bounced around the arena. Helen’s fuzzy brain registered a few hours too late that she probably should have called someone or given someone a heads-up about the whole Ares thing. Meeting a god was a really big deal. She had been so preoccupied with what had happened between her and Orion in the cave that she hadn’t even considered the ramifications of what had happened before that, when the two of them were still in the Underworld.

  What had happened between them was more important to Helen than a god, especially now that she was beginning to suspect Orion was purposely avoiding her. Still, she should have remembered to tell someone about Ares. Why can’t I control my thoughts anymore? Helen wondered blearily.

  Because you need me. Come. I can give you the sweetest of dreams.

  Helen spun around in a circle and looked for the source of the voice. After one rotation, it became clear that the voice was in her mind again. She took a few breaths and shook her head to clear it of all the skittering cobwebs that were tracing bright, ghostly paths across her eyes.

  “Helen? Are you okay?” Ariadne asked, touching Helen’s elbow gently with her Healer hands. Helen smiled at Ariadne’s kindness but pulled her arm away.

  “Ares ran from Orion because it’s obvious that with or without his powers, Orion knows how to fight. But I don’t,” Helen said, reining in her focus by sheer force of will. “I need to learn how to stand up to Ares on my own.”

  Especially if Orion hated her now and never wanted to see her again. When she considered returning to the Underworld without Orion, she had to stop herself from tearing up.

  “Ares. As in Ares, the God of War?” Claire sounded like she wanted to make absolutely certain that everyone was on the same page.

  “Yes,” Helen said, nodding regretfully.

  “Well, what happened?” Matt yelled in frustration. “Did you speak to him?”

  “It wasn’t like a normal conversation or anything. He’s crazy, Matt—and I mean really crazy. He talked like he was reciting poetry or something and he leaked blood from the strangest places. Even his hair bled, if you can imagine it, and I don’t think any of that blood was his.” Helen looked down and saw her fingers vibrate. She was shaking all over.

  In the harsh light of day, Helen suddenly wondered if she had imagined the entire encounter with Ares. Everything around her looked so real, but it seemed fake. Colors were oversaturated, and voices raked at Helen’s ears like they were all too loud and jarring. It was as if her surroundings had suddenly turned into the set of a Broadway musical, and Helen was the only one standing far enough upstage to see that the world was entirely made out of paint and plywood.

  “As near as we can figure, Ares is as mortal in the Underworld as we are.” She was trying to outshout all the thoughts in her head. “But he’s still a big man and he knows how to fight. I ca
n’t defend myself against him without more training. I need you to teach me, Ari. Will you do it?”

  “You’ll have to be the one to spar with her so I can teach,” Ariadne said to Matt quietly. “Are you up to this?”

  “Probably not. But let’s do it, anyway,” he replied.

  “Down to the cage,” Ariadne said solemnly. “Matt. You’ll have to change into a gi. I don’t want you to get blood all over your street clothes.”

  While Helen and Matt trained, Claire went inside to tell the rest of the Delos family about Helen’s encounter with Ares and maybe try to come up with some kind of plan. Matt and Helen worked for hours, and Ariadne was not kind. More than once, Helen felt as if her sweet, delicate friend was actually channeling Hector in all his drill-sergeant glory.

  Hitting Matt was not easy. He was wearing protective gear so he didn’t get injured, but even so, Helen balked more often than she should have. Each time she worried about hurting Matt. That thought would lead her back to how she had hurt Orion, and guilt would overwhelm her.

  The Furies had made her do it. She hadn’t really meant it when she’d stabbed Orion, she reminded herself repeatedly. Even though at that moment when she knelt in front of him, she had wanted to kill him. In fact, there was only one other person toward whom she had ever felt such an overpowering emotion.

  It’s the Furies, Helen thought firmly. It’s instinct, not real emotion.

  But if her instinct was so terrible, how could she trust herself? It seemed like everything she instinctively wanted was immoral, hurtful, or just dead wrong. She had no idea what to do next.

  Too tired to lift her arms, Helen let her hands drop. Matt punched her in the face.

  “Yikes, Lennie! You really do suck without your lightning,” Claire yelled as she came through the door.

  “Thanks, Gig,” Helen said sarcastically, hauling herself reluctantly off her butt. “What did Cassandra and Jason say?”

  “That they would try to figure it out.” Claire grimaced. “Honestly? I don’t think anyone has a clue about what to do next.”

  “Great,” Helen said while Matt tugged her arm and helped her to her feet.

 

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