Dreamless

by Josephine Angelini

  Almost. Are you going to meet me? she wrote, wondering if her phone had an emoticon for “hopeful.”

  y. Need to c u. Driving 2 caves now.

  See you soon.

  Helen was unbelievably happy that Orion had finally gotten back in touch with her, but she still felt uneasy. It didn’t feel like he’d forgiven her. She would have given a lot to be able to see his face or hear his voice instead of settling for what had to be a text written hastily while he was driving.

  She came in for a quick landing in her backyard and ran into the house.

  “Do you have any idea what time it is?” Jerry hollered as she bounded past him, heading for the stairs.

  “Four minutes to eleven,” Helen hollered back as she ran up the stairs and straight into the bathroom. “Punish me tomorrow, okay? I really need to get into bed!”

  She could hear her dad mumbling angrily to himself downstairs about how nice things had been when Helen was nine. In a rather loud voice, he remembered how thoughtful she’d been at that age, how she did everything she was supposed to do, and then he asked the ceiling why daughters couldn’t just stay nine forever. Helen ignored him as she washed her face and brushed her teeth.

  Helen couldn’t stop to think about anything but meeting Orion. She had no idea what she was going to say to him, but that didn’t matter. She just had to see him.

  Before entering her room she put on warm socks and boots that she kept in the hallway, just in case it was as cold in there as it was outside. The door stuck. She pushed it open forcibly, making the wood of the lintel groan as she burst through the entryway. Her first steps crunched, like she had stepped on a carpet of corn flakes. Looking around, Helen saw why.

  The entire room was covered in hoarfrost. The dresser, the bed, the floor, even the walls glinted sliver-white with layers of feathery ice. Her breath puffed out in front of her like a billowing cloud of smoke. Tilting her head back in disbelief, Helen saw the small fingers of icicles hanging down like crystalline buds above her bed. It had to be at least ten or fifteen degrees colder in her room than it was outside. How could that even be possible? She suspected it had something to do with the Underworld. Helen remembered that the cave that led to Orion’s portal had been freezing cold.

  Shutting the door behind her and desperately hoping that her room would melt by morning, Helen shivered and pulled back the covers on her bed. Ice flakes rose up and danced around the room, like handfuls of glitter tossed in the air. The clock on her bedside table read 11:11. Zipping her jacket up as high as it would go, Helen gritted her chattering teeth in determination and climbed between the stiff, cold sheets.

  When Helen appeared next to him Orion was already walking down the infinite beach that never led to any sea.

  “Hi,” he said shyly, like it was the first time they had ever met.

  “Hi, yourself,” Helen said back in what she hoped was a spunky way. She was really nervous, and desperate to lighten the mood between them. “So, are we pals again or did you just come down here to tell me where I can shove my quest?”

  Instead of laughing, Orion smiled sadly at her. Helen swallowed down the tight feeling that was building in her throat. She didn’t know what she would do if Orion stopped helping her. She might not ever see him again.

  “I’m sorry! I’m really, really sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to stab you!”

  That sounded terrible. Helen felt her eyes start stinging. Orion got downright panicky at the sight of her tears. If Helen wasn’t so upset, the expression on his face would have been funny.

  “Whoa! Back up, I’m not mad at you at all. In fact, you should be mad at me.”

  “Why would I be mad at you?” Helen asked, bewildered. She wiped at a leaky eye with the back of her hand and tried to see his face. He wouldn’t look at her.

  “I forced you, Helen. I was trying to—” He broke off and took a moment before starting over. “There have been Scions from the House of Rome who could control hearts so well that even members of enemy Houses could be together and talk to each other like the Furies weren’t even there. I know I’m strong enough to do it too, but I’ve never had anyone to teach me how. I was trying to do it in the cave with you, but instead I did something I promised myself I’d never do to another person. I manipulated you. I made you kiss me, and I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m not,” Helen responded so quickly she nearly cut him off. He opened his mouth to argue with her, but she talked over him. “If you hadn’t, I would have killed you. I don’t think I could have lived with myself if I did. I almost killed you,” Helen repeated. She was choking up again, feeling how close she had come to doing something that she knew her conscience couldn’t handle.

  “Hey. I’m fine, so no crying, okay?” He took her shoulders and pulled her into a huge, warm hug. Helen relaxed gratefully against him. “Believe me, I’ve done things that are far worse. That’s why I want you to stop and really think about whether or not you want to have me along.”

  “You’re kinda slow, huh?” she said, her words muffled in his chest. She pulled back in his arms, laughing now the worst had passed. “Of course I want you here. I need you. I don’t want to get attacked by any monsters tonight.”

  “Helen, this isn’t a joke. I could do much worse than just kill you.”

  “What do you mean?” Helen thought about him reaching inside of her, how it had kind of hurt, even though it felt so good. He was so gentle. She imagined how horrible it would have felt if he hadn’t been. “Is this about your invisible hand?”

  “My what?” Orion asked, confused. Then he suddenly blushed and looked down.

  He eased himself away from Helen and put some distance between them. She shuffled around for a moment, unsure of what to do with her arms.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to call it,” she stammered apologetically, thinking she might have said something silly. “It felt like you reached into my chest. I pictured a hand.”

  “No, don’t be sorry. Call it whatever you want. I’ve just never heard it described that way, that’s all. Not that I’ve done it that much,” he added quickly. “I’ve always known that’s not the kind of love I want. Forced.”

  “No, I wouldn’t want that, either. That’s quite a talent you got there,” Helen said cautiously. She didn’t want to offend him, but the truth was, it frightened her a little. “Can everyone from the House of Rome do that?”

  “No,” Orion assured her. “But they can sway you—and don’t think that isn’t bad enough, because it is. Sometimes the difference between doing the right thing and the wrong thing takes less than a nudge, but I’m the only one that I know of that can fully turn a heart. Or break it forever. And that’s not the worst I can do.”

  Helen couldn’t imagine many things that were worse than having a heart that was broken forever, but something in the way his eyes widened and sunk in with fear told her that he could.

  “So, what’s the worst you can do?” she asked gently. Orion clenched his jaw and spoke through his teeth.

  “I’m an Earthshaker.”

  He said “Earthshaker” like most people would say “ax murderer.”

  “Okay,” she said blankly. “Wait, I don’t understand. What’s so horrible about that?”

  He stared at her disbelievingly for a moment. “Helen . . . have you ever heard of a beneficial earthquake? One where everyone went around afterward saying, ‘Gee! It’s real lucky we had that devastating earthquake! I’m so glad everyone I know is dead and the whole city is a pile of rubble now!’”

  Helen didn’t mean to laugh, but it slipped out, anyway. Frustrated, Orion tried to turn away from her, but she wasn’t about to let him go. She grabbed on to one of his thick forearms with both of her hands and tugged until he turned back and faced her.

  “Don’t walk away. Talk to me,” she insisted, wanting to kick herself for laughing. “Explain this whole Earthshaker thing.”

  Orion dropped his head and took her hand. As he spoke, he fiddl
ed nervously with her fingers, rolling them between his own, as if the pressure soothed him. The gesture reminded her of another time when Lucas had taken her hand. She almost pulled away, but she didn’t. Orion needed her, and she realized that she wanted to be there for him. Always. Truce or no Truce, Helen couldn’t convince herself that caring for Orion was wrong.

  “You know that my father’s side, the House of Athens, is descended from Theseus, a Scion of Poseidon,” he began carefully. “Well, it’s very rare, but I was born with all of Poseidon’s talents, including the ability to cause earthquakes. When a Scion is born with this particular talent, the law of our House is that the baby is to be exposed. But my father wouldn’t do it.”

  “What do you mean by ‘exposed’?” Something about the dark way he said the word gave her goose bumps.

  “Left on a mountainside to die of exposure to the elements.” Orion raised his eyes to meet her gaze. “It was considered a parent’s sacred duty to do this to babies born with the power to cause earthquakes in order to protect the community as a whole.”

  “Sacred duty? It’s barbaric! Your House actually expected your father to leave you to die on a mountainside?”

  “My House takes this law very seriously, Helen, and my father broke it. When I was ten and they found out I was still alive, they came after us. Three of my cousins are dead because of the choice my father made. What about them? They all had fathers who loved them, some of them had wives and sons who loved them, and they’re dead now—because of me.”

  He had a point. His father had killed to protect him, but those men that came after them—they lost exactly what Daedalus had killed to protect. And another cycle of killing and revenge had started anew.

  “Is that how your dad—Daedalus, right?—became an Outcast?” She asked the question quietly, careful not to push him too hard. When Orion nodded but wouldn’t look up from the ground, a shocking thought occurred to her. “You agree with them! You think your father should have left you to die.”

  “I don’t know what he should have done, I only know what he actually did. And I know how it turned out,” Orion said darkly. “Before you judge the laws of my father’s House, just think about how many mortals—not just Scions but innocent, normal people like your father, Jerry—could be killed by me. Did you feel the tremors in the cave? Do you know how many people felt that quake I made the other night, or if anyone got hurt? Because I don’t.”

  Helen recalled their struggle in the cave, how the earth had rolled under her. She started to get an inkling of how powerful he really was, and it was scary. But it was also exciting. Orion was dangerous, but not in the way he thought.

  “And I could have done much worse than that.” His voice was low and shaky. “Helen, I can bring down whole cities, drop entire islands into the ocean, or even knock the edge of this continent if I really put my mind to it.”

  Helen saw a desperate light spark in his eye, and she put a hand on his arm to stop him. His whole body was trembling. She could see that he was completely terrified of what he could do, and that he found even the thought of causing so much pain abhorrent. That told her everything she needed to know about him.

  “You’re capable of monstrous things, so you must be a monster. I don’t even know why I hang out with you,” Helen said harshly.

  Orion looked up at her, wounded, until he saw the smile spreading on her face. She shook her head sympathetically, like she thought he was foolish for even thinking her cruel words were said in earnest. He made a frustrated sound and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand.

  “I’m dangerous when I’m out of control. And you and me together with the Furies . . .” He trailed off uncertainly, desperate to find the words that would make Helen understand him. “I could hurt a lot of people, Helen.”

  “I get it.” And she did. “In the cave you could have hurt me in a million ways, and maybe killed a million people while you were at it. But you didn’t. You’re a better person than you think you are. I trust you completely.”

  “Really?” he asked in a hushed voice. “You’re really not afraid of me?”

  “Maybe I should be. But I’m not,” she answered softly. “You know, when the Delos family first saw my lightning, for a second there they looked at me like I was a weapon of mass destruction. But I haven’t burned down any major cities. It’s not our talents that make us safe or dangerous, it’s our choices. You of all people should know that.”

  Orion shook his head. “There’s this prophecy,” he said.

  “Ugh! Not this malarkey again!” Helen said vehemently. “You want to know what I think? I think all those ancient prophecies are so full of poetic nonsense that half the time no one understands what they mean. You’re not the big bad Tyrant, Orion. And you never will be.”

  “I hope you’re right,” he mumbled so quietly Helen barely heard him.

  “You are so afraid of yourself,” she remarked, truly sad that he couldn’t see what a crime that was.

  “Yeah, well. I’ve got reason to be.”

  “Okay, I wasn’t going to ask, but now I sort of have to. You said earlier you’d done way worse things than me, and this was right after I owned up to stabbing one of my best friends in the chest. So what would you consider worse than that?”

  Orion smiled pensively as he walked, thinking over her question carefully. Helen watched his face and smiled. He was such a thoughtful guy, and when something was important to him he took his time to think it through before he opened his mouth. She really liked that about him. It sort of reminded her of Matt.

  “Can we have that conversation later?” he said finally. “I promise to tell you someday, just not yet, okay?”

  “Sure. Whenever you’re ready.”

  He looked over at her with tight lips, trying to be tough, but his eyes were vulnerable and that made him look very young.

  “Am I really one of your best friends?” he asked quietly.

  “Well, yeah,” Helen replied, feeling jittery, like maybe she shouldn’t admit to caring for him so much. But she was only admitting to friendship—not making any commitments that could harm the Truce, right? “Aren’t I one of your best friends?”

  Orion nodded, but there was a pained look on his face. “I haven’t had many friends,” he admitted. “I never knew when I’d have to disappear, so I never saw the point, you know?”

  He smiled cheerfully enough, but underneath he still looked troubled, like he was thinking a thousand things at once. Helen didn’t push him. He must have been terribly lonely his whole life. Her heart pinched at the thought.

  She knew she was supposed to maintain some sort of barrier between herself and Orion. But every time she saw him she felt closer to him. And she didn’t want to block him out anymore.

  What does it matter, anyway? she thought rebelliously. I’m not going to be alive long enough to commit myself to anyone, anyway. The Truce is not in any danger.

  They kept walking in no specific direction, wherever their feet decided to wander. It wasn’t like they had a time limit or a deadline to meet. Technically, they could stay down there as long as they could bear being parted from food and drink, and although Helen already felt the beginnings of a serious thirst, she had gotten very good at doing without.

  As they walked, Helen did most of the talking, telling Orion all about Claire and Matt and her father, Jerry. She should have felt more pressured to make progress, but she didn’t. She trusted that eventually she and Orion would find the blasted river they were looking for, and it would lead them to Persephone’s Garden.

  Helen considered telling Orion about how she was sort of dying, but she couldn’t bring herself to spoil the moment. She was enjoying herself too much. And besides, what could Orion do to stop her from dying, anyway? What could anyone do about it? She had no guarantee that finding the Furies would end her descents into the Underworld and save her life. Helen had to accept the fact that this task might be the last she ever completed.

  At l
east it’s something worth dying for, Helen thought.

  She looked over at Orion and knew that there were worse things that could have happened to her. Hades was no picnic, but at least she’d found Orion down here. It just goes to show that Fate is nonsense, she thought wryly. Even if someone tells you the future, you never really know what you’re going to find until you get there.

  A whimsical idea crossed Helen’s mind, and she laughed out loud.

  “What is it?” Orion asked as he shot her a look.

  “No, it’s nothing,” she replied, still snickering. Not looking where she was going, she tripped over some loose rocks in the sand and had to grab on to Orion’s arm to regain her balance. “I was just thinking, wouldn’t it be great if you and I randomly stumbled over what we were looking for?”

  “Yeah, that’d be pretty great,” he said as he helped steady her. “Most people would want to get out of here as quickly as possible.”

  “It’s not that,” she said, subdued. “I’m not thinking that I want our quest to be over right this second. But I do want Persephone’s Garden to magically appear in front of us.”

  The scenery changed.

  There was no warning, no gust of wind, and no freaky dissolve like in an old movie. One second they were walking down the infinite beach during the day, and the next they were someplace else. Someplace dark and terrifying.

  Just to their left, a massive structure, made entirely out of a strange black metallic rock, soared up into the dead, starless sky. The parapets glared down on them like baleful eyes, and the outermost wall seemed to shift and change position in the haze of the far distance, as if it resented being looked at directly.

  Behind the black castle, a thin curtain of fire shot straight up, illuminating the barren plain around it. Following the licking flames down to their source, Helen realized that she must be looking at Phlegethon, the River of Eternal Fire that encircled the Palace of Hades.