Theta

by Lizzy Ford

  “What in Hades was that about?” she demanded, rounding on me.

  At my look, she softened. I felt like crying, and she sensed it.

  “Chocolate makes you feel better.” She brought me the tray of snacks and sat down on my bed. “Come on. Talk to me.”

  I went. I gazed past her briefly at the names scrawled in purple marker lining the wall.

  I’m going to need more space, if the vision is true, I thought and then shuddered. I nibbled on a chocolate croissant, trying to wrap my head around how to explain what I’d seen. Leandra waited patiently.

  “I had my first vision,” I said finally. “It was of the world ending.”

  Leandra stared at me.

  “You all knew what I was long before anyone told me,” I continued. “What am I supposed to do? Did the priests tell you guys anything about my powers at all?”

  She didn’t speak for a full two minutes. At last, she shook her head. “We knew what you were, but we assumed you would know what that entailed when the time came,” she said. “What exactly did you see?”

  I shared the vision with her in as few words as possible and then mentioned Cecelia’s coma.

  “Cecelia has been helping me suppress my abilities, because of Cleon,” I continued, distraught. “But now, Cecelia’s in a coma, and I have no one to help me understand what I’m capable of.”

  “You have to learn. You have to figure it out,” Leandra said urgently. “Damn Cleon. You have to become as strong as you can, so you can stop this from happening!”

  “But that’s the opposite of what Cecelia says. She says my power has to stay contained, or I’ll wipe out everyone. And this is proof.” I pulled up my sleeve to reveal the double omega tattoo.

  “I may not know much about what you’re supposed to do, but I do know you have to fight a battle. Maybe more than one,” Leandra said. “How can you do that, if you’re suppressing your power?”

  From anyone else on the compound, I would’ve ignored the advice that ran counter to what the only other Oracle in existence claimed to be best for me. Leandra’s rationale was nearly identical to what Herakles would say. If I weren’t as strong as I could be, how could I win? I sometimes wondered if I shouldn’t at least experiment with my magic, to see what I could do, and wasn’t there some benefit in foreseeing the future? Wouldn’t that give me an advantage?

  Since arriving to this compound, I’d been in a state of profound confusion. I knew Cecelia was angry; her emotion reached me often during our lessons. Was her judgment clouded, or did she advise me to suppress myself because she foresaw what happened if I didn’t?

  With her out of the picture, I had no one else to help me navigate what I was, aside from Leandra.

  “You’re the strongest since the first,” Leandra added. “What if Cecelia is trying to help you but doesn’t really know how, when you’re destined for something only one other Oracle in ten thousand years has done?”

  Leandra made sense. “What about Cleon? He can manipulate some of my power now,” I said, torn. “What if he’s the reason the apocalypse happens, because I became stronger and he uses my power to destroy the world?”

  “Alternately, what if you being weak is what allows him to act?” she challenged.

  I sighed. I was paralyzed by the morality of wielding the power I possessed.

  Leandra appeared pensive, chewing on her lower lip, before she stood and paced. “We weren’t prepared for this,” she admitted. “Give me a couple of days to see what I can learn. I’ll talk to Theodocia, too. I can’t tell you how to handle your own power, except to say I think you need to be as strong as possible to withstand what might have to be done to Cleon.”

  Her words sent a chill through me. If there was one name I wanted on my wall, it was Cleon’s, but not if it meant all of existence ceased as well.

  “Come one. We need to get you ready for tonight. When you’re at the dinner, I’ll send word to Theodocia,” Leandra said with a glance at the clock on my nightstand.

  Talking to her helped me feel far less alone handling the fate of all of humanity. As I showered, I forced myself to review the vision in my head. Lantos claimed there were clues or information in the visions I should be able to interpret.

  I was drawing a complete blank, though. I’d been so upset, so stunned, I saw no details, only a ghostly Adonis, the flames and nothingness. How often would I have visions? Would I have a second shot to try to interpret this one, or had I condemned us all already because I was too overwhelmed to notice hints that could help me change the future?

  Tears rose as hot water washed away the sweat from my workout. I hated being helpless. Herakles had trained me to be strong, and Adonis believed in me. Swallowing hard, I decided I was going to have to make a choice without Cecelia. I could no longer dwell in the gray area of whether or not I’d enable Cleon by becoming stronger. I certainly would never be able to stop the annihilation of everything, if I were weak.

  It was terrifying to know, with complete certainty, at least one of the paths open to me led to the annihilation of everything, and I had no idea which one this was.

  “Artemis, if you’re there, I need some guidance,” I said. I held my breath and listened for her voice. She had spoken to me on top of the walls, when I destroyed the five-block radius around her principal temple in DC.

  If she heard me, she didn’t respond.

  I finished up my shower. Leandra helped me into the formal dress Cleon had ordered me to wear this night. I stood in front of a floor length mirror, staring at myself while she went through the various jewels belonging to the treasury of the Oracles of Delphi.

  I was pale, and my eyes were haunted. I didn’t look well at all. Physically, I was tense and my muscles sore from sparring. Mentally, I was a mess. If I’d had a choice, I’d have skipped the event tonight.

  Leandra draped a pendant with a thumb-sized, teardrop diamond around my neck. I slid my feet into my favorite wedges and then strapped a knife to my thigh, beneath the dress.

  Leandra either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She was normally more concerned about how others would see me than whether or not I could defend myself. This evening, her features were taut, and she was quieter than usual.

  “No comment about my fat feet or wild hair?” I asked. I was worried – but it was my responsibility, not hers, to spend sleepless nights terrorized by the thoughts of what I’d done and what I would do. After all, I was the only person who could prevent the apocalypse.

  She lifted her gaze from the two scarves she’d laid out on the dressers at the center of my two-story, walk-in closet.

  “I can’t stop thinking about your vision,” she said.

  “That makes two of us.”

  “Yes, but I have faith you can stop it. My concern is detaching that parasite from your powers.”

  I forced a smile and smoothed out the pale yellow dress. I wanted to be the person she believed in.

  One of my mandatory escorts knocked thirty minutes before I was scheduled to be at the House. I went to the door of my bedroom reluctantly and joined the single guard sent to fetch me. Trailing him through the beautiful villa, I couldn’t help wondering how I was going to sleep tonight. Not only were the names of those I’d murdered looking down upon me, but the vision of the world ending was replaying through my head.

  As much as I didn’t want to, I kept thinking about Lantos and how he was likely the only person on the compound who might be able to help me. He did nothing for free, however, and I had nothing to offer. He ranked second only to Cleon on my list of people I despised.

  I walked with my escort across the compound to the House. Guests were already arriving, wearing designer clothing and adorned with larger diamonds than the one I wore. The crowd was larger than usual. Cleon hosted ambassadors and politicians several times a week, and rarely was a Tuesday soiree attended by more than ten people.

  By the line forming to enter the House, this gathering consisted of a hundred people, if no
t more. Now that I knew what his alleged plan was – selling safe zones – I was no longer surprised this many people wanted to meet him.

  The moment I was noticed, the movers and shakers of the world parted. Most fell quiet, while some whispered. Everyone looked. Despite the warm summer evening, I shivered, as I always did when put on display.

  I bypassed the security checkpoint and followed my escort through the bottom floor to the entertaining wing. The ballroom was bright and filled with a small army of serving staff circulating through the room with snacks and alcohol. A full bar was in one corner, and a string quartet playing softly in another.

  How could anyone pretend life was normal? How did the elite attend swanky parties, knowing the world outside the walls was in chaos, and they were in the presence of someone who had destroyed a large part of the city?

  I would never fit into this world.

  Cleon, however, was in his element. He stood in the center of the room, on a raised dais, speaking to a man in a well-tailored suit who was flanked by two assistants. Cleon rarely introduced me to anyone. I assumed my usual position behind him, off the dais, a trophy with the power of a goddess obediently standing behind her master.

  It made me despise him more.

  The people trickled into the room slowly. I never understood how they could even appear pleased to be here. Either everyone in the ballroom was bored enough to find a stuffy event like this enjoyable, or they were damned good actors. Cleon stayed on his dais, the center of attention. Most people paid homage by stepping up for a moment to meet him and speak a few words before descending to the main floor with the rest of us.

  My skin always crawled at these things, because so many people were watching me. Most appeared curious, some leery, and still others troubled, as if they weren’t pleased to see me there.

  One man in particular was staring at me from across the room. He clutched a flute of champagne too tightly to be natural, and his suit was baggy and untailored, which didn’t happen with this crowd. If not for the high level of security at the event, I would’ve been suspicious. But everyone in attendance passed through a body scanner that took x-rays to ensure no weapons were hidden anywhere. Still, I’d been trained by Herakles to pay attention to my instincts. They were warning me about this strange man with his glare.

  “Are you prepared for our demonstration?” Cleon asked, stepping down from the dais to speak to me.

  “Sure,” I replied, uninterested.

  “I want to wait until everyone is present.”

  I glanced up at him. On the surface, he wore a smile, and his eyes held genuine warmth. I never understood how he could look at me as if we were friends, when I was his prisoner. Of everyone I’d met since leaving the safety of my forest, Cleon was the one man I couldn’t figure out. That he loved power of any kind was clear, but that was all I knew with certainty. His true agenda was hidden beneath many layers and an unhealthy obsession with world domination.

  Niko appeared at the entrance briefly and scanned the partygoers before ducking out again.

  I wasn’t the only one who noticed when he left.

  The strange man shifted away from the side of the room and headed towards the dais.

  I reached for the knife at my thigh.

  A crowd of partygoers came between us, and I lost track of the man. When the people cleared, he had vanished. I searched the faces around us then lowered my hand.

  “It’s time.” Cleon ascended the dais with the confidence of a member of royalty.

  I turned to face him, morbidly curious about what he planned for his demonstration. I needed to gauge just how much of my power he could tap into, and tonight would answer that question.

  “First, I would like to give my heartfelt gratitude to those of you in attendance today. This is a very special occasion, one I chose to share with my closest friends and colleagues.”

  I rolled my eyes and tuned out, fed up with his speeches after hearing them several times a week. I didn’t believe one word he said, but the people around me were smiling. Cleon could be charismatic when he wanted to be.

  “ … especially, the Ambassador to Greece, who is rumored to manage the accounts of Her Majesty, the Silent Queen, who has inexplicably disappeared …” Cleon was saying.

  The man he addressed was tall with thick, dark hair and eyes. He smiled when Cleon motioned to him, and the crowd clapped politely. Cleon stepped down from the dais, speaking of the Ambassador’s many wonderful traits and deeds, none of which were of interest to me.

  Instead, I kept an eye out for the stranger who tripped the warning bells of my instincts. I thought I glimpsed him once through the crowd and lifted up on my tiptoes to see better. Disappointed not to spot him again, and unable to leave my assigned place without drawing Cleon’s ire, I continued searching the audience visually. I had once heard Cleon talk about someone for thirty minutes, non-stop, pouring compliments all over this person without pausing for breath. If this was another of those nights, I was going to explode from the wired energy zinging through me, leftover from my vision and fear.

  Turning to peer at the area behind me, I scoured the audience in the hopes of spotting the man who gave me the creeps. Twice more I thought I glimpsed him and made an attempt to discreetly reposition where I stood.

  Ignoring Cleon, I didn’t notice he had stopped talking, but I did see the looks of surprise crossing the faces of the crowd. What random inanimate object had he decided to bring to life then crush?

  To my surprise, Cleon stood over the Ambassador, twisting the ribbons only we could see above the man’s head. The Ambassador’s features were contorting, his face red to the point of purple, as if the life were being squeezed out of him.

  I reacted fast, or tried to. Cleon could use my power, but his handle on it appeared clumsy. He kept shifting and repositioning his hands. I started to shove his hand aside by manipulating my magic, so I could fix the ribbons he was slowly tearing.

  Someone grabbed my arm from behind. At the sensation of cold metal of a weapon at the center of my back, I froze.

  “I lost my entire family when you smashed my apartment building,” someone whispered.

  Guilt settled into my stomach.

  “I will put this knife through your spine, if you breathe wrong.”

  “And I will take off your head, if you try it,” Niko responded.

  A stir of alarm went up from those around us, and people hurried away. I was temporarily caught by the memory in my head of the night when I’d become a mass murderer. How many other people hated me enough to track me down and try to kill me?

  Could I blame them?

  “Don’t take all day, Lyssa,” Niko growled.

  Unable to see what was going on behind me, I gauged the situation. The point of a knife pricked my back, giving me the man’s placement behind me and the angle at which he was holding the weapon.

  I ducked and whirled, whipping out one leg to knock the man’s feet from beneath him and tearing the silk of my dress in the process. He dropped hard, and I straightened, knife in hand, but didn’t pounce. He had every right to be angry, and to try to attack me. I only hoped he wouldn’t end up thrown in the dungeon beneath the House for his actions. He’d suffered enough.

  Niko stood, gun in hand, behind where the man was. He smashed the man’s wrist holding the knife then reached down to flip the attacker onto his stomach. He cuffed and hauled the man up.

  Troubled by the sneak attack, I waited for the mercenary leader of the army to say something. He didn’t, and Niko shoved the attacker towards the two guards behind him.

  “Don’t hurt him,” I said quickly for Niko’s ears only. “Please.”

  The army commander glanced at me without responding.

  More murmuring erupted around me, while strange silence came from behind me. I turned to stop Cleon from murdering a man.

  Knocking his hand out of the way, I snatched the ribbons and quickly began to repair them.

  Cleon didn’t
even look at me before he hit the pain button.

  At once, agony shot through my head, blinding me and dropping me to my knees. Unable to see or help the Ambassador further, I gripped my head and waited for it to pass.

  The pain stopped. I remained on my knees, shaking, weakened by the torture.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. I am thrilled to have given you two demonstrations tonight!” Cleon announced.

  The crowd was silent.

  I lifted my head. He was messing with the Ambassador’s ribbons again.

  I reached out to undo what he was doing. If anyone died because of my power, even if Cleon committed the murder, it was my fault.

  Feeling me yank the power away from him, Cleon glanced at Niko. I braced myself, aware of what was coming.

  “It’s not your day, kid,” Niko said and then shot me with the tranq gun.

  Pain smashed into my shoulder. The effects of the tranquilizers were instant. My body became heavy and slipped out of my control. I groaned, slumping. Before I was completely unconscious, I felt Niko pick me up and walk through the crowd.

  “I’ll make sure that guy is sent to the north side of the protected zone and not downstairs,” Niko said quietly.

  I was too numb to respond. By the time we were at the front door of the House, I was sliding into unconsciousness.

  And that’s when the second vision erupted into my mind.

  Chapter Three: Silent Queen

  My hands trembled, and I lowered the bloodied knife. I stood over the corpse of a man I hadn’t wanted to kill. Eventually, the logical side of my mind would accept that, not only did my survival depend upon me killing anyone standing in the path of my goals – with my own two hands, if necessary – but it likewise meant I was going to commit other acts I’d regret, probably forever.

  Death is a political necessity. I had learned this before my seventh birthday, when the curse of the Bloodline was revealed to me. Whether one called it murder, assassination, or collateral damage was irrelevant. Death was a tool to be wielded discreetly with the same dispassionate state of mind as trade treaties or any other resolution needed to settle a diplomatic matter between two entities in disagreement about an outcome.