Goddess (26 page)

“Where is it written that the Tyrant has to take Hades’ place?” Matt asked, his voice frighteningly calm. “The three major gods are supposed to be replaced by three Scions—that we know from prophecy. We’ve always assumed that the Tyrant would rule Hades, but the Tyrant could as easily rule the sky.”

Daphne paused. All the vigor went out of her argument, and a fearful look crossed her face. “I’m sorry,” Daphne whispered to Helen, her cheeks pale.

“It’s okay, Mom. I’ve suspected this for a few days now. Born to bitterness?” Helen asked, not unkindly reminding her mother of the prophecy. “Is there anyone in the world more bitter than you?”

“No. You don’t understand,” Daphne continued, and then stopped when Helen stepped forward and dared to tread on the line in the sand that had formed between the two sides.

“Matt’s right. I’m the Tyrant. Or I’m supposed to be, if the Fates have their way. But you’ve got to trust me. I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“I know you’ll try,” Matt said, and sighed heavily. “You’ll mean to do only good things with your powers, and in the beginning, you’ll right wrongs and defend the weak. I know you will. But it has to go sour eventually. No one person, no matter how well-intentioned, is meant to rule the world.”

Helen could see the electric change in him that she’d noticed before, that thing that made him more than just Matt. He was different, stronger, and full of strange magic, but even still, Helen knew he was making all the same choices he would have a year ago. He was still Matt—a true moral compass—and, as usual, he was right.

“You’ve always hated bullies. And I guess I’m the biggest bully on the block now, huh?” Helen said with a fond smile. Matt smiled with her. Neither of them wanted this to happen.

“Everybody hang on,” Claire said anxiously, rushing to stand between the factions like she could think up a bridge between the two. “Lennie—maybe there’s a way you can give some of these powers back? Is there something you can do to, I don’t know, just be
you
again so we don’t have to freak out?”

“Sorry, Gig,” Helen replied, knowing that she was hurting her best friend more than she ever had before. “This
is
me. It always has been.”

Claire’s eyes filled with tears. But no matter how much she loved all of the people standing on the other side of the imaginary wall that was building between the two factions, Helen knew that Claire was going to do what she thought was right.

When she took her place again behind Matt, Helen didn’t blame her. In fact, she admired Claire for her strength and bravery even though it stung like crazy.

Helen wished she could shout out her plan, tell her friends and family why she was doing this, but she couldn’t. The Fates might not be able to hear her while she was with Orion, but Zeus certainly could, and while the Fates might be her ultimate enemy, Zeus was the one she had to find a way to imprison. Until she did that, Helen couldn’t give back an ounce of power or she knew she wouldn’t be strong enough to fight him. And then Zeus would find a way to kill every last one of them.

Like Helen of Troy before her, Helen Hamilton knew that she’d happily play the bad guy and make everyone hate her, before she’d allow all the people she loved to die. She remembered Ariadne telling her once that for a Scion to name her daughter Helen was like a Christian naming her child Judas. Like all the other Helens before her, Helen Hamilton had decided that being Judas to her family was worth it—so long as they survived.

“I’m sorry, Claire,” she said, trying in vain to do a mind-meld with her friend and get her to understand without saying anything. “But I’m not giving up my powers.”

“And that’s that,” Matt said, truly saddened. “She won’t ever be our ‘Lennie’ again, Claire. She’s made her choice—power over us.”

Matt angled his head over his shoulder and made an inhuman chittering noise. Helen recognized it. Automedon had used it to command his men when he attacked Helen, Hector, and Claire in the woods outside a track meet.

The Myrmidons reacted to Matt’s command by backing up and forming a semicircle on their side of the “wall.” One of them moved forward and retrieved Phaon’s body, and a second group came forward and swept the sand clean. They were as efficient as an army of ants, and within seconds a new battleground had been cleared inside the makeshift arena on the beach.

An offering was brought into the circle. A pumpkin.

“What’s going on?” Helen said to Orion, as memories of cooking with her father, turning pumpkins into pancakes, pie, and Popsicles crowded into her mind.

“It’s one of her symbols. Hecate’s power covers a lot of different things,” he whispered in answer to her half-formed question. “Portals, crossroads, boundaries, trade, and bargains are the big ones, which is why she officiates over duels, which are sort of a bargain if you think about it. But she’s also the witch goddess. Something about Macbeth and bargaining your soul. The pumpkin is one of her symbols because she’s the first witch.”

Helen stared at that silly pumpkin, quite certain that the Fates were laughing their heads off at her. She loved pumpkins. Of all the many-life memories that Helen had recently been subjected to, the memories that she made on Nantucket were her favorites. Jerry had given her the best life she’d had in all of her many existences. Daphne had been right when she’d said Helen should thank her for making her think that Jerry was her father.

One look at that blasted pumpkin, and she knew that she’d trade all this Scion nonsense, all of her wondrous powers, for one more night of baseball and ice cream with her dad. Just one night where Lucas could come over for some pasta, eat awkwardly in front of her overprotective father, and then they could all watch sports and argue about politics like everyone else in Massachusetts. But that perfect night would never happen.

Helen would never be a normal high school kid again.

A bright flash, and a strange orange fire erupted around the boundaries of the arena. Hecate didn’t reappear, but her presence was manifest in the hum of power that encircled the ring. The pumpkin disappeared. The fire went out. The challenge was set.

The crowd behind Helen whispered frantically to one another. Thunderclouds rolled in off the water, and lightning flashed in the distance. Zeus and the Olympians arranged themselves to have the best view. They were enjoying this.

Helen tried to step into the arena and found that she couldn’t. Orange fire flashed. A regular person would have been burned by it, but it only threw Helen back a few paces. Matt walked easily into his spot, ten feet away from the line in the sand at the middle of the cleared oval. He unsheathed his sword, a thick, wicked-looking thing that made Helen’s breathing pick up. She tried again to enter the circle, only to find an invisible barrier stopping her. Helen tried to use her talent to create a portal to get inside the ring, but nothing happened. Hecate could even bar a Worldbuilder from crossing a boundary if she wanted to. Helen paused to mull this over.

“What are you doing, dummy?” Hector asked her, half a laugh in his voice. As she had been reminiscing about pumpkin pancakes and contemplating the power of Hecate, Lucas, Jason, and Orion had been busy strapping armor onto Hector piece by piece in what looked to her like a ritual.

“What do you mean, what am I doing?” Helen asked—irked as usual when Hector made fun of her. “He doesn’t want to fight you, he said he only wants me.”

Hector only laughed harder at her melodramatic tone. “You’re not about to steal my glory, Princess.”

She really hated it when he called her that.

“
Don’t
call me . . .”

“He’s your champion, Helen!” Lucas snapped, and his tone was not playful like Hector’s.

Helen looked at Lucas. The fear and frustration in his eyes silenced her immediately. She knew Lucas was upset with her for not handing over Everyland when Zeus asked for it. She wanted to scream at him that she had a
plan
, damn it, but of course, she didn’t dare do that.

“You took an oath, and for us, those aren’t just words,” Lucas continued. “You
cannot
walk into that arena. Only Hector can meet your challenger now.”

“W-wait,” Helen said stumblingly, her tongue growing heavy in her mouth with fear as the first part of her plan came undone. “Matt said he doesn’t want Hector, he only wants me. So this is my fight.”

“No it isn’t,” Hector said seriously. All his lighthearted joking vanished, and Helen could hear the voice of an ancient hero in him.

For a moment she saw Hector standing on a great wall, watching Achilles half insane with grief over the death of Patroclus, beating the horses of his chariot raw while calling out Hector’s name to meet him in single combat. Matt didn’t look like Achilles, but he had the same presence, the same power. She didn’t know how it had happened, but somehow, Matt had become Achilles, the Warrior.

“This has always been my fight,” Hector said gently.

“Don’t do it,” she whispered, her voice failing as she remembered what happened the last time.

“Don’t do it!” echoed another, much more strident voice.

Helen turned and saw Andy pushing her way through the disturbed crowd. Her face was shocked, like she couldn’t believe what she was saying and doing, but couldn’t seem to stop herself.

Andy made her way through the commotion and stood inches away from Hector, begging him with her eyes. “Don’t fight him.”

“Tempting,” he said, smiling down on her lovely and totally confused face. “But who would I be if I didn’t? Not myself, that’s for sure. You know I have to do this, Andy.”

“I love you,” she blurted out, completely horrified that she was saying something so sappy in front of a huge crowd like this.

“Well, it’s about time,” Hector replied sarcastically.

For a second, it looked like Andy was going to punch him, so Hector did the wise thing and kissed her. When he finally pulled away he did so reluctantly.

“Hold that thought?” he asked her, his eyes vulnerable. Andy nodded slowly and released him.

Hector turned to Lucas, Jason, and Orion, holding out his hand for his sword. Lucas handed it to him, his face darkened with frustration. Embracing his brothers one by one, Hector walked into the ring alone.

Helen went to Lucas, pleading in a low voice. “Is there anything we can do to stop this? Think, Lucas.”

“Nothing. Only one of them can leave that ring alive,” he replied angrily. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

She didn’t. Helen had no idea if her plan would work. The only thing she knew was that she had to try to change things, and sticking close to her Shield while she thought it out was the only chance she had. Helen backed up until she was leaning against Orion to brace herself. Lucas swallowed hard and looked away.

“He’s hurt,” Orion whispered in her ear. “He thinks you’re choosing me over him.”

Helen knew this. She also knew that every second she hung on Orion hurt Lucas more and more. But there was nothing she could do about it right then.

“Just help me come up with a way to save Hector,” Helen whispered back.

“I can’t,” Orion replied. He wrapped his arms around Helen and squeezed, more to comfort himself than her. She stayed near him, hoping that not only was she protected from the Fates by Orion’s presence, but that Hector was as well.

“It could be different this time,” she said, feeling optimistic as she watched Hector and Matt face off. She lowered her voice to the softest of whispers and pressed her lips to Orion’s ear to make sure the gods didn’t hear. “With you around, the Fates can’t use him.”

Orion nodded, and when he pulled back and looked at Helen there was cautious optimism in his eyes.

The first blows came so fast Helen could barely see them. Even though Helen had fought Hector many times, and even though he’d trained her from day one, she still couldn’t believe that such a big guy could move so gracefully and so swiftly.

But this new, supercharged Matt was just as fast. He parried Hector’s blinding strokes, twisted, and maintained his balance even though his adversary tried to use his larger size to press in and intensify the angle. Instead of getting trapped under Hector’s rain of downward strokes, Matt was able to make space between them without losing his footing on the sand.

Helen felt Lucas, Orion, and Jason all inhale sharply when they saw Matt dart in and draw first blood.

“Hector!” Ariadne cried out.

Hector backed away from Matt, dropping the point of his sword and touching his ribs. His hand came back red. He looked across the arena at his sister and his father who stood with Tantalus. They had sided against him.

As soon as Hector looked at her, Ariadne ran to the edge of the circle, nearly dancing on her toes along the magically sealed rim, like she was trying to throw herself into it and stop this fight. Hector smiled at his sister.

“It’s okay, Ari,” he said, forgiving her. “I understand.”

Hector faced Matt again grimly, aware now that he had met his match. He didn’t waste any time, feinting and spinning past Matt, and slashing downward at Matt’s heel as he spun away. Blood flowed freely from Matt’s Achilles heel, but he didn’t die. He limped away from Hector and took up position on the other side of the arena.

“Wrong heel, my friend,” Matt said sympathetically as the wound closed immediately.

“It was worth a shot,” Hector replied with a shrug, and then he pressed in again with reckless abandon.

Scions healed quickly, but for Matt it only took seconds for his skin to seal back up like nothing had happened. After seeing that, Hector knew his only shot at beating Matt was to find his one weakness. Matt had to have one. He had to be at least partially mortal or Hecate wouldn’t have allowed him to take part in this fight, but there were a lot of body parts to choose from. Hector tried the other heel first, but Matt only recovered faster this time.

“Cut his head off!” Daphne yelled, her eyes wide with fear for Hector now that stabbing both Achilles heels hadn’t worked.

“His heart! Hit his heart!” Orion shouted after her.

As soon as these first two ideas were offered, the Scions on Helen’s side began calling out suggestions in a flurry of voices. Hector fought on, stabbing at Matt’s heart, liver, and even trying to cut off his head, but none of these turned out to be right. Matt would feel the injury but heal immediately, and all the while Hector was getting wounded and not healing as quickly. With each furious exchange, Hector was the one who grew weaker.