by Raye Wagner
Athan took the silver frame with him as he went to pack. Within minutes, he was shoving the Book of the Fates on top of his clothes, and then he zipped up the bag. He had no idea how long he’d be gone. He didn’t even know where he was going. Not that any of it even mattered. He glanced around his room, and his gaze landed on a pen and pad of paper. He rushed to scribble one last note.
“Are you ready to go?” Hermes asked as he pushed open the door to Athan’s room.
“Almost.” Athan scribbled the warning about the Olympians and told them to talk with Haley and Mr. Stanley.
“Son!” Hermes shouted impatiently. “We need to leave.”
Athan underlined the Stanleys’ names on the paper, hoping Xan or Hope would put it together, in case Hermes found a way out of the oath. “Just a second!”
Hermes appeared next to Athan at Hope’s dresser, duffle in hand. Hermes grabbed his son’s arm, and without warning, they teleported.
The room blinked out of existence, and in the very next second, as Athan’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he was filled with dread. Black stone. Everywhere. The air was heavy, warm, and ripe with the scent of decay. Shadowy mists scuttled over the uneven ground. He looked to his father as horror clawed its way over and through him. Athan waved his arms, and his vexation mounted when he saw he was still holding the note and pen in his hands. He wanted to yell in frustration. “What are we doing here?”
Hermes frowned, the edges of his lips turned down in a small act of sympathy. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t like it here, but—”
“I hate it.”
“It was all I could think of. The Olympians can’t reach you here.”
Athan rolled his eyes. It might be better to face the Olympians who weren’t already upset. “But Hades—”
Hermes shook his head. “He’s already sworn an oath, remember? The other gods will take his lead. You’ll be safe here. I promise.” Hermes dropped Athan’s bag on the ground, and then another, almost identical one, next to it. “There’s plenty of food and water there to last you at least a week, maybe two if you ration it. I’ll be back before then.”
“Skata! No, Dad. I’m not staying here. Please? Please, don’t make me stay here.” Memories of Hecate and Dahlia weighed heavily on him, and they were compounded when he thought of Hope in the Lethe, driven there because of his kiss with Isa. “Please don’t make me stay here.”
Hermes frowned, and his son’s pain reflected back in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Son.”
“No, wait!” Athan shoved the hasty note at his father. “Give this to Hope.”
Hermes grabbed the paper, and then Athan was alone.
Hope huddled behind a large evergreen tree, peeking out every few minutes to see if Xan had pulled into the rest stop. Being completely naked in the woods after sunset in the spring was an experience, she decided, she never wanted to repeat. Never.
Xan’s sporty coupe pulled into the long parking lot, and Hope hugged herself in excitement. The secluded rest stop outside the Olympic National Forest was completely empty, and she watched as he parked in the stall under the only streetlight. He exited the car with a plastic shopping bag in hand and scanned the tree line.
“Xan,” she yelled, waving her arm from behind the trunk. “Over here!”
He sauntered over to the tree line and held out the bag.
Hope cleared her throat and waited, but Xan wasn’t taking the hint. “I’m not coming out there until after I’m dressed.”
“Right,” he said with a chuckle. “Sorry.”
He brought her the bag, but she waited for him to step back onto the sidewalk before looking to see what he’d bought. She held up blue lacy underwear and a matching bra. “Really? Where did you go shopping?”
He grunted from the edge of the parking lot. “The mall. I went into the first store I came to.”
She put the bra on and had another thought. How did he know what size she wore? With a shake of her head, she decided she wasn’t even going to go there. She pulled out black leggings, fluffy socks, and an oversized sweatshirt. She got dressed and then asked, “Where are the shoes?”
Xan coughed. “They didn’t have shoes. Sorry.”
As soon as he apologized, she felt guilty. “No. It’s fine. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
She stepped out from the trees to see Xan walking back toward the car, and she hurried to catch up. As she slid into the passenger seat, the overwhelming smell of him assaulted her. He hadn’t showered since their attack. “Did you go back to the apartment today?”
“No.” Xan’s gaze was heavy as he studied her. “I’ve been waitin’ here. For you. And afore you ask, I haven’t been able to reach Athan. I left him a message when I was at the mall, but I’ve been here since yesterday, and there’s no service.”
She swallowed heavily, the guilt of another sacrifice weighing on her. “I’m sorry.”
“Please,” he said as he started the car, “stop apologizing. You need to let me be responsible for me.” He turned to face her. “Let Athan be responsible for Athan, for his decisions and his actions. You are not responsible for us. So, I’m begging you to stop apologizing.”
He pulled out of the rest stop, and they merged onto the freeway.
The drive back to Olympia was silent. It didn’t matter what Xan said, or anyone else for that matter. She still felt guilty. But she wasn’t so proud that she wouldn’t accept their help. She couldn’t do this without them. So even though she wanted to apologize, over and over and over again, for everything that was happening, she would accept their assistance and be grateful.
“Thank you, Xan.” Hope leaned over in her seat to kiss his cheek, his scratchy whiskers rough on her lips.
His features relaxed, and his scowl softened. “Aye, lass. You’re very welcome.”
Hope had never been so happy to return to an apartment before. Of course, she’d never had Athan waiting for her like this before either. By her reckoning, they would’ve been gone for about two weeks. Or possibly six, considering the fact that she’d just changed. It was probably sweet justice that he’d had to wait for her. But before the thought of vindication had time to take root, an overwhelming feeling of love filled her. Had she told him how appreciative she was for everything he’d done to help her? Even if she had, it bore repeating, and she smiled with the anticipation of seeing him again.
As they exited the highway, Hope pulled her thoughts away from Athan and their pending reunion. Xan was probably plotting what to do next, and she should focus on that too. It was only fair.
“What’s next? Should we try Artemis ourselves? Maybe she’ll give us an audience now that she’s had time to cool off.”
Xan clenched his jaw, the skin around his eyes tightening. “No, I don’t think she will. The gods have very long memories, and it hasn’t been nearly long enough for her to have forgotten what happened in Bellevue.”
Hope had totally forgotten about that. “Then what do you propose?”
Xan didn’t answer, and the silence transformed into something foreboding.
Hope felt an urge to do something, but in the confines of the car, there was nothing to do. She leaned forward and turned on the seat warmer and then shifted in her seat nervously. “What else can we do?”
“I have no idea, Hope.” Xan’s gaze shifted to her and then back to the road. “No bloody idea.”
Hope’s heart sunk at the defeat in his voice. She’d never heard Xan give up, and she unconsciously opened her mouth in awe.
“Maybe Athan will have an idea.” He cleared his throat and then mumbled, “At least I hope so.”
They pulled into the crowded lot and found a spot across from their building. Hope belligerently refused to let Xan’s bad mood weigh her down. She slammed the car door behind her and sprinted through the walkway toward their building, almost tripping over her stockinged feet when shock rendered her immobile.
The half of the building that remained was only a charred corpse. The light
s from the other buildings were just bright enough to see the only evidence their apartment had ever existed in the blackened pieces of concrete foundation that outlined where the structure had once been. Yellow caution tape fluttered from the iron stairwell railing, broken in two.
The air was crisp and cool, indicating the destruction had not just happened. The area had been washed clean from the violence.
“Bloody Hades,” Xan breathed the invective next to her.
Words utterly failed her. An aching desolation expanded from her chest to her limbs, and she sank to the ground. Gone, everything was gone.
“Athan,” she whispered.
But silence was the only response.
Xan pulled her up. “We need to go.”
She wheeled on him. “What more could they do? It’s gone, Xan.” She waved her arm at the ruin. “All of it. Gone.” Her mind spun and churned, going over and over the scene before her. “How could they do that?”
It was a rhetorical question. These were the same gods who beat and killed their own children. The same gods who created cursed monsters from people who refused them. These were the gods who bred hate, jealousy, and anger. They lied and manipulated. They left massive devastation in their wake.
“Athan!” she screamed. She leaped to her feet and ran toward the concrete, desperate to believe there might be a clue to his disappearance.
The ground was covered with debris, and the glass and shards of metal ripped through her puffy socks, gouging her feet. She ignored the pain as she walked over the charred concrete, searching for something of his.
Xan remained on the sidewalk as though waiting for Hope’s acceptance of the evidence around her. But she refused to accept this.
“His father probably came for him,” Xan called to her. “Hermes is like that. He wouldn’t have stood by and let the others obliterate his son.”
The words were a balm to her soul, and she raced back to Xan. “We should go to him. Go to his temple. We could petition him . . .”
Xan took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling slowly. With another inhalation, he raised his head and squared his shoulders. “Hope.”
Hearing her name, the sympathy in Xan’s voice, and also his determination frayed and unraveled what was left of her composure. She couldn’t believe it. Xan was telling her no. And she could feel the futility of her suggestion in the very air around her. Tears filled her eyes, and the emotion she’d stuffed deep into her soul pushed against the dam.
“Hope.”
She shook her head. She just needed a minute. She was going to lose it, and she couldn’t deal with anything else, not even Xan’s compassion. “Just—”
Xan put his arm around her. “Let’s go find somewhere to sleep tonight. We can plan our next step in the morning.”
Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she wiped at them furiously, angry with their betrayal of her weakness. She sucked in a deep breath and willed herself to stop crying.
“I know how you feel,” he said as he guided her away from the building. “I do. But Hermes won’t let anything happen, right? He killed all of his own priests. I’m sure he’ll keep Athan safe.” Xan rested his hand on Hope’s back. “Don’t give up yet. Let’s go. I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”
Hope nodded, accepting the wisdom of a good night’s sleep before rushing into anything. But she wasn’t ruling out a trip to Hermes’s temple, either. “Okay.”
They turned toward the car, and Hope let out a gasp.
Hermes unhitched himself from the passenger side of the vehicle and strode toward them. He wore his traditional three-piece suit, but his vest was unbuttoned, and his green tie hung loosely around his neck.
Hope wanted to run to him. She wanted to scream at him. But he held up his hand, and the words dried up in her throat.
“Son of Ares. Daughter of Leto.” Hermes nodded at each of them. His gaze remained on Hope as he continued. “Athan is safe.”
When Hope opened her mouth to ask where, he again held up his hand. “I’ll not tell you where. It wouldn’t serve either of us for you to know. Just trust me; he is safe.”
“Why are you here?” Xan asked, leveling his narrowed gaze at Hermes. “Why would you come offering assurances?”
Hermes pursed his lips before answering. Extending his arm, he held out a scrap of yellow paper and said, “I am bound to bring you information.”
Xan snatched the paper and then tucked it into his pocket before Hope could even extend her arm. “Is that all?”
Hermes’s jaw tightened. “Not all men who father a child are truly fathers.”
Xan glared at Hermes. “Not all gods are truthful.”
Hermes’s expression turned to stone. “I am bound to tell you that you could seek aid from the god of the sea, and if that fails, consider Peter Stanley.” He gritted his teeth while he sucked in a breath. “As an act of goodwill, I’ll add this warning: If you get to Olympus, be very wary. The gods know you were at the Olympian temple when the contents were destroyed, and most are very angry, even if they don’t show it. If you decide to make alliances . . .” He shook his head. “Don’t make alliances.” He glanced at his watch and tensed. With a pointed look, he said, “You’d best not stay here any longer.”
Without waiting for a reply, Hermes blinked out of their realm.
“Well, he’s all sorts of pleasant and bloody helpful, too,” Xan said, pulling Hope’s arm to get her to follow him back to the car. “I believe him about Olympus and about leaving here, though. But I wouldn’t trust a single one of the gods to keep their word unless they swore on the Styx, right?”
Hope thought of her dealings with Hades as she slid back in her seat. “Right.”
Feeling overwhelmed, Hope rested her head and closed her eyes. She let the darkness of night and the sound of the road noise lull her into the arms of some much needed rest.
The hinges on the door squeaked, and then Xan was lifting her. She relaxed into his arms and let him carry her. When he set her on a bed, she rolled onto her side and disappeared into exhausted oblivion.
Sunlight streamed through the sliver of open curtain, hitting Hope squarely in the eye. She shifted then rolled to get out of the light, but consciousness teased her, and she accepted the welcoming whispers that Athan was safe, and so were she and Xan.
The rest of it—this world, this life, the meddling of the gods—was not fair. It was not right. And even though she’d been told there was nothing they could do about it, she’d refused to accept it. Which had created a bigger mess.
The edge of the bed dipped as Xan sat next to her, but Hope wasn’t quite ready to face him. She shut her eyes, closing out the disappointment that might show on his face. Even though she was fearful of the truthfulness she might hear, she asked, “Do you believe we can do this? Do you still think we can break the curse?”
When he didn’t immediately respond, she opened her eyes and turned to face him.
“Aye.” A ghost of a smile pulled at his lips, and he met her questioning gaze with confidence. “I’ve never once doubted it. You are the bravest, strongest, and most persistent person I know, Hope. And if you wanted to overthrow all of Olympus, I bet you could do it.”
He winked at her, and his faith in her settled deep in her bones. She could do this, and she would. “I don’t want to overthrow Olympus. I just want my life to be mine.”
Xan’s throaty chuckle warmed her heart. “So you’ve said.”
He brushed the hair off her face and then stood. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of folded yellow paper. Dropping it on to the cheap hotel comforter he said, “This is for you.”
She remembered Xan taking it from Hermes last night.
When she opened it, Athan’s handwriting greeted her, and she read,
Dearest Hope,
My dad came today and told me that Ares had refused your petition. I’m so sorry. I wish I could be there to help you. I’d love nothing more than to be by yo
ur side. But, I fear my mortality is a weakness that could affect you.
My dad is taking me somewhere safe. I’ve made him swear on the Styx to give you this same information, but it bears repeating. Try Poseidon, and if he won’t aid you, go to Peter Stanley.
I’ll continue to be thinking of you, trying to figure out a way to help you more. I’ll never give up.
I love you.
Always,
Athan
She folded the letter in half and noticed he’d scribbled something on the back as well. Haley and Peter Stanley. The names were underlined.
Opening the paper back up, Hope handed the note to Xan and pointed to the bottom. “It looks like we need to pay another visit to the god of the sea.”
Xan’s face turned to granite. “Shite.”
The air coming in with the tide smelled of brine. The murky grayish-green water was not pretty, even if the scene surrounding it was. Behemoth boulders dotted the dark sand as if Sisyphus had let these roll down the mountain to the sea, but these few hadn’t made it into the water with the rest of his burden.
Traveling south on Highway 101, Hope stared out the window while Xan drove. She loved the picturesque views of quaint towns and the beach interspersed with tall evergreens.
When the swollen clouds began leaking misty moisture, Xan grunted in disgust. “We’d better pull off. This rain isn’t going to go away, and I don’t want to be standing on the beach if it starts pouring.”
They exited the highway and drove through the town of Cannon Beach until they arrived at a parking lot marked Beach Access.
Xan opened his door and circled around to get Hope’s.
Chilly, salty air clung to her, making the hairs on her exposed skin stand on end. As she and Xan wound through a path, Hope kicked at the sand.
All she could think was Poseidon better help them.
Xan stopped on the beach and bent to untie his shoes. “Remember, we have to get in the water, lass.”
Hope had forgotten, but she lifted her feet, one at a time, to remove her shoes.
