Timeless, page 2
Cassandra swept into the cafeteria, and the Scions welcomed her with smiles and waves. Everyone else in the lunchroom did the equivalent of a mental stutter step before going back to their own conversations with an added level of fervor.
Cassandra was the Oracle of Delphi, the mouthpiece of the Three Fates, and because of that she had a way of making everyone around her subconsciously aware of the fact that their lives were a fragile thread that would inevitably be cut.
Most people on the island had grown used to Cassandra and pretended they didn’t sense this uncanny aspect of her nature, but even they left her presence with a driving need to live a little more for the rest of the day, like they’d just heard the seconds of their life ticking away on some universal clock.
When Helen had made her friends all essentially immortal, she had frozen them in time. Cassandra still looked like a girl of twelve, though she was almost sixteen. She was naturally small and thin, big-eyed, and pouty lipped, and as such she had always looked younger than she was. Now she was stuck like that, an eternal twelve-year-old who carried the responsibility of Fate within her. Helen had always sympathized with Cassandra, but now she felt guilty about her, too. Though Cassandra insisted that it was the Fates and not Helen’s gift of immortality that were keeping her from becoming a woman, Helen hated that she hadn’t at least tried to help Cassandra grow up before she’d given up Everyland, the world she’d created. And now she couldn’t even try. Without possession of Everyland, Helen was no longer a goddess. She could no longer make her own reality.
Cassandra didn’t come to school very often. The Fates could take possession of her whenever they saw fit, so she was forced to split her time between in-person and remote learning. She never knew when she could be overcome unless she was with Orion. He had the ability to shield her from the Fates so they could neither see the actions of the human world through her or take over her body and speak through her in prophecy. If Orion was close, she was safe from the horrid possessions that left her battered and sickly, but he couldn’t be in Nantucket all the time.
Orion was a leader of two Houses—the House of Athens and the House of Rome—and he had to be in New York to integrate their affairs. And, even though Orion already had more than his share of responsibility, he wasn’t twenty yet. He also had to get an education. He and Hector went to NYU together, and most of the time Orion stayed with him at the Delos brownstone on Washington Square Park unless he swam back to Nantucket to be near Cassandra.
When Orion wasn’t around, Cassandra was frayed and scattered, and she usually stayed home. Coming to school while he was in New York was dangerous for her.
“Don’t forget we’re meeting at the house after school,” she announced, shifting from foot to foot.
“Do we have some work to do?” Ariadne asked excitedly, her eyes darting around to make sure they were not overheard.
Ariadne was the only one among them who was not immortal. When Helen brought the Scions to Everyland and granted them near immortality, Ariadne had not been with them. She was still one of them, though since Matt’s death she had often seemed apart.
“Possibly,” was all Cassandra would say in answer.
The Scions didn’t want to waste their talents while they were going to high school, pretending to be normal. They recognized that they had been given gifts that they should use to benefit others. But it appeared that the Fates did not want the Scions to make the world a better place. Every time a Scion tried to intervene in a situation and do something good for the world it blew up in their face. The Fates made sure that if a Scion did so much as try to stop a traffic accident that was occurring in front of them, they’d have to kill an innocent bystander to do it. The older Scions—the cousins’ fathers, Castor and Pallas—had told them that that’s the way it had always been for Scions. Try as they might, Scions only made mortal’s lives worse when they intervened.
So, the Scions were still working on a system that allowed them to do as much good as they could without causing more harm in the process, but they hadn’t entirely figured it out yet. As the Oracle, Cassandra was at the center of it, and she had many reasons for wanting to find a way to work around the Fates. Freedom from them, for starters.
“Good,” Jason said, smiling at Ariadne, his twin. As Healers, they felt the need to help others more keenly than the rest of them. It was literally what they were born to do.
“Okay, but later,” Claire said. “Helen and I have try-outs for Holiday chorus.”
“Seriously, Gig?” Helen complained. She’d thought Claire had given up on that bad idea. “You’re really going to make me do this?”
“Yes. We’re trying out,” Claire insisted, and then turned back to Cassandra. “We can come after dinner.”
Cassandra tossed her thick black braid behind her shoulder and looked around anxiously. “Fine,” she agreed, and then left them.
“You’re going to sing?” Lucas asked Helen tentatively.
Helen was quite possibly the worst singer in the world. Not only was she tone deaf, but she also had terrible timing. She was always the person singing the chorus during the refrain or belting out a few off-key notes a measure or two before she was supposed to.
“Luckily, everyone has to audition, so I know I won’t make it,” Helen said as the bell signaling the end of lunch rang.
“Thank the gods,” Lucas whispered under his breath.
Helen wrinkled her nose at him as he tucked her under his arm for the short walk to the hallway, where they separated—Lucas, Claire, Jason, and Ariadne to their advanced placement classes, and Helen in the other direction to her totally regular classes.
She glanced back once to see if Lucas was looking at her. And, of course, he was.
Chapter 2
“Well, that was utterly humiliating,” Helen said, still mildly shell-shocked.
“Come on, it was great!” Claire enthused.
“For you! You sounded amazing. I never knew your voice was so pretty.” Helen frowned over this. She knew Claire’s voice better than her own, and just a few weeks ago Claire’s singing had been decent at best. It was strange, but she couldn’t think of anything malignant about this ability, so she let it go.
“You sang, good too,” Claire replied.
Helen couldn’t figure out if Claire was being supportive or sarcastic, but she did know that was a bald-faced lie. She entered the combination on her locker, opened it, and did a complicated juggling act to catch about five different things that fell out at her. Bobble heads, glittery framed pictures of her and Claire from middle school, a silly pen with a giant, goofy-looking alien topper that had been Matt’s, and several other bits of memorabilia from Helen’s long residence at this one particular locker—including a squeaky rubber chicken that had just appeared in there as if it had spontaneously coalesced from the ether—all tried to run for freedom every time Helen opened the door. Her locker was a mess, but she loved it because it was full of stuff that her friends had either made for her or given to her over the years. Sure, it was getting somewhat unruly, but she wasn’t about to throw any of it away.
“Gig. People literally covered their ears,” Helen continued as she shifted some books around.
“Who cares? You still made it into the Holiday Chorus!”
“As the jingle beller! All I do is stand there and shake these.” Helen took the noise makers out of her bag and waved them around. “You don’t even need to have rhythm to be the jingle beller! You just have to keep moving your arm!”
“But you’re still going to be part of the caroling,” Claire said, trying not to laugh at her musically challenged friend.
“And why do I want that, again?” Helen asked, tortured.
“Because it’s our senior year,” Claire lectured sternly. “We’re leaving soon, and if we don’t say yes to everything this year has to offer, we’re going to regret it.”
Even though she had just made a total ass of herself, Helen knew her best friend was right. The more average high school stuff Helen did, the more connected to the world she felt, and Helen needed to stay connected. Some of the things she could do were scary, and sometimes she did them without thinking. The more normal she acted, the more normal she would be.
“What’s high school without a little humiliation, right?” Helen complained as they went outside to the parking lot.
Helen shivered and suppressed the feeling that someone was watching her. A glance around told Helen that they were alone. It was just the cold that made the back of her neck prickle.
“We’re making life-long memories!” Claire shouted to the dark sky. This deep into the winter the sun went down before five o’clock.
Helen stuffed the jingle bells back into her bag. “Yeah.” She laughed darkly, still struck with the feeling that they weren’t alone. “We’ve got to hurry up and live before you become a teen bride.”
She cringed as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She saw Claire deflate and reached out a hand to stop her from walking away.
“Sorry. I don’t know why I said it like that. It sounded less mean in my head. That was terrible.”
Claire nodded, accepting Helen’s apology. “But you are right in a way—even though it was terrible,” she conceded. “It’s like, I know I want to be with him forever, but do we have to start forever right now? Can’t we have a minute?”
Helen shrugged and got into the passenger side of Claire’s car. She understood where Claire was coming from, of course, but at least Claire knew what Jason intended for their relationship. Helen didn’t even know what Lucas wanted to do next year, let alone for the rest of their practically eternal lives.
“It’s so frustrating,” Claire said, starting her car. “What do you say to Lucas when he brings up, you know, the future?”
“He hasn’t brought it up,” Helen replied quietly as they drove off school grounds.
Claire glanced over at her, confused. “I thought—I mean, you know how Jason is always saying Scions marry young, and I just assumed, you and Lucas…”
“It’s fine.” Helen ended the conversation before the tightness in her throat got any worse.
They drove in uncomfortable silence to the Delos compound which was situated on a pristine part of prime Nantucket beach in Siasconset. It was a new construction on a large strip of beach, and though the property had many modern touches like the walls of glass that opened beach side, it was based on the whaler design like most properties on Nantucket. The scale of their property, however, was colossal. Letting themselves in like they lived there, they followed the sound of voices to the library.
“Sparky!”
Helen almost melted with relief when she saw Hector striding toward her, his smile as bright as his blond curls and nearly as broad as his shoulders. He gathered her up in a big bear hug, lifting her off the ground and making a gravelly sound in the back of his throat as he held her.
“I missed you,” she said against his neck. It had only been a few weeks since he had moved out to the Delos brownstone on Washington Square Park to attend NYU, but there was something about Hector’s presence that made Helen feel better. And seeing him made her realize that she really needed to feel better right now.
Hector tilted his head back to look at her. “What is it?” he asked quietly.
Helen shook her head. “Later.”
When Hector put her down it was Orion’s turn. He approached her with narrowed eyes, reading her heart. He hugged her in a softer, less demonstrative, but no less caring way than Hector had.
“Someone needs a cry,” Orion whispered knowingly. Helen chuckled.
“Maybe that’s it. I just need a good cry,” she said, downplaying it. She pulled out of his embrace to look him over. “And you need another haircut.”
“Nah,” Orion said, shaking out his glossy mane. “I’m thinking of growing it out.”
Hector rubbed his eyes in a long-suffering way. “So help me, if I see you wearing a man bun...”
“Who says I’d put it up in a bun?” Orion asked him defensively.
“Orion. You are such a man-bun kind of guy,” Helen said before abruptly switching sides. “But I think it’ll look good on you.”
“Ha!” Orion said, pointing at Hector like he’d just won a bet.
The guys greeted Claire with hugs before she moved to Jason. Helen looked around the room. Castor and Pallas were talking quietly in the corner. Ariadne was standing a little apart, just staring out the window, waiting for the meeting to begin. She’d been doing that more and more since Matt had died.
Jason and Claire went to her and the three of them took places near each other. Cassandra sat in a large chair that swamped her tiny body, her eyes drawn to Orion’s tall, lithe frame.
“Where’s Lucas?” Helen asked no one in particular.
“He had to leave,” Cassandra answered from across the room.
“To go where?” There was an uncomfortable pause, and Helen realized her voice was louder than it needed to be.
“He didn’t say,” Orion replied softly.
He brushed the inside of her wrist with the tips of his fingers. Helen instantly felt calmer, and she knew that Orion was subtly altering her emotions.
“Lucas doesn’t need to be here. He already knows what I’m about to tell you because he was the one who came up with the plan,” Cassandra said, her gaze drifting down to Orion’s fingers on Helen’s pulse point. “We should get started.”
Helen followed Orion over to the sofa. “Thank you,” she whispered as she sat down in between him and Hector.
Orion tilted his head close, his green eyes peering at her. “Any time.”
He turned his attention back to Cassandra. Helen reminded herself that Orion was unintentionally sexy, but she glanced down at his chest anyway, just to make sure he wasn’t flirting with her. The slow throb of his heart was thick and rich with attraction, but he was always like that. Orion was wired for love, but he was comfortable with being single for now, and that was probably the sexiest thing about him. Cassandra had a devastating crush on him, though he scarcely glanced her way. Cassandra’s mind was mature beyond her years, but her body was still too young, and apart from one befuddled kiss he’d given her when it looked like the world was about to end, Orion didn’t consider her as a partner. She was never going to grow up, so what was the point? He cared about her, and he was careful to take her feelings into account because he didn’t want to hurt her, but that’s where it ended for him. Helen knew that deep down they were perfect for each other. Or they would be if Cassandra ever reached adulthood.
Helen forced herself to concentrate on the meeting rather than the spicy smell of Orion’s skin. He was attractive, but that didn’t mean that she was attracted to him. They’d been down that road and Helen knew it was a dead end. Lucas was the only one she really wanted. She moved away from Orion ever so slightly and tuned in to what Cassandra was saying.
She’d already missed a ton.
“Since Orion seems to be the only one who is hidden from the Fates, you’re all going to have to work with him if you want to use your powers to help people,” Cassandra said. “But in order to do more than just whatever bad things happen directly in front of you when you’re with him, you’re going to need to use my prophecy.”
“So, Lucas has a plan. And we think it’ll work,” Orion said, taking a turn at explaining. “Cassandra will foresee things that are supposed to happen, and on my own—without telling her or anyone else—I’ll pick which event I think I can stop, or fix, or even just make a little better.”
“What about the rest of us?” Ariadne asked.
“At the last possible moment, I’ll come and get whoever has the talents I think can help me best. Your job is to be ready for anything.”
“It’s like a shell game, but for the Fates,” Cassandra said, looking pleased.
Castor and Pallas exchanged doubtful looks.
“What, Dad?” Jason asked, annoyed.
Him and his father’s relationship had become strained ever since Pallas sided with Tantalus and the gods during the last battle—and against Helen. Though Pallas had refused to directly fight, Jason had never really forgiven his father, though he had forgiven Claire and Ariadne for making the same choice. They had done so out of loyalty and love for Matt, who had challenged Helen because she was the Tyrant.
In a way, Matt had been right. Helen was too powerful. She understood why everyone had chosen what they had in the moment. Also, she couldn’t carry a grudge in a bucket. It just wasn’t her style.
“Usually when we get involved with mortals it doesn’t end well for them, even when we have the best intentions,” Pallas reminded them. He looked at Jason and Ariadne. “And I’m not just talking about your mother.”
Ariadne looked away. It had only been a few months since Matt had died. Helen still had trouble accepting that her life-long friend was gone, but for Ariadne it was worse. She had loved Matt.
“But that was before, when the Houses were too busy fighting each other,” Hector argued, eager to move past the fact that his sister was still mourning a guy who had, in fact, killed him. Hector had died, and Lucas had descended into the Underworld and made a deal with Hades for Hector’s revival. Hector had forgiven his father, but he hadn’t forgiven Matt for that stunt. Helen suspected it was less about what side Matt had been on and more because Hector had lost, which still bugged the crap out of him.
“Things are different, and we can finally focus on something other than the survival of our Houses,” Castor said. “But the House Wars weren’t what kept us from doing more for humanity in the past. When I was a kid, I wanted to be like Superman.”
“Pretty sure it was Green Lantern,” Pallas corrected.
