Sweet Legacy
Page 72
“What?” Grace gasps.
I meet Gretchen’s gaze. “I didn’t think that was up for debate.”
Gretchen doesn’t blink as she speaks. “Maybe it’s not,” she says, “but we are in this together. The responsibility will be ours together. We need to decide this together.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.” Nick looks like he wants to be sick.
“I’m sorry, Nick,” Gretchen replies, “but you don’t get a vote. We’re the Key Generation. There are other alternatives and I don’t want there to be any regrets.”
Alternatives? Gretchen is right. Even if we believe we are decided, we need to at least consider the other options. This decision will affect the rest of our lives. We need to think this through. What if we don’t open the door? What if we seal it forever or just let it seal itself through our inaction?
A picture of my life before—before I met my sisters, before I started seeing monsters again, before I knew that I had an ancient legacy to fulfill—flashes through my mind. At first, I’d thought that life was worth holding on to at all costs. Do I still want that? The success and the pressure and the twenty-year career plan?
The very thought makes me want to yawn.
“Well, I vote yes,” Grace says after the slightest hesitation. “It’s our destiny. We can’t just let all those creatures die.”
Those creatures—some of them—are our friends.
I think back to our time in the abyss. Sealing the door forever—and we do mean forever—would mean the death of every living thing inside. The Nemean lions and skorpios hybrids I’m not terribly compassionate about—I wouldn’t mind fewer run-ins with them—but the golden maiden? The oceanid? The onyx guards? Sillus?
How could I live with myself if I sacrificed countless innocent creatures for the selfish purpose of preserving my social life? I couldn’t.
Grace is right; we can’t condemn them to death for the evils of others. They are pawns in this game of the gods.
Besides, the image of the picture-perfect life I once thought I wanted doesn’t seem all that appealing anymore. New-student socials and midterm study groups have lost their allure. They’re downright boring. I’ve gotten kind of used to danger and adventure. I’m not about to give that up now.
“I agree,” I finally say. “We open the door.”
Gretchen nods, smiling like I passed a test. “Then it’s unanimous.”
Nick visibly relaxes. Did he really think Gretchen—any of us—would say no? Maybe he did. Maybe the old Gretchen would have. The Gretchen I first met, only a few weeks ago, would not have thought twice about the innocent creatures. Monsters were monsters were monsters; her only job was to send them home, by any means necessary. She’s changed a lot in a short time. We all have.
Wise choice, the woman says.
“Oh for the love of Gucci,” I shout. “Who are you and what are you doing in my brain?”
“Um, Greer?” Grace asks.
“What?” I snap.
My sisters exchange a look. Gretchen asks, “Who were you talking to?”
Oh, just the voices in my head—yeah, that confession would go over real well. They’re still freaked out that I might somehow rekindle my connection to Apollo. I don’t need to make them worry, not when we are at such a critical point in the prophecy.
“Then”—Grace looks at each of us—“what next?”
“Well, if we’ve interpreted the riddle correctly,” I reply, “we stand within the triangle of trees, join our blood, and the door opens.”
“Just like that?” Grace asks, skeptical.
“No,” Gretchen says, “not just like that. First, we have to battle the Olympic faction that wants to prevent us from opening the door. They will try to kill us before we have a chance to pull out the dagger.”
“They’ll have numbers on you,” Nick says. “They’ve been planning this for millennia.”
“They might not find us,” Grace suggests. “We might be able to open the door without them ever finding out.”
“Only if our luck changes,” Gretchen says.
Thane shakes his head. “They’ll find you. With Apollo on their side, it’s only a matter of time.”
Grace looks at me. “At least he isn’t magically connected to you anymore.”
Yeah, thankfully. Thankfully I died and severed that—
“Oh!” I say, remembering the message the Fates—another important trio—gave me on my visit to Hades. “There is something else we need to do before we open the door.”
“What’s that?” Gretchen asks.
“‘Fight not alone,’” I say, repeating the words of advice.
“What?” Gretchen frowns.
Grace asks, “What does that mean?”
“It’s the advice from the Fates,” I say. “I think it means we need to call for help.”
“From who?” Gretchen asks.
“The gorgons are on their way,” Grace offers.
“We’ll need more than the gorgons,” I reply. “We’ll need as much help as we can get.”
“From who?” Gretchen repeats.
I resist the urge to correct Gretchen’s grammar. “From everyone. From the monster realm, from our friends.” I look each of my sisters in the eye. “Right now, I have to believe that the more people we have on our side, the better.”
I meet Gretchen’s gaze. “I didn’t think that was up for debate.”
Gretchen doesn’t blink as she speaks. “Maybe it’s not,” she says, “but we are in this together. The responsibility will be ours together. We need to decide this together.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.” Nick looks like he wants to be sick.
“I’m sorry, Nick,” Gretchen replies, “but you don’t get a vote. We’re the Key Generation. There are other alternatives and I don’t want there to be any regrets.”
Alternatives? Gretchen is right. Even if we believe we are decided, we need to at least consider the other options. This decision will affect the rest of our lives. We need to think this through. What if we don’t open the door? What if we seal it forever or just let it seal itself through our inaction?
A picture of my life before—before I met my sisters, before I started seeing monsters again, before I knew that I had an ancient legacy to fulfill—flashes through my mind. At first, I’d thought that life was worth holding on to at all costs. Do I still want that? The success and the pressure and the twenty-year career plan?
The very thought makes me want to yawn.
“Well, I vote yes,” Grace says after the slightest hesitation. “It’s our destiny. We can’t just let all those creatures die.”
Those creatures—some of them—are our friends.
I think back to our time in the abyss. Sealing the door forever—and we do mean forever—would mean the death of every living thing inside. The Nemean lions and skorpios hybrids I’m not terribly compassionate about—I wouldn’t mind fewer run-ins with them—but the golden maiden? The oceanid? The onyx guards? Sillus?
How could I live with myself if I sacrificed countless innocent creatures for the selfish purpose of preserving my social life? I couldn’t.
Grace is right; we can’t condemn them to death for the evils of others. They are pawns in this game of the gods.
Besides, the image of the picture-perfect life I once thought I wanted doesn’t seem all that appealing anymore. New-student socials and midterm study groups have lost their allure. They’re downright boring. I’ve gotten kind of used to danger and adventure. I’m not about to give that up now.
“I agree,” I finally say. “We open the door.”
Gretchen nods, smiling like I passed a test. “Then it’s unanimous.”
Nick visibly relaxes. Did he really think Gretchen—any of us—would say no? Maybe he did. Maybe the old Gretchen would have. The Gretchen I first met, only a few weeks ago, would not have thought twice about the innocent creatures. Monsters were monsters were monsters; her only job was to send them home, by any means necessary. She’s changed a lot in a short time. We all have.
Wise choice, the woman says.
“Oh for the love of Gucci,” I shout. “Who are you and what are you doing in my brain?”
“Um, Greer?” Grace asks.
“What?” I snap.
My sisters exchange a look. Gretchen asks, “Who were you talking to?”
Oh, just the voices in my head—yeah, that confession would go over real well. They’re still freaked out that I might somehow rekindle my connection to Apollo. I don’t need to make them worry, not when we are at such a critical point in the prophecy.
“Then”—Grace looks at each of us—“what next?”
“Well, if we’ve interpreted the riddle correctly,” I reply, “we stand within the triangle of trees, join our blood, and the door opens.”
“Just like that?” Grace asks, skeptical.
“No,” Gretchen says, “not just like that. First, we have to battle the Olympic faction that wants to prevent us from opening the door. They will try to kill us before we have a chance to pull out the dagger.”
“They’ll have numbers on you,” Nick says. “They’ve been planning this for millennia.”
“They might not find us,” Grace suggests. “We might be able to open the door without them ever finding out.”
“Only if our luck changes,” Gretchen says.
Thane shakes his head. “They’ll find you. With Apollo on their side, it’s only a matter of time.”
Grace looks at me. “At least he isn’t magically connected to you anymore.”
Yeah, thankfully. Thankfully I died and severed that—
“Oh!” I say, remembering the message the Fates—another important trio—gave me on my visit to Hades. “There is something else we need to do before we open the door.”
“What’s that?” Gretchen asks.
“‘Fight not alone,’” I say, repeating the words of advice.
“What?” Gretchen frowns.
Grace asks, “What does that mean?”
“It’s the advice from the Fates,” I say. “I think it means we need to call for help.”
“From who?” Gretchen asks.
“The gorgons are on their way,” Grace offers.
“We’ll need more than the gorgons,” I reply. “We’ll need as much help as we can get.”
“From who?” Gretchen repeats.
I resist the urge to correct Gretchen’s grammar. “From everyone. From the monster realm, from our friends.” I look each of my sisters in the eye. “Right now, I have to believe that the more people we have on our side, the better.”
