The Prophecy

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Turning around, I cut over to the left and then headed past the empty tables once more. What in the hell was going on? Had Medusa left the library, therefore taking the doors with her?

  If so, that sucked.

  Because what did that leave me with? A big fat nothing, because with Medusa gone, that left it up to my father to randomly appear and impart some useful information. Which was as likely as me deciding to never eat bacon again.

  This was big. Huge.

  The demigods’ icons, what they needed when their powers were unbound, were in that place Medusa had taken me to.

  And that place had been under the library…and yet somehow outside it.

  It had been one of the gateways to Olympus.

  Full of frustration, I all but stomped my way back to the dorm. Once inside, I walked to the center of the sitting room and then I looked to the ceiling.

  “Apollo?” I called out, wincing because I felt kind of foolish. My gaze flickered over the ceiling and I waited. Nothing. “Dad?”

  Reaching for my braid, I ran my fingers over it as I tried again. “Apollo? If you can hear me, I could really, seriously use to talk to you right now.”

  Silence.

  I moved closer to the doorway to the bedroom like I could, I don’t know, get better reception to Olympus or something. “I really need to talk to you about the demigods and the Titans. We have no idea how to entomb them or how to unlock their powers.”

  Still nothing.

  The frustration began to give way to anger. “And the doors in the library are gone. How can the demigods get access to their icons if Medusa isn’t here? How in the hell can we fight the Titans? What are we supposed to do? It’s not like we can train them to fight. It would take months, if not years, to get them to the point where they can go toe to toe with a Titan. And not to mention, they’re basically human. They can’t be expected to be able to fight like we’d need them to.”

  And still, there was no response.

  I dropped my braid and my hands curled into fists as I stared up until the stupid—so stupid—burn behind my lids forced me to close my eyes. “Do you know? I’m pregnant. I’m going to be a mother and Seth is going to be a father and you…” My voice cracked as a knot formed in my throat. “You’re going to be a grandfather. Do you not even care?”

  Opening my eyes, I stood there in silence as I lowered my chin. Hot tears crawled their way up my throat—stupid tears. So stupid, because I wasn’t even sure why I was so bothered by the lack of response. Yes, he was my father, but he hadn’t raised me, and he hadn’t given me any real indication that he was remotely interested in forging any type of father/daughter relationship.

  But damn, it still hurt.

  Letting out a ragged breath, I wiped at my damp cheeks. “Pull it together,” I ordered myself. “No time for tears.”

  After taking yet another deep, cleansing breath, I flipped my braid over my shoulder and then left my room. Knowing that Cora and Gable were good to go with Colin, I was going to do the next best thing I could do since Medusa was currently a bust and my father was off doing who knew what.

  I was going to practice with the elements.

  Clouds were beginning to fill the sky when I walked outside again, blocking out the sun and dropping the temperature. Since I was going out to the field that tended to get windy on a calm day, I wished I’d grabbed a hoodie or something, but I kept walking. Maybe the clouds would clear.

  Nearing the infirmary and cafeteria buildings, I rounded the corner of the building, passing a group of students who were clustered together, off to the side on the lawn. I reached the edge of the sprawling portico that surrounded the entrance to the cafeteria. I stepped out—

  From between the thick marble columns, a heavy, metal outdoor chair flew across the walkway, smacking into a nearby tree.

  “Holy crap!”

  Something big barreled right at me. I jumped to the side, planting myself against the building as I narrowly missed being taken down by a…by a person. Pushing off the wall, I spun just as the person slammed into the walkway with a sickening crack. Marble underneath him splintered.

  Whirling around, my lips parted on a sharp inhale as I stared out over the courtyard in front of the cafeteria. People were everywhere. Halfs. Pures. Sentinels and Guards in the middle of them, shouting orders. It was absolute chaos.

  And I’d walked right into the middle of it.

  ~

  Seth

  The sun had gone down, and flames were flickering from the brick fireplace despite the fact that it was summer, and if I saw another basket of fish and chips come out of the kitchen, I might actually burn the building down.

  So far, the trip to Pluckley had turned up…nothing. The patrons of the pub were, frankly, so mortal I was bored to tears. No fighting or even shouting. Well, there was a game on the TV, and that had caused some yelling, but nothing to raise an eyebrow. Not even a ghost, much to Deacon’s disappointment.

  And Alex and Aiden had left for a little while and did some scouting around the few local businesses. Nothing suspicious there.

  I was more than ready to get out of there and get back to Josie, but…

  There was a weird feeling building between my shoulder blades. Had been for the last two hours. As I sat in the wooden chair, drinking bitter ale, this sharp tingle began and hadn’t gone away. It reminded me of the feeling you get when someone is eyeballing the fuck out of you.

  Except for curious glances from the townsfolk, no one was paying a damn bit of attention to us. I kept looking over my shoulder and seeing nothing. The only thing I managed to do was commit the faces of the patrons to memory.

  If the demigod was here, he was nicely hidden, and short of going door to door, we needed a better plan.

  “What’s the game plan?” I asked once Alex had returned from the restroom.

  Aiden leaned back, draping his arm along the back of Alex’s chair. “I think we can give it a couple of more hours, but I don’t see the point of staying the night.”

  Deacon looked up from the menu of desserts. “I am so staying the night.”

  “Deacon—”

  “You’ll have to pull my cold, dead body out of here if you think I’m going to miss the chance to stay at the B&B down the road. Do you know—?”

  “I really do not think they want to hear about whatever ghost may be haunting that place,” Luke cut in as the tingle between my shoulder blades intensified. He ignored Deacon’s narrowed gaze. “We can head out. Check out the town again. Maybe—”

  A sudden heavy thud drew our attention. I looked over my shoulder just as a bar stool rolled across the uneven floorboards. My gaze flew to the bar. Several men stood there, their backs to us.

  Aiden pulled his arm off Alex’s chair as she twisted in her seat. “Could just be someone drunk.”

  “Could be,” Alex murmured.

  A man in a dark shirt stumbled back a step just as a shorter, older fellow with gray hair picked up his tall mug of frothy, amber liquid.

  “What is your problem, Kent?” the younger man demanded. “You’re acting like an utter twat.”

  “Whoa.” Deacon’s eyes widened. “That’s hardcore.”

  Said twat turned, gripping his mug. “You’re taking a piss at me.”

  “What?” whispered Alex. “Did he just get peed on?”

  I snickered. “That’s not what it means.”

  Aiden shot her a quick grin before refocusing on the bar.

  Whatever the younger guy said in return was lost in laughter and jeers coming from the peanut gallery at the bar. Nothing was too out of the ordinary about this. Seemed like just a drunken argument.

  “Bloody arseholes.” The younger man shoved his fist out, making the universe sign for jerking off before he turned from the bar.

  Without saying a word, the old man—the man old enough to fucking know better—tossed the drink and the glass straight at the back of the younger man’s head.

  The man je
rked forward, his knees smacking off the floorboards as he gripped the back of his head.

  “Holy crap on a cracker,” gasped Alex, shooting out of her chair.

  “Why you go an’ do that?” someone at the bar demanded, stepping back with a scowl. His blond hair was a mess, like he’d been out in a wind tunnel.

  The old man, who was starting to remind me of Santa Claus, waved the man off. “Stop sticking your beak in, you massive bellend.”

  Blondie shot forward, slamming his fist right in Santa’s face. The old man pinwheeled backward. He was going down. Probably going to break a hip.

  I kicked my feet up on Alex’s empty chair and crossed my arms.

  Aiden was fast, though, flying out of his seat and catching Santa by the shoulders before he fell and hurt himself.

  “Careful there.” Aiden straightened him, letting go when he appeared sure the man wasn’t going down.

  Santa spun, his red face blotchy. “Who are you?” He looked Aiden up and down with an impressive level of distaste only a British person could muster. “Nothing but a silly cu—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence,” Aiden advised. “Seriously.”

  “Yeah?” Santa shot back, as belligerent as ever.

  Aiden stared down at the portly man, his voice flat. “Yeah.”

  Someone let out a shout that would’ve made a banshee proud. Luke rose just as the man who’d taken a glass to the back of the head charged the bar with a stool high over his head.

  Alex shot forward, snatching the barstool out of the man’s hands as blood trickled down his neck. She put the stool down. “Now, that’s not nice. You could really hurt someone.”

  The man turned on Alex and then he looked at her, really looked at her. “Well, you ain’t no minger.”

  I had no idea what “minger” meant, but Aiden didn’t like the sound of that. He was next to Alex in a nanosecond. Wrong move, because Santa was still on the move. He picked up the barstool.

  “Oh, shit.” Luke’s eyes widened as Deacon reached over, picking a cold fry off my plate and popping it in his mouth.

  Santa winged the barstool at the bar. That thing flew through the air like a damn Frisbee. The bartender ducked at the last second, and the stool crashed into the shelf lined with liquor. Glass shattered and liquor spewed into the air.

  Well, that had escalated quickly.

  The bartender popped up and vaulted over the bar. Vaulted. He tackled Santa, crashing into the table next to where we sat. Plates broke as a burly redhead snatched his beer off the table before it was lost.

  Luke ducked as a bottle flew over his head. He turned to me. “You going to get up and help anytime soon?”

  “Not yet.” My gaze trekked over the bar, searching out any new faces. I was sure I’d seen everyone come in, but obviously I had missed someone.

  Because if they’d been right about who this demigod was, he was in here.

  Deacon reached over our table and picked up my barely-touched plate of food. “Keeping it safe for you.”

  “Sure,” I murmured, scanning the bar.

  He backed away, cuddling the plate close to his chest.

  “Gods.” Alex swung, catching a tall, scrawny guy who was making a beeline for Deacon by the scruff of the neck. She tossed the guy back, and he slid along the now-slippery floor. “Seth, are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Immensely,” I murmured.

  Then I saw him.

  Well, saw the back of him.

  He was tall and his dark hair brushed the collar of the back of his white shirt. He’d easily dipped under a thrown punch that connected with some poor guy’s face. He was carrying a mug of what appeared to be beer.

  Every godly instinct in me told me that was who we were looking for.

  A slow smile spread over my face as I finally got my ass out of the chair. “Guys, I think we got a winner.”

  Chapter 16

  Josie

  I watched in stunned silence as a half-blood jumped off the portico and power-bombed a pure into the marble walkway, cracking the stone. Like, legit picked the pure up over his shoulders and then slammed him down like he was in some pro-wrestling match.

  “Holy crap,” I whispered. I started to look away, but something odd caught my attention. The pure on the ground was wearing a mask.

  The same mask I’d seen by the body of the half-blood girl. Before I could even process that, everything around me changed.

  Intense heat blasted the air. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a damn fireball heading straight for the half’s back. I reacted without thought.

  Raising my hand, I summoned the water element. Power rushed through me as the air around me dampened and constricted. It was like a tiny rainstorm erupted out of thin air, dousing the fireball before it hit the half.

  Water.

  Holy crap.

  I’d finally used the element of water correctly.

  I wanted to throw myself a little party, but there was no time to be proud of myself.

  The fire-happy pure turned to me as the half spun around. Lifting his hand, the pure halted the moment he got a really good look at who I was, and he froze right there. He too was wearing that mask.

  It was the same bronze mask, covering the entire face with just thin slits for eyes. The cheeks were overly round and the closed mouth formed a grotesque smile. Etched into the center of the mask’s forehead was that damn circle with an off-center arrow striking through it.

  Seeing it by itself was one thing, but seeing it on someone was a whole different experience.

  “Well, that’s a mask of nightmares,” I said.

  The masked man shuffled back a step, and then tucked tail and ran, dodging between sprawling halfs and pures.

  Starting forward, I scanned the open campus grounds and realized that several of the people fighting were masked. Dozens of them.

  “Thank you,” the half said, wiping a hand over his forehead as he stared at the wet spot on the walkway. “Shit. That would’ve killed me.”

  I started to ask him what had happened, but I saw a different half fly past us, her midsection pressed to the top of her thighs. It was like there was an invisible string attached to her waist, yanking her back toward the entrance of the cafeteria. She was a Guard dressed all in white, and the woman was going so fast through the air that I knew if she hit the building, it would break every bone in her body.

  I had to do something.

  Spinning, I tapped into the air element, but it was too late. The female Guard hit the wall. Blood splattered where the back of her head connected with the brickwork.

  I jolted as I sucked in a sharp breath.

  Someone screamed, but the words were lost as horror filled me. The Guard fell, crumpled in a bloody, messy heap.

  “Gods.” Anger pumped through my veins as I pivoted.

  Some part of me clicked off as I stalked past the half. There was fury just burning through my skin as I neared a fighting half and a masked pure. The pure was on top of the half. The clouds above parted. Sunlight glinted off a blade—an actual knife—as the pure swung his arm.

  This wasn’t fighting.

  They were trying to kill the halfs—they were killing them, just like they’d killed that girl and caused the death of the other half-blood when I first arrived here.

  And Seth had been right yesterday in Marcus’s office. I was bloodthirsty.

  I wasn’t thinking about what I was doing as I gripped the shoulder of the masked pure. I was just so pissed. There were Titans out there, hell-bent on taking over Olympus and the world, and they were fighting? Over what? Because one group had more aether in their blood?

  This was so damn stupid it went beyond tragic.

  My touch startled him. His downward swipe halted as his head swung in my direction, and I found myself staring down into those weird slits.

  “Asshole,” I said, and then I tapped into the air element.

  The masked pure flew backward, hitting the ground and then rolli
ng several more feet. The knife was lost in the grass.

  I continued walking, catching another masked pure off-guard. I threw him backward, into the center of the walkway. The man was stunned as I crouched over and gripped the edges of the mask. The pure grunted as it ripped off his face.

  I stared into the emerald-green eyes of a pure-blood that couldn’t have been much older than me. That got to me, cutting so deep. This guy was so young. “What is wrong with you?”

  The pure blanched to a pale, sickly white.

  Metal heated under the unnatural fire I summoned. Flames rippled over the mask, and within seconds ashes slipped from my fingers.

  “Holy shit.” The pure scrambled backwards, on his hands like a crab, and then he rolled. Pushing to his feet, he took off running.

  I smiled as I wiped my hands off on my jeans.

  I felt like a badass—like Maggie from The Walking Dead. I was leading the—

  Hands landed onto my shoulders, pulling me backward. I lost my balance and went down hard, landing on my butt with jarring force. The sunlight was blocked by a shadowy form, and the next thing I saw was a large boot coming down, aiming straight for my stomach. A burst of panic lit up. Not for me, but for my child.

  Rolling to the side, I grunted as the boot caught my hip. The spike of dull pain was nothing compared to how bad it could’ve been. I rose onto my hands and knees and then pushed up, springing to my feet. An odd feeling shot across my stomach. Not a pain, exactly, but more like a pulling sensation. There was no time to dwell on it. I darted to the side. Knowing I needed to avoid hand to hand combat, I summoned the air element.

  The masked pure jerked and then folded as if his legs had been cut out from underneath him. He hit the ground where I’d just been. Lifting my gaze, I saw Colin.

  “Hey,” I said, placing my hand over my stomach. “Thanks for that.”

  Concern pulled at his face. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” Breathing heavy as I lowered my hand from my stomach. Unless Alex or Deacon had told him, he didn’t know I was pregnant. Taking another look at him, I saw that his shirt had dark splotches all over. Blood. My stomach dipped. “Where are Cora and Gable?”