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“You mean he didn’t go away when you ordered him to, and you dragged me in here because you don’t want him to win,” Helen corrected with a chuckle.
“That too. Now tell me exactly what happened,” Claire urged, b
ut they were interrupted again, this time by the sound of rustling leaves. It came from deeper inside the woods.
A large man stepped out of the undergrowth. Helen shoved Claire behind her and stepped toward the intruder, ready for a fight.
“Don’t you knuckleheads know that some seriously sketchy men hang out in the woods around high school track meets?” the blond giant said testily.
“Hector!” Helen gasped with relief and jumped into his open arms.
“What’s up, cuz?” he said with a laugh and hugged her tight. Claire joined them and gave Hector a big squeeze before she pulled back and punched him on the chest.
“What are you doing here?” Claire demanded disapprovingly. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Relax, Five-Two,” Hector said as he broke eye contact and looked down, the smile on his face fading fast. “I spoke to Aunt Noel this morning. She told me none of the family would be here.”
“They aren’t, and we’re really glad to see you,” Helen said quickly, giving Claire a little pinch for being so insensitive.
“Of course we’re glad to see you!” Claire exclaimed as she rubbed her pinched arm. “I didn’t mean it like that, Hector, you know that. How’ve you been?”
“Not important,” he said with a shake of his head. “I want to know how you are. And how Luke is doing after last week,” he asked in a low voice.
Helen tried not to flinch, but it was impossible.
“It’s bad,” Claire said sadly.
“Yeah, I know. I talked to Aunt Noel. I still can’t believe Luke would do something like that.” Hector’s voice was harsh, but he looked at Helen sympathetically.
Helen tried to concentrate on Hector’s pain instead of her own. She had lost Lucas, but Hector had lost his whole family. He was so worried about them that he was willing to wait all day crouched in the bushes outside a stupid track meet just to make contact with someone relatively close to them.
Apart from Daphne, whom he barely knew, Hector was alone. Helen realized that of all the people in her life, Hector most likely had the best idea of what she was going through, which was strange since they’d only recently stopped disliking each other.
“How’s my mother?” Helen blurted out, needing to end the sad silence they had all fallen into. Hector gave Helen a cagey look.
“She’s . . . busy” was all he would say about Daphne before he turned back to Claire and changed the subject.
Hector normally told everyone what he thought, whether they wanted to hear it or not. The way he’d dodged Helen’s question made her wonder exactly what her shady mother was up to. Helen had tried to get in touch with Daphne a few times in the past three weeks, but she hadn’t gotten a response. Maybe her mother was purposely avoiding her? Helen didn’t get a chance to dig deeper. Hector was too occupied teasing Claire about how she seemed to be getting shorter. But just as the two of them began to shove each other playfully, an ominous darkness enveloped the woods.
Helen shivered involuntarily and looked all around in a panic. Even though she knew he was dead, she could almost feel Creon reaching up from the grave to try to pull her down into that horrible darkness.
Hector noticed the change in the light just as Helen did. He put out a hand and grabbed Claire protectively by the shoulder. Helen caught Hector’s eye. They both recognized this eerie phenomenon.
“A Shadowmaster?” Helen whispered. “I thought Creon was the only one!”
“So did I,” Hector whispered back, his eyes darting all over the place, looking for a target. But the darkness was like a curtain, closing them in. They couldn’t see farther than a few feet in front of them. “Take Claire and run.”
“I won’t leave you—” Helen began.
“RUN!” Hector screamed as a flashing sword cut through the black curtain and arced down on top of him.
Hector knocked Claire out of the way as he bent backward and to the side like a gymnast in midleap. The bronze blade whistled past his chest and buried itself a full foot into the half-frozen forest floor. Hector kicked savagely into the encroaching shadows, sending his attacker flying through the air and leaving the sword lodged in the ground.
In one fluid motion, Hector raised his torso back to vertical and claimed the sword for himself. As he yanked it out of the ground he used the grip-stop-go momentum of the freed blade to slash across the chest the next figure that appeared out of the gloom, all the while moving faster than the beat of a hummingbird’s heart.
Helen felt metal shatter against her cheek, and in the crippled light she saw the bright fragments of an arrowhead bursting into a dandelion shape under her right eye. She recoiled instinctively from the impact even though she was completely unhurt, and backpedaled until she bumped up against Claire’s leg with her heels.
Helen stood guard in front of her mortal friend. Stunned and breathless, Claire couldn’t stand yet, and she certainly couldn’t run. Helen planted her feet in between Claire and the attackers and called up her lightning.
