Sweet Legacy
Page 42
Thane lifts his dark eyes to study me.
Next to him, Greer scowls. I’m not sure if it’s an I-was-wondering-the-same-thing scowl or a why-are-you-accusing-my-boy scowl. I don’t care either way.
“Grace is my sister,” Thane says slowly.
“She’s my sister, too,” I reply, “and my first job is to protect her. Now”—I level my fiercest huntress glare at him, pulling my hypno powers to the front of the class—“tell me who you are.”
I watch his eyes carefully, looking for signs that he’s as immune to my Medusa eyes as Nick. But, to my shock, his eyes grow unfocused.
“Who are you?” I ask.
He replies, “Thane Whitfield.”
“Why are you fighting in this war?”
“For Grace,” he says, his voice hollow and distant. “For Greer.”
Greer looks from me to Thane and back again. “Satisfied?”
I shrug. Not entirely, but at least that’s one thing off the list. Thane has no mythological blood. He’s just a truly amazing human fighter.
Well, I can’t be right all the time.
I pull out my phone and try texting Grace again.
That’s two unanswered phone calls and twice as many text messages since we reached the safe house. Nick isn’t responding, either. They were supposed to find our mother and meet back here. I hope it’s only a matter of a bad signal or taking longer to locate Cassandra than Grace guessed, and not that they’ve run into trouble looking for her. Much longer and I’m going to go looking for them.
“Huntress no answer huntress?” Sillus asks.
I give him a sideways glance. “Not yet.”
“Huntress will,” he says. “Huntress always okay.”
I pat him on the shoulder. I hope he’s right.
“What about the Bacchanalia?” Ursula glances at her sister. “Perhaps an out-of-body experience is enough to disconnect her.”
“And just where do you think we’ll find a dozen Dionysian goats?” Sthenno replies. “Or a trio of innocent maidens, for that matter?”
“Enough!” I blurt.
I am so sick of this back-and-forth of bad ideas and ridiculous suggestions. Dionysian goats? Seriously? It’s time we come up with a practical solution. The protective mojo on the safe house won’t last forever, and I want Greer safe before it runs out.
“We think Apollo is on the side with Zeus, right? The side that wants us dead before we can open the door, right?” I ask.
The gorgons exchange a look.
“We are certain,” Ursula says. “He was among those who held us captive on Olympus.”
“Along with Zeus, Hera, and more than half of the Olympians,” Sthenno adds.
“Why didn’t one of the others set you free?” Greer asks. “We have Olympians on our side, too, right?”
“We do,” Ursula answers, “though not many.”
Sthenno says, “They could not have aided us without the risk of exposing themselves. For many, secrecy is their only protection.”
“We need them in place,” Ursula explains. “When the time comes, you will need their help more than we ever did.”
That seems to appease Greer’s curiosity, because she sinks back against the chair and crosses her arms over her chest.
“So,” I say, getting back to my point, “I’m going to state the obvious here.”
Everyone turns to look at me.
Apollo and Zeus and who knows how many other gods and godly players are on the side that wants to stop us. They believe the best thing for both gods and man is for the door to be sealed permanently, and the only way they can ensure that happening is to kill us so we can’t open it. Which means there’s an easy way to get that side off our backs.
“Let’s open the door.”
Five pairs of eyes blink blankly at me.
“If the only reason he’s connecting with Greer and tracking her is to prevent us from opening the door,” I explain, “then he’ll stop once we do—or at least stop trying to kill us.”
That still leaves the monster side eager to kill us after so they can have free reign in this realm, but that’s a whole other issue. One enemy at a time.
No one answers.
I clench my jaw. It may not be a spectacular idea, but it’s certainly the most useful one offered up yet. “It’s better than covering Greer in head-to-toe Hephaestian gold.”
Including over her eyes, nose, and mouth. What good is getting her off the gods’ radar if she suffocates in the process?
“You are correct,” Ursula says. “Opening the door would eliminate Apollo’s desire to see the three of you dead.”
Thank you. At least I’m not the only one who can see reason.
“I know there are other options,” I say. “I know we can seal the door, killing every creature inside. But I’m not okay with that.”
I already know Grace feels the same way. I glance at Greer, and she shakes her head. We don’t always agree—meaning never—but we’re on the same page about that.
I lift my brows and give Ursula a then-what’s-the-problem look.
For a moment, I feel like it’s four years ago. When Ursula first started training me, I questioned everything. I argued all the time and butted heads with her about the smallest things. The only difference now is this time I’m not doing it because I have something to prove. I’m doing it because I’m right.
Next to him, Greer scowls. I’m not sure if it’s an I-was-wondering-the-same-thing scowl or a why-are-you-accusing-my-boy scowl. I don’t care either way.
“Grace is my sister,” Thane says slowly.
“She’s my sister, too,” I reply, “and my first job is to protect her. Now”—I level my fiercest huntress glare at him, pulling my hypno powers to the front of the class—“tell me who you are.”
I watch his eyes carefully, looking for signs that he’s as immune to my Medusa eyes as Nick. But, to my shock, his eyes grow unfocused.
“Who are you?” I ask.
He replies, “Thane Whitfield.”
“Why are you fighting in this war?”
“For Grace,” he says, his voice hollow and distant. “For Greer.”
Greer looks from me to Thane and back again. “Satisfied?”
I shrug. Not entirely, but at least that’s one thing off the list. Thane has no mythological blood. He’s just a truly amazing human fighter.
Well, I can’t be right all the time.
I pull out my phone and try texting Grace again.
That’s two unanswered phone calls and twice as many text messages since we reached the safe house. Nick isn’t responding, either. They were supposed to find our mother and meet back here. I hope it’s only a matter of a bad signal or taking longer to locate Cassandra than Grace guessed, and not that they’ve run into trouble looking for her. Much longer and I’m going to go looking for them.
“Huntress no answer huntress?” Sillus asks.
I give him a sideways glance. “Not yet.”
“Huntress will,” he says. “Huntress always okay.”
I pat him on the shoulder. I hope he’s right.
“What about the Bacchanalia?” Ursula glances at her sister. “Perhaps an out-of-body experience is enough to disconnect her.”
“And just where do you think we’ll find a dozen Dionysian goats?” Sthenno replies. “Or a trio of innocent maidens, for that matter?”
“Enough!” I blurt.
I am so sick of this back-and-forth of bad ideas and ridiculous suggestions. Dionysian goats? Seriously? It’s time we come up with a practical solution. The protective mojo on the safe house won’t last forever, and I want Greer safe before it runs out.
“We think Apollo is on the side with Zeus, right? The side that wants us dead before we can open the door, right?” I ask.
The gorgons exchange a look.
“We are certain,” Ursula says. “He was among those who held us captive on Olympus.”
“Along with Zeus, Hera, and more than half of the Olympians,” Sthenno adds.
“Why didn’t one of the others set you free?” Greer asks. “We have Olympians on our side, too, right?”
“We do,” Ursula answers, “though not many.”
Sthenno says, “They could not have aided us without the risk of exposing themselves. For many, secrecy is their only protection.”
“We need them in place,” Ursula explains. “When the time comes, you will need their help more than we ever did.”
That seems to appease Greer’s curiosity, because she sinks back against the chair and crosses her arms over her chest.
“So,” I say, getting back to my point, “I’m going to state the obvious here.”
Everyone turns to look at me.
Apollo and Zeus and who knows how many other gods and godly players are on the side that wants to stop us. They believe the best thing for both gods and man is for the door to be sealed permanently, and the only way they can ensure that happening is to kill us so we can’t open it. Which means there’s an easy way to get that side off our backs.
“Let’s open the door.”
Five pairs of eyes blink blankly at me.
“If the only reason he’s connecting with Greer and tracking her is to prevent us from opening the door,” I explain, “then he’ll stop once we do—or at least stop trying to kill us.”
That still leaves the monster side eager to kill us after so they can have free reign in this realm, but that’s a whole other issue. One enemy at a time.
No one answers.
I clench my jaw. It may not be a spectacular idea, but it’s certainly the most useful one offered up yet. “It’s better than covering Greer in head-to-toe Hephaestian gold.”
Including over her eyes, nose, and mouth. What good is getting her off the gods’ radar if she suffocates in the process?
“You are correct,” Ursula says. “Opening the door would eliminate Apollo’s desire to see the three of you dead.”
Thank you. At least I’m not the only one who can see reason.
“I know there are other options,” I say. “I know we can seal the door, killing every creature inside. But I’m not okay with that.”
I already know Grace feels the same way. I glance at Greer, and she shakes her head. We don’t always agree—meaning never—but we’re on the same page about that.
I lift my brows and give Ursula a then-what’s-the-problem look.
For a moment, I feel like it’s four years ago. When Ursula first started training me, I questioned everything. I argued all the time and butted heads with her about the smallest things. The only difference now is this time I’m not doing it because I have something to prove. I’m doing it because I’m right.
