Something True (15 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY

True

I shoved open the gate at the side of our house on Sunday afternoon after my shift, sick to death of crying, sick to death of living in fear of Artemis and Apollo and their whims. Apollo couldn’t just walk into Goddess and threaten Orion’s life. This game was officially on.

Looking up at the clear blue sky, I stepped to the center of the small, square yard.

“Ares, mighty God of War, I beseech thee, come to me in my time of need.”

A fierce wind whipped through the trees, sending orange and brown leaves swirling toward the sky, and Father appeared before me. He wore a brown sleeveless shirt, black pants, and black boots and was covered with smears of blood and inky tar. Sand clung to every bit of exposed skin and had settled into the folds of his clothes.

“That was fast,” I said. “Where were you?”

“The desert. Always the desert these days.” He dusted his arms off and sucked in a breath, his nostrils wide. “What am I doing here?”

“Harmonia told me that Hera has no intention of allowing me or Artemis to return to Mount Olympus,” I said, stepping closer to him.

“It’s true. She fears you, Eros. I told you this. She fears your growing powers. Yours and those of Artemis,” he said succinctly. “She thinks the fact that you regained your powers even while banished to Earth might mean that you’re on your way to becoming an upper goddess.”

I lost my breath, nearly doubling over at the waist. “What? Is that even possible?”

My father turned up his meaty palms. “All things are possible. You know that. The queen does not take kindly to pretenders to her throne. She might be able to keep you in check while you’re banished to Earth, but back on Mount Olympus, you’ll be at full strength.”

My mind reeled. An upper goddess? I had never dreamed . . . Well, okay, I had dreamed, but that was all, because as far as I knew, no one had ever ascended from one caste to the next. To be an upper goddess . . . that was a lot of power. Did I even want that much power?

No. There was no lust for more authority or clout within me. My job, my calling, was to create and nurture love.

“I have no desire to take the queen’s throne,” I told my father. “I only wish to return to my rightful place among the gods. I am no threat to her.”

“Of course you’re not,” my father replied. “You have a pure soul. You’d never rise up against the upper gods, because you do not crave power. You crave love. Artemis, on the other hand . . .”

“So why not blame
her
? Why not simply smite
her
?” I asked, pacing angrily, moodily, toward the almost bare magnolia tree. “What do I have to do with anything?”

“I know your true soul, my daughter, but Hera does not,” my father said, wiping his palms quickly against his backside. “Hera believes, and has always believed, that everyone is out to get her. The very idea that two lesser goddesses might one day wield enough power to overtake her position as queen . . . she can’t abide that.”

I plucked a curled red leaf from a tiny, shivering branch and held its stem between my thumb and forefinger. It looked like a small, withered heart.

“Will Zeus still return Orion’s memory if I succeed in my original mission?” I asked.

“I believe he will,” my father said. “He doesn’t like Hera’s posturing, but he seems willing to let her have her way with you and Artemis. Happy wife, happy life, you know. Also, he doesn’t relish your growing power any more than she does.”

I shook my head. Power. It was always about power with these upper gods.

“Should you succeed, however, I’m sure he’ll return your mortal to you,” he continued. “If only to save face.”

My jaw clenched in determination. “Then I must win.”

My father’s eyes widened. “Are you telling me you’re ready to do battle?”

“Apollo has threatened Orion’s life,” I told him.

Ares laughed. “Of course. When it’s your existence on the line, you don’t care, but as soon as that mortal is threatened—”

“I love him!” I shouted, throwing the leaf to the wind.

“It’s rather shortsighted to be more worried about him than yourself,” my father spat. “He’ll be dead in a mere seventy years now that you’ve rescued him from the stars. You have an eternal purpose to fulfill.”

He wasn’t wrong. But whenever I pictured Orion’s face, my purpose didn’t matter.

“I
will
kill Artemis if it is the only way for me and Orion to be together,” I told my father. “He is the only thing that truly matters to me. Even if I must be made mortal and banished to Earth to have him.”

My father shook his head, rolling his eyes at what he perceived to be my weakness. I squared my shoulders and stood before him, straightening myself to my full height.

“Father . . . even if you don’t agree with my motives . . . I want you to teach me to fight.”

His eyebrows darted up, and a spark of intrigue lit his eyes. Instantly his entire posture relaxed, and he did something I’d only rarely seen him do. He smiled.

“Finally.”

*    *    *

An hour later, my muscles were shaking, I had a cut above my lip that refused to stop bleeding, and I couldn’t feel my toes. That had to be a bad sign. I bent over the bench in the rear corner of our yard, clinging to my ribs, trying to keep them inside my body, as I was sure they were cracked and about to poke their way through my skin.

“Mercy!” I shouted, holding up a hand as my father advanced. I turned around and sat.

“Do you know who’ll show no mercy?” my father said. “Artemis. She’ll gut you where you sit.”

“I just need a five-minute break,” I told him, my hair dripping salty liquid onto my sneakers.

“No. You need to concentrate, Eros,” my father said, backing up with his feet switching front to back, front to back, like a true boxer. “You’re not blocking.”

I shoved myself up. “You’re punching too fast.”

His fists dropped. “Do you have any idea how much I’m holding back?” He squatted in front of me, hardly winded. “Listen to me. Artemis is not as experienced a fighter as I am. You need to watch her eyes. If you see where she’s looking, you can anticipate her next move. Now try.”

I took a deep breath, which hurt like hell, and stood up with raised fists. A drip of blood tickled my top lip, and I licked it away. I stared into my father’s eyes. They darted to the left side of my face. I reached up and blocked his punch.

“There! You see?”

I smiled slightly. “Okay. Try it again.”

He blinked and went for my gut. I jumped back, then lunged forward and threw an uppercut. My father leaned away from it, but I still caught the very tip of his chin. I heard the satisfying clack as his bottom teeth met his uppers.

“Very good!” he cried with a grin.

Then he threw a right hook. I blocked it. He tried a body blow and I blocked most of that, too, though he caught my ribs again. I reeled away, coughing, which only made the pain worse. My father stood up straight and dropped his arms.

“Perhaps we should stop. I don’t want you to be injured if Artemis happens to change your timeline on a whim. You need to be in top form.”

“You want to stop now? Just when I’m getting it? Besides, you can simply heal me when we’re done here.”

He tilted his head. “Excellent point.”

Ignoring the pain as best I could, I darted forward, throwing an elbow at his face, which he easily deflected. He pushed me off him and hit me with a three-punch combination, but caught only the sides of my forearms. I reached back and threw the quickest, hardest punch I had within me, right at his face. It hit home, and his chin darted skyward. He staggered back. I brought my hands to my mouth and held my breath.

“Father? I’m sorry! I didn’t think that would work!”

He caught himself before going down and shook his head as if to clear his vision. When his eyes met mine again, I saw the dazed pride behind them, and my heart swelled ten sizes, healing my bruised ribs.

“My daughter,” he said, rubbing his cheekbone. “I think you’re ready.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Orion

I waited for True by her locker Monday morning. A huge black-and-white picture of me and Darla stared me down from a homecoming poster across the hall. I’d talked to Darla quickly last night, claiming I still felt sick. Which was not a total lie. There was clearly something wrong with me. Saturday night I’d promised myself to commit to Darla, but as soon as I’d laid eyes on True on Sunday, I couldn’t stop myself from talking to her. Telling her I had feelings for her. It was like I couldn’t control myself.

There was no more denying it. I sucked.

But even though I knew that, I couldn’t stop thinking about True, especially after the way that asshole had confronted her at Goddess yesterday. What the hell did he mean when he said he didn’t understand what they saw in me? Why did him and that girl act like they knew me? And what the hell had he said to True to make her run from me like that?

Darla’s sparkling eyes bored a hole through my chest. I turned away from the poster as True came around the corner.

She was wearing jeans and a plain black T-shirt with a wide neck, her hair pulled back from her face, which was pale and dry-looking. The second she saw me, she froze, and when I approached, she started looking around for an escape route.

“Hey,” I said. “You’re okay.”

She cleared her throat. “Yeah. Yes, I’m fine. You?”

“I’m fine.”

“Good.”

She stepped around me to get to her locker and turned the knob with trembling fingers. I saw a couple of sophomore girls watching us and trying to pretend like they weren’t.

“True, what the hell is going on?” I said under my breath, leaning into the locker next to hers. “What did that guy say to you yesterday? Did he threaten you?”

She let out this sound through her nose that was half snort, half laugh. “No. He didn’t do that.”

There was a loud slam down the hall, and she flinched. She was acting scared, and she looked . . . haunted. My heart began to pound.

“Did he hurt you?” I hissed. “True. You have to call the police.”

“The police can’t do anything, Orion.” She took out a couple of books and held them against her chest.

“Why not? They helped you once before, right? Maybe they can do it again.”

I reached for her wrist, but True angled away from me. “Don’t touch me!” she said through her teeth.

I was going to explode from frustration. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

True took a deep breath and blew it out. “Just leave me alone, Orion. Please.”

“What?” I felt as if I’d woken up in some alternate reality. Two days ago she’d been begging me to admit my feelings for her and
I’d
been telling
her
not to touch
me
. “True, this is insane. I thought that you—”

“No,” she said firmly, setting her chin. “Whatever you thought, it’s over. You were right. You have a girlfriend, and she doesn’t deserve this.” Her chin quivered, but this time, she held my gaze. I felt the sting of her words and tried not to look away. “So please, from now on, just stay away from me.”

She slammed her locker so hard I felt the reverberations inside my chest. I reached for her arm again as she strode by me, but she hugged it against her. And that was it. No further explanation. No discussion. She was just fine leaving it at that. Leaving me totally and mind-bendingly confused.

What the hell had happened in two days to make her do a complete one-eighty?

“True, wait,” I said loudly.

“Leave me alone!” she shouted back.

Then she ducked into the science wing and was gone.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

True

As I came around the corner, Orion still calling my name, my eyes blurred so badly I couldn’t see straight. Suddenly Hephaestus appeared in front of me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I have to hide.”

A door behind him opened and a rotund janitor stepped out, moseying off toward the back of the school. Hephaestus caught the door before it could close.

“In here,” he hissed.

We both ducked inside.

“Thank you,” I whispered, as the door closed. “I couldn’t let Orion catch up to me.”

Hephaestus nodded his understanding. Artemis and Apollo were banned from the school, of course, but I couldn’t take the chance that Apollo would somehow find out Orion and I were still talking. I pressed myself back against a shelf full of industrial cleaner and held my breath. After a few minutes had passed, my body relaxed. The coast seemed to be clear.

“Are you okay?” Hephaestus asked.

“No!” I blurted. I had thought I could control my feelings, but apparently not. “No, I am not all right. Everything is against me. Every
one
! Zeus claims that he wants me to succeed but sends Orion here to distract me. Apollo would take any excuse to kill Orion. Artemis wants me dead. Hera wants me dead and sends my own sister to tell me. Just about the only person willing to help at this point is my father! How have I come to this?”

“I’m still here,” Hephaestus told me patiently.

I took a deep breath and shot him a sorrowful look. Out of steam, I sank to the floor, bringing my knees up under my chin. “Of course. You are still here. I’m sorry.”

He lifted his shoulders. “It’s all right. If you’ve gotta have a breakdown, have a breakdown. As long as you pull yourself back up again.”

“He was just coming around,” I muttered, staring at the brown, mucky water in the yellow mop bucket next to me. “He was going to tell me he wanted to be with me yesterday. I’m sure of it.”

“You’re missing the bigger picture here,” Hephaestus said, folding his hands in his lap. “This Orion is not your Orion, remember? You want your Orion back. And the only way to get him is to match your last couple.”

“Is it so wrong to want this Orion to love me in the meantime?” I asked, my voice a pathetic whimper. “I just want him back, Hephaestus. I just want him back.”

“No. It’s not wrong,” Hephaestus said. “But from an outsider’s perspective . . . it kind of seems like a waste of time.”

I stared at the wheels on Hephaestus’s chair, the chrome gleaming even in the relative darkness.

“You’re right,” I said with a sigh, pressing my chin into my kneecap. “Are you always right?”

He pretended to ponder this. “Mostly.”

I laughed, and he reached out a hand to help me to my feet. I shoved my sweaty palms down my thighs and grabbed my bag, which had ended up in the corner with a stack of paper towel rolls.

“Focus on Wallace and Darla,” Hephaestus instructed. “On forming the true love you were sent here to inspire. You’ll feel better if you’re being productive.”

“Thanks, Hephaestus,” I said, squeezing his hand as the first bell rang. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”