by Molly Ringle
She looked back for another glimpse of the helpful monster, but saw only one lazily whipping tentacle, which soon slipped away under a patch of churning sea.
“Swimming in the spirit realm,” Hermes panted. “Not recommended. Keep that in mind.”
Shivering, Hekate got to her feet with the help of Dionysos.
“Come on,” Dionysos said. “Our horses are this way. Let’s get you to the Underworld.”
On the walk to the horses, and the flight to the cave, Hekate asked them what exactly Thanatos had done. They told her about the slaughter of the mortals at the festival, and the revenge of the citizens there, but she saw they weren’t telling her everything. The uneasy glances they exchanged signaled as much.
“My parents,” she repeated. “What have they said? What have they been doing?”
“We split up to look for you,” Hermes said. “Naturally they’re distraught. Probably they’re pacing the cave and tearing their hair out.” But he sounded distracted, and gazed ahead, following the increasingly thick river of souls as they neared the Underworld.
Hekate’s strength was approaching normal by the time they landed in the entrance cavern. Her parents were here. Sensing them again warmed her through and through with relief. She ran along the tunnel with the others and crossed the river.
Then her steps faltered and stopped in the fields as a crowd of souls parted to make way for her. Before her stood Demeter, Hades, and Persephone, smiling sadly at her. They were souls.
“No!” The shriek tore itself out of her, seeming to take her own soul along with it.
She rushed to her parents, dropped to her knees, and flung her arms around their legs, but of course her arms passed through the glowing air without any contact. Her hands and forehead fell to the cool white grass at their feet. “No,” she wailed again into the ground. “What happened?”
“You fools,” Hermes raged, behind her. “How could you? I told you I would find her! I told you not to throw your lives away! You insane, stupid…” He choked on the words then and fell quiet. Hekate raised her pounding head to glance back at him, and found he had his face against his arm on a tree trunk, and was weeping. Near him, Dionysos stood staring at the three souls, pale with shock.
“We’re sorry, darling,” Persephone said, kneeling before Hekate. “Thanatos offered your life for ours. They were going to kill you if we didn’t turn ourselves in by sunset. Parents will gladly make such sacrifices.”
“Grandparents, too,” Demeter said, gazing fondly at her. “We’re so glad you’re safe, dear.”
A trade, their lives for hers. So that was what Hermes and Dionysos hadn’t wanted to tell her. Hekate looked into her mother’s sweet, familiar eyes, trying to comprehend, but burst into tears herself. She crumpled, bending over her lap, face in both hands.
Kerberos approached and sat beside her so his warm haunch pressed her leg. He lifted his head and began to howl in lament.
“My brave girl.” It was Hades’ voice this time, near her, as if he were kneeling too. She still had her face covered and couldn’t look. “We’ll be here for you. We’ll stay a long while. But you won’t need us, not really. You know so much, and you can do much more than we ever could.”
Hekate only shook her head, sobbing, unable to speak. Of course she needed them, of course she did…
A warm hand slid across her back, an arm sheltering her; someone nestled down beside her. Dionysos. She knew him through touch and sense, though barely heeded his presence. The world was shattering, and even magic for the moment had turned into whirling, dangerous chaos. Never did she imagine she would come home to a horror like this.
“It will get easier,” Persephone assured her. “It will be all right again, since you’re here.”
“It can’t ever be all right again,” Hekate choked out.
She kept weeping, surrounded by the sense of her loved ones so near, but too many of them now intangible.
Hermes recovered faster. She heard his step behind her, and his sniffle. Then he coolly stated, “I still say the three of you are all colossal idiots.”
“Perhaps this time you’re right, Hermes.” Demeter sounded mild and forgiving.
Hekate couldn’t laugh, couldn’t even lift her face. Tears had bathed her palms and were dripping down her wrists.
She had caused this. It was her fault.
“Darling,” Hades said. “Darling, listen. You can grieve, and we know you must. But you’ll have to stand strong again. Everyone needs you. Listen, I need you to remember to feed Kerberos, all right? You know how grumpy he gets if we forget. And you, Kerberos, hush. That’s enough.”
For Kerberos had been howling and whimpering throughout. At Hades’ command, he hushed to a whine.
Hekate forced a stable, shuddering breath into her lungs. She slowly lifted her hot, damp face, looked at her kind father, and nodded.
Dionysos squeezed Hekate closer against his side. Hermes, behind her, stroked her hair—still wet from the ocean. Everything had happened so fast.
“We’ll take care of her,” Dionysos said.
“She’ll take care of you two, more likely,” Persephone answered, with the pride of a mother.
Hekate was the central living Underworld goddess now. The only one. She wobbled to her feet. She sniffled and wiped her eyes. Looking at her father, mother, and grandmother, she cleared her throat and said, though her voice cracked, “The world grieves to lose you. Your murderers will not go unpunished.”
Her parents had said it to souls who came forward with accounts of being unjustly killed. Now it was her duty.
“Indeed they won’t,” Hermes said, behind her. “We’re going to make the bastards pay.”
Chapter Fifty-One
Adrian awoke in the pale morning light to find Sophie’s side of the bed empty. He rolled over to look around. She sat at the kitchen table in the Airstream, a blanket around her, her face turned toward the window. Kiri lay curled at her feet.
He got out of bed and approached. “Hey.”
She glanced at him and his heart constricted. Tears shone on her cheeks and reddened her eyes and nostrils. “Hey,” she said, in a strained squeak. “Look. It snowed.”
He swiftly checked out the view: indeed, the outside world had put on a layer of white, beneath quiet gray clouds. “Wow, look at that. Um. You okay?”
She planted her elbows on the table, leaning her eyes against the heels of her hands. “You said it wasn’t so bad. You said it could be worse. How could you say that?”
Of course. As he dreaded, she had finally reached those memories. He slid onto the padded bench beside her and hugged her. “Well. It could have been. At least we were together. At least Hekate survived.”
“It was terrible! Her finding us…and K-Kerberos…” Her mouth twisted in fighting another bout of crying, and she looked away from him, out the window. She drew in a hitching breath. “And I have to take a final today. How am I supposed to do that?”
Adrian leaned his cheek on the blanket over her shoulder, the wool catching against his morning stubble. He inhaled the wafts of warmer air rising from her neck. Below the table he found Kiri’s furry side, and wriggled his toes under it. With his gaze upon the snowy ground outside, he spoke softly.
“When I first got to that memory, it was in a dream. I was fully asleep. So it felt more vivid, as real as the memories ever feel. You’re right, it was horrible. I dreamed it all the way to Hekate and Kerberos grieving at our feet. Then I woke up. I was still paraplegic at the time, at home with Dad. It was almost dawn. I was on my back in bed, as usual. Could only move the upper half of my body.”
Sophie sniffled, holding still, listening with her gaze cast down.
He pulled his foot from under Kiri and stroked the dog’s back with it. “I sort of gasped like I was drowning,” he went on. “Kiri slept in my room with me, and when she heard me she got up and came over to see what I needed. She always did that if I woke up. I leaned over and hugged her and
…just started crying into her fur.” Though he felt a bit silly about confessing it, a lump formed in his throat at the memory.
Sophie leaned her head against his. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“I’m not. It’s true. I was quite pathetic.”
“How’d you get through the rest of your day?”
“Did the things I had to do. Tried to remember it was ancient history and we’d been given a second chance now. Still…” He nestled his arms more snugly around her. “I wished I could go see you. I went straight to your blog, hoping you’d put up a new post, and luckily you had.”
She lifted her reddened eyes to him, a hint of curiosity in them. “What was it about?”
“Kumquats,” he said. “And the season finale of ‘Nightshade.’” He had watched that show too. Her face softened with a smile, and he added, “I commented extensively upon both.”
She turned so her forehead rested on his cheek. “I remember.”
“Also,” he said, “I had Zoe come over so I could hug her.”
“I want to hug her too.”
“She does as well. She just got to those memories the other day. I would’ve told you, but…”
“But then you’d have had to tell me how it ended.”
“Right,” he said.
“God,” she groaned suddenly. “My chem final. I just cannot.”
“Yes you can.” He kissed her eyelid. “You’ll get out there in that snow and you’ll be fab.”
“It’ll do.” Betty Quentin looked around inside the small, secluded house. “Hard to get to, hard to find, not a neighbor for a mile or more. Handy having people in the group who own cabins, isn’t it.”
Landon smiled through his shivers. All three of them were cold, despite their coats and scarves. The old house hadn’t been occupied for months, and the baseboard heat was taking a while to warm up. But it truly was ideal: less than an hour from Carnation, out in the labyrinth of Forest Service roads that snaked all over the Cascades and foothills. Nothing but huge trees, muddy creeks, and the cries of eagles out here.
Krystal glanced out the window with a smile of triumph. “And that fire pit outside is nice and big. We can build a good hot fire and throw in whatever we need to.”
The young woman’s bloodthirst spread to Betty with a dark thrill. “If it comes to that, indeed we will.” Betty rubbed her chilled hands together, smiling. “Feels good to be setting things in motion. So. This fellow you’ve found in Seattle, he’s ready?”
Landon and Krystal glanced at each other and nodded. “He’s an untested commodity,” Landon said. “Only Krystal’s met him in person, and we suspect he’s a little…” He looped his finger by his temple.
“They often are, if they’re willing to take on this work,” Betty remarked.
“But he’s focused,” Krystal said. “And he keeps the details straight. So I think we should give him the go-ahead.”
“This Tabitha does seem to be doing an awful lot,” Landon said. “If her posts are any indication. Money and fame everywhere suddenly. A new car yesterday—an expensive one. She posted pictures. And she’s still friends with Sophie. There are comments between them; ‘likes’ and that kind of thing.”
“More and more likely.” Betty nodded. “Then tell this fellow not to hold back. We might as well make our intent clear to Sophie and Adrian.”
“It’ll be pretty clear after we hit the farmhouse.” Krystal caressed the gun in her holster.
“Then this will help make it extra clear,” Betty said.
Sophie was not fab at her chem final. Tired and achy-eyed, she couldn’t remember electron configurations or molecule shapes, forgot everything she knew about ionization energy, and was almost sure she screwed up basic math on calculating percentages and pressures. At the end of the two hours, she turned in the barely-finished stack of torturous questions and her Scantron form, and plodded out of the crowded, quiet lecture hall. She didn’t even know anymore which part of life was making her more miserable: finals week or the memories.
Waiting for her outside the building, flinging snowballs at each other, were Adrian and Zoe.
Surprised pleasure washed through Sophie.
“There she is,” Zoe greeted.
Sophie hurried through the slush to meet her, and hugged her.
“Goddess, how much did those memories hurt, right?” Zoe asked.
“Right.” Sophie sighed. “Thanks for coming.”
Adrian tossed a snowball up and down in his bare hand, as if waiting for a good opportunity to pelt Zoe with it. The evidence of their battle stood all around in smashed dots of snow against walls, benches, and tree trunks, not to mention each other’s coats. “Way to be inconspicuous, you guys,” Sophie said.
“We are,” Adrian defended. “This is exactly what everyone’s doing out here today.”
“We blend in,” Zoe agreed.
“So you came to help find our enemies?” Sophie asked as they crossed the campus street.
“Yeah. I was hoping to use magic, but…” Zoe flicked a line of snow off a mailbox—without her fingers actually touching it, Sophie noticed. “We don’t have anything belonging to Quentin, as far as we know. And we don’t know who’s with her. So I can’t trace them unless I think of some other way. Still, I can look round, do some research, be a spy, the way Freya and Niko are.”
“And you can give us good luck, right?” Sophie asked hopefully. “Like on finals, too?”
Zoe grinned at her and placed a cold fingertip on Sophie’s forehead as they walked. “Zap. There. You’re smarter.”
Strangely, Sophie did feel a boost of mental acuity, like instant-acting coffee. “Dang. Wish I’d done that before the test.”
“Have any more exams?”
“Yeah, one tomorrow.”
“We’ll do it before that.”
“Thanks.” Sophie smiled, but looked down at her hiking boots, which weren’t keeping her feet quite warm enough on the slushy sidewalk. She felt deeply inadequate, accepting magical protection time and again from these awesome immortals, while she had nothing to give them in return. Unless love counted.
“Your job is to rock your exams,” Zoe said. “You do that, and let us worry about the nasties.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Zoe’s confident words to Sophie were a false show. Everything worried or irritated her lately. She had managed to get a week off work, and her parents were covering for her, saying she was visiting friends in Auckland, while in truth she hopped over the Pacific Ocean to help the immortals protect each other and the Darrow family.
Said immortal friends placed a lot of trust and reliance upon Zoe and her magical talents. Way too much, she kept reminding them, though she didn’t wish to alarm them. But the truth was, her protection spells weren’t bulletproof (as Sophie had put it) and couldn’t protect everyone all the time. She hadn’t yet figured out a way to divine where the creeps were lurking or who exactly they were, other than Quentin, nor when they’d strike. Realistically, she was down to the same skills as her friends: strength, speed, vigilance, and computer snooping. And in the event of an attack, she could use magic—assuming she was present or at least aware of the attack. Which she couldn’t assume she would be.
So Zoe worried. And in addition to that, Zoe fumed. Tabitha had got to the dreadful memory of the kidnapping and the deaths of Hades, Persephone, and Demeter. Zoe asked her if she’d got there in a text this morning, unable to curb her impatience, and the little twit had answered simply, Yeah. Dude, that sucked.
That was it? End of evaluation? Tabitha owed the situation rather more analysis than that. And, if Zoe was being honest, she felt Tab also owed her a bit more explanation. Zoe didn’t know if she and Tab were dating or ever had been, in Tab’s view. She was guessing not. But why did Tab offer no comment upon it whatsoever?
She was going to find that blonde Yank, and they were going to have it out.
And if Freya was hanging about, so
much the better, because Zoe had a choice word or two for her as well.
I’m not going to freaking cry about something that happened three thousand years ago, Tabitha reminded herself over her second giant mug of coffee in a 24-hour Chinese restaurant and diner near the college. I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.
She had successfully avoided doing so for the last few days and nights, distracting herself with a nicely full schedule. The Luigis were still in town, doing a couple more gigs, and she’d gotten to hang out with them again last night. Today she turned in a take-home final and showed up to do a final performance in voice, but she knew she’d been half-assed—even quarter-assed, honestly—about all of that. Hell, with everything going on in her life, she patted herself on the back for still remaining in college and showing up at all.
Now she was officially off for winter break, but didn’t want to go back to Carnation. Her mom was sure to depress her, drinking herself to sleep at night, stumbling around to get to work on time every morning, berating Tabitha for not helping around the house more. Hanging out with her dad and the over-perfumed Jamie was out of the question too. No, Tab chose to stay in sparkly Seattle, thanks. This year she was old enough to make that choice, and had the money. So much money. It was kind of ridiculous.
She treated herself to a suite on the nineteenth floor of the Miraldo, one of the city’s swankiest hotels. Way better than hanging out in the ugly old dorms over Christmas. With the suite plus all her new clothes and her new Jaguar, she ought to be bursting with happiness.
Instead she was moping by herself in a dim, windowless restaurant, surrounded by lurid red wallpaper and tasseled lanterns.
The feel of Zoe approaching startled her. She lifted her head. Sure enough, in a few seconds Zoe’s tall, slim, shaggy-haired figure stalked into the restaurant foyer and veered into the dining room.
“Hey.” Zoe wriggled out of her parka, threw it over the back of the leather chair opposite Tabitha, and seated herself. “How’s the coffee here? I could use a warm drink.” She plucked a menu from between the soy sauce and salt shaker.
