I spot my box on the ground, still intact, and run for it with my head bent. Just as my hand connects with the metal, a shriek resounds overhead. I whirl around to face the eagle diving at me. Instinctively, I point with my bow and shoot. The arrow pierces its broken wing, but I feel the pain as if I’d shot myself.
Before its friends can get to me, I retrieve my box and run for cover once again. I stumble inside the haven of the cavern to find Amy and Gabriel glaring at me, disappointment etched on their faces.
Gabriel splutters angrily before retreating toward the back of the cavern.
“You should have asked us to come with,” Amy spits before leaving me behind, clutching the box and my bow.
“I only wanted to protect you,” I whisper to no one. Then Joan and Madeline enter the cavern, and I step aside.
The celebratory party is held inside Prometheus’s cavern. The heroes have joined us to share congratulations and words of encouragement while only Aphrodite and Hephaestus represent the Olympian gods. The other divinities still hold a grudge against the titan who shared their godly fire with humans.
Heracles chats with Prometheus, looking small for the first time ever. Even standing up while Prometheus sits down, he barely reaches his waist.
Gabriel and Amy haven’t said more than one word to me since I left the cavern on my own earlier this afternoon. But they do honor to the magnificent buffet. I corner them both at the same time, using their stuffed mouths to my advantage.
“I’m very sorry about earlier. I didn’t want to endanger you.”
Amy swallows her piece of roast and washes it down with wine. “Then you’re dumber than you look. You’ll never win on your own.”
“It wasn’t about winning. I’m the one who forgot my box. I was the one who needed to retrieve it.”
“We’re your people,” Gabriel says. “We have your back, Hope. Why is it so hard for you to accept that?”
I consider his question. I’ve been on my own for a while now. There used to be a point in my life when I felt protected, almost too coddled. My mother always made sure of it. And I had friends, a lot of them. But with my mom’s illness, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to rely on someone else. I am the one she depends upon, and Lily, although she’s still my best friend, can’t begin to understand what I’m going through. I don’t even want her to. She’s golden and I’ve been trapped in drabness for a long time. I don’t want to dim her brightness with my problems. So I protect her as well.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” I say.
“So is this how you see us?” Amy asks.
Gabriel tilts his head to the side. “When you held my hand on the ledge, did you think I was a burden for you?”
“Of course not. You needed my help. Where else would I have been but by your side?”
“And what about when you stopped me from opening my box?” Amy asks.
“Same. I wasn’t about to let you hurt yourself for that bling fixation of yours.”
“Then why would you think you’re any different? If you’re there for us, then we get to be there for you,” Gabriel says.
“Well said, pretty boy,” Amy concurs.
I hang my head in shame. “I’m sorry if I worried you. That’s the last thing I wanted to do.”
Amy nods. “Then no more running away on your own. You come to us next time.”
“I promise.”
Amy shoves her half-full plate into my hands. “Now eat. You keep skipping meals. Athletes need their strength.”
Gabriel devours a rack of lamb, obviously agreeing with her statement. I dig in while Amy goes to find more sustenance. My first bite of rice with cranberry tastes positively heavenly. I’m starving.
Gabriel waits for me to be done eating before he asks. “Have you found out what happened to the losers?”
I don’t want to tell him. It still breaks my heart to think of it. And we’ve lost three more contenders today, two to their own curiosity as they opened their boxes and one who was maimed too badly by an eagle to complete his quest.
“You were with Hades’s son all morning. You must have asked him,” Gabriel insists.
I wish Cupid were here tonight to distract Gabriel. But I promised to be truthful, and my friend has proved to me he doesn’t need protecting. He’s come so far already since the beginning of trials.
“They were sent back home,” I answer.
“So there is a way back! You said there was none.”
I nod sorrowfully. “There is only one. Through Erebus.”
“Weren’t you there this morning?” Gabriel asks. “Was it that scary?”
“Not what I saw. But Gabriel, to go back, you have to drink from the River Lethe. It strips you of your memories.”
His eyes cloud as he registers what I told him. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am. I had a fight with Kieron when he told me. Losing your memories is worse than death.”
“When your memories are good.” His answer catches me by surprise. “There’s so much I’d like to forget. Amnesia doesn’t sound so frightful.”
“But who are you if not your memories?” I ask.
“Maybe someone my father could stomach.”
“You don’t mean it.”
“I don’t know, Hope. It might be a blessing in disguise.”
I shake my head in denial. “I thought you were over it. Look at how much more confident you are.”
“Here I’m protected. Back home?” I hate the hurt and pain in his expression. “My father is dangerous, Hope. I don’t think being me is worth dying over.”
Amy, whom I didn’t even see approaching, cuts in. “I’d rather die than go back.”
I dart frightened glances between both of my friends. I can’t believe I’m hearing this. This is too much.
“Besides, Erebus doesn’t sound half bad. That’s where I’d go if I died, right?” She forces a smile. “Sounds much more fun than boring Heaven.”
“Being trapped there for eternity? Amy, it’s not even an option.”
“Not to you, maybe. I’d choose a forever life in the Elysian Fields any day over hustling one more minute on Earth. I have no one to go back to, Hope.”
“What about me? What about Gabriel? We’d be there.”
“Not if you win. And even if you did go back, you just said you wouldn’t remember anything, let alone me.” She grins again, this time for real. “Don’t go thinking I’m suicidal or anything. I’m still in it for the win, even if it means turning you two into brainless zombies.”
Gabriel gasps. “Amy!”
I break into peals of laughter. It feels good to find a release for today’s pent-up emotions.
“Bring it on, descendant of Hermes. And may the best challenger win.”
Amy winks. “You know it’s totally going to be me.”
Chapter 25
“Yesterday wasn’t too bad, all things considered,” Amy says as we leave the breakfast table.
“I don’t think Emily would say the same.”
“Well, she doesn’t remember anything anymore, so maybe she would.”
“That is so not funny, Amy.”
She grins at me. “You’re way too uptight. Are you heading back to Erebus this morning?”
“Not today.”
I can’t see Kieron yet. I’m too mad. And he hasn’t sought me out either, so the feeling must be reciprocal. I take the road leading uptown.
“I’ll walk you to Hermes’s. Then I think I’ll hit the library again.”
“All this studying in the dark is starting to show,” she says as she follows me. “I didn’t think you could get this pale. Are you going for a Goth look?”
I shrug. “It would fit the dress.”
Once we’ve reached her final destination, I steer right toward the arena. I soak in the sun as I stroll through a vibrant prairie. Amy’s right, I’ve been cooped up inside for too long. I pick up a book from the library then return outside to read. There’s no reason
I should wilt away in the stuffy library like Ariadne. She probably has her own reasons for hiding out between the covers of books, but I don’t see why I should as well.
I’m startled to find Marcus training in the arena instead of preparing with Ares. He’s the war god’s only challenger now. I’d expect him to have gained in importance rather than be left to his own devices. His eyes still haven’t lost their frenzied edge as he stabs a dummy repeatedly with his broadsword.
I’m so taken by his futile fight that I forget to look where I’m going and knock down a dummy with my shoulder, causing quite the commotion. In his surprise, Marcus drops his sword on his foot, bringing forth an astonishingly long line of cuss words as blood sprouts from his big toe.
“I’m so sorry,” I gasp, sprinting toward him.
Marcus squeezes his eyes shut against the pain. “It’s ok. It doesn’t hurt much.”
I bend down to inspect his toe, which is only nicked—a miracle considering the sharp blade that hit it.
“I scared you.”
His russet eyes are stern as he gazes down at me. “You didn’t. The contents of Emily’s box did.”
“What did you see?” I ask as I look for a way to stop the bleeding.
“You don’t want to know.”
I tear a piece of fabric off his dummy to bandage his toe. “I do, actually.”
“I saw my mom and my little brother.”
“Doesn’t sound too bad.” I pause. “Wait, I thought you were an orphan.”
“I’m on my own now,” he replies.
I offer vague condolences as I reach for his toe. My fingers glow faintly. I shake them off to remove the strange radiance, trying not to alarm Marcus. This must be my power awakening. If I’m truly a descendant of Asclepius, maybe I could—
I bring both of my palms over the injury and try to relax as the heat seeping from them intensifies. I focus on the wound, picturing the skin stitching itself back together and the light bleeding receding.
“In my vision, my brother was dead. Killed by my mother,” Marcus says, making my head snap back toward him. “The blood. I can’t seem to forget it, as if it were covering my hands instead of hers.”
The fire in my fingertips extinguishes. I drag my stare away from Marcus’s haunted face to gawk at the wound. It is gone.
His foot goes rigid beneath my fingers. “Did you just heal me?”
“I guess so.”
I stand up. I’d rather discuss his fears than comment on this miracle. It could just be beginner’s luck.
“It was just a hallucination, Marcus. Nothing more.”
If his parents are dead, clearly it couldn’t happen.
His jaw twitches. “My mother killed my father, Hope. What would stop her from killing my brother if she ever gets out of jail?”
Compassionate tears brim in my eyes. I can’t begin to fathom this kind of pain.
“Where’s your brother now?”
“He was adopted. I haven’t seen him in ten years.”
“And your mother is still in jail?”
“A mental institution. She’s sick. It makes her violent.” He kicks at the sawdust. “You can’t understand.”
“My mother is sick as well,” I reply.
I can’t understand the violence, but I get the disease. I also begin to notice a pattern among the challengers. Melody’s mother is unwell, and Gabriel’s father is violent. A few other kids have similar stories that I overheard. Could all these illnesses be linked? Is there a disease that hits the gods’ descendants? And if so, why aren’t the gods helping?
“Thank you for healing me,” Marcus says as a way to dismiss me.
Clearly, Marcus needs time alone to process what happened yesterday.
“Considering I’m the one who caused it in the first place, it’s the least I could do. I’ll see you later, ok?”
He glares at the dummy, as if I were already gone. “Yeah. See you.”
I return to the library to search for proof of my theory. Unfortunately, Ariadne is out for once, and there’s no book titled Descendants of the Gods Gone Mad.
I settle for an old book on ancient Greek quests and head out to read in the clearing where I once met the Pythia. Seated on a rock, the sun warming my skin, I’m finally starting to relax and enjoy myself.
If I ever needed to pick a place to hide, I would seek refuge inside a book. There’s something about the musty smell emanating from the yellowed pages and the perfect alignment of printed words that appeases me. It is orderly, in massive contrast with my out-of-control life.
“You didn’t show up for our session this morning,” Kieron interrupts my reverie.
I glare at him over the edge of my book. “No, I didn’t.”
Exasperation makes him straighten ever so slightly, tension swelling the lean muscles in his arms. “You need to prepare for your quest.”
“I am.” I slam the book shut.
The semblance of a smile curls Kieron’s lips. “You’re still mad at me.”
“Well, aren’t you mad at me?” I was rude to him yesterday. Me, the insignificant human, snapping at glorious him. I can’t believe he would let the offense slide so easily.
His smile fades away. “Holding a grudge requires me to care. You forget I don’t know how.”
“Because you don’t know love?”
“Or hatred.” He shrugs. “I’m indifferent.”
“To me? Thanks for clarifying that.” I hug the book close to my chest, ready to put as much distance as humanly possible between us. But the angry lump lodged inside my throat demands I ask. “If you’re so indifferent, why are you here?”
“Enjoying the silence.”
“By talking to me? You don’t make any sense.”
He leans toward me, so close that I get lost in the infinite darkness of his eyes. “I would avoid this discussion if I could, but I have a stake in this competition now.”
“So it’s about the bargain?” I ask. My fury ebbs slightly as I’m reminded of the chance he’s taken on me. “What are the terms?”
“Nothing to concern you with. But I need you to focus. You must win—for everyone’s sake.”
I draw back. I need physical space between us to concentrate. “I’m a good student. Just give me the Cliff’s Notes for the quest, and you can be on your way.”
Kieron points to my book. “Smart suggestion. I’d focus on Heracles today if I were you.”
I grit my teeth so much it hurts. “Anything else?”
“If you’re such a good student, that should suffice.” He steps back, once again planning to leave me without saying goodbye.
This time I steal his big exit. Before he can react, I jump down from the boulder and dash across the clearing. Just before reaching the cover of the trees, I glance back at him. Kieron has stolen my seat on the boulder and stares back at me, a bemused smile dancing on his full lips. Not the reaction I’d expected, but it’s too late to go back and confront him about it.
Hooves clatter against the carpet of leaves. I duck behind a large elm and hold my breath as a centaur navigates the forest’s maze. I’m seized by an impulse to follow him.
Quietly, I trail after him into the dense woods. He’s already disappeared, but I follow the sound of his hooves crushing dried leaves.
His trail leads me to another smaller clearing that I haven’t encountered yet, with a marble temple in the center. Bushes of wild roses sprout at its base as if the temple has grown flowery roots. There is no sign of the centaur, as if his only purpose was to beckon me here. I survey the clearing a while longer, hidden behind a shrub, before finding the courage to visit the temple.
The Pythia, in a deep purple gown, kneels before an altar adorned with Apollo’s crest. I stumble.
“Hope. Finally, we meet again,” she says without looking at me. Not that she could see me even if she did.
“How do you always know it’s me?”
She cackles. “I’m a seer. I see far too much.”
“I have questions. Can you help me?”
“Perhaps. But you’ll get only one answer today, so choose wisely.”
The first question on my lips is about the challengers’ parents and their similar mental illnesses. But I swallow it. That answer won’t help me immediately. Not until I understand how Mount Olympus works and whether I could ever get back with my memory intact to help my mother.
I need to understand how we got here in the first place.
“I’ve been told the only way out of Mount Olympus is through Erebus and drinking from the River Lethe. But the challengers didn’t follow that path. How can the doors to Mount Olympus be open on the outside but closed from within?”
The Pythia stands up but she keeps facing the altar. “The fabric between our worlds has been sealed shut for a long time. As humans stopped believing, the gods found themselves trapped here. The gates are closed on both sides, dear child.”
“But we came in.”
“The Winter Solstice opened a fleeting portal. Mount Olympus’ magic filtered through and colored the moon blue with the gods’ powers. For one night only, the gods could not step on Earth, but use their powers to call forth their young heroes to Mount Olympus.”
“Just that one night? How did you know? And why do all the challengers come from New York?”
“Those are three more questions, Hope, but I’ll answer you. The rip in the Fabric was small that night, allowing Olympus’s light to shine only over New York. So the gods’ sphere of influence was restricted to that area alone. As for your other questions, I had a vision almost two centuries ago. The gods have waited ever since for that day to come.”
“But why? Why do they need us?”
The Pythia turns toward me and lifts her purple veil, revealing lips as dry as old parchment, etched into an enigmatic smile. “These, I’m afraid, are questions for another day.”
I’m not ready to leave her yet. Too many question marks loom over me still.
“A second quest begins today. Would you like to read the omen with me?” she asks, as if she’s sensed my reluctance to leave.
Olympian Challenger Page 16
