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“I’ve felt better.” Helen looked between the two of them, sensing something fishy.
“Would you like me to check you out?” Jason said tentatively. “I may be able to help.”
“That’s great, but unless you can take a nap for me, I don’t think there’s much you can do.”
“Why don’t you let him try?” Cassandra asked a bit too sweetly.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Helen said in a no-nonsense way. Again, they shared a conspiratorial look. “Hey. I’m sitting right here. I can see you two looking at each other, you know.”
“Fine. I want Jason to check you over because we want to know if descending has caused any damage to your brain.” Cassandra had clearly had enough of being polite.
“What she means is that we’ve noticed you seem distracted, and your health has been failing,” Jason soothed.
“Enough, Jason. She wants us to be blunt, so I will be, even if you’re too squeamish.” Cassandra’s imperious gesture made her seem like a woman decades older than she was. “Scions are susceptible to only one kind of illness, Helen. Mental illness. Demigods don’t get the flu or the sniffles. They go mad.”
“Or you can just come right out and say it, Cass. Just like we planned on not doing,” Jason said, rolling his eyes in frustration. “Helen, we’re not saying that you’re crazy. . . .”
“No, but you think I’m getting there. Don’t you?” Helen and Cassandra traded stares, each measuring the other.
Cassandra had changed. Whatever was left of that lovable little girl that Helen once met was either gone or buried so deep Helen didn’t think she’d ever see her again. Helen had to admit she wasn’t a fan of the woman who was replacing Lucas’s little sister. In fact, she thought this new Cassandra was kind of a bitch, and she was moments away from saying so.
“What we need to know is if you are capable of finishing what you started in the Underworld,” Cassandra continued, undaunted by Helen’s challenging look.
“And if I said no, what would you do? What can anyone do?” Helen said with a shrug. “The prophecy said that I’m the only one that can get rid of the Furies and every night I descend whether I want to or not. So what difference does it make if I can handle it or not?”
“Honestly? None. But it does change how we view the information you bring us,” Jason said reasonably. “We’re trying to believe that what you told us about your descent last night is true, but . . .”
“You have got to be kidding me!”
“You said you saw a god—a god who has been imprisoned on Olympus for thousands of years! Then, you said that there was another living person in the Underworld with you and Orion, someone who appeared out of nowhere and miraculously saved your lives,” Cassandra said with a raised voice. “How did this other person get down there?”
“I don’t know! Look, I even doubted that was real for a second there, but I wasn’t the only one who saw all of this, okay? Ask Orion. He’ll tell you exactly the same thing.”
“Who’s to say that your delusions aren’t affecting Orion’s experience of the Underworld, as well as your own?” Cassandra shouted at Helen. “You are the Descender, not him! You’ve told us many times that if you go to bed feeling miserable, you end up in a miserable place. And if you go to bed hearing voices that aren’t there, what then?”
“How do you know I’m hearing voices?” Helen whispered. Jason looked at her sympathetically, like everyone else could see something that Helen couldn’t.
“All we’re saying is that you seem to be able to control the landscape of the Underworld to some extent. You have to consider the possibility that you might be able to create entire experiences.”
Helen shook her head fearfully, unable to accept what they were saying. If they were right, then what was real? She couldn’t allow herself to give in to this insidious thought. She needed to believe in some things, or she might as well give up. And she couldn’t give up, even if she wanted to. Too many people were counting on her. People like Hector and Orion. People she loved very much.
“Cass, you’re the Oracle,” Helen said, grasping at straws. “Why can’t you just look into my future and tell me if I’m going insane?”
“I can’t see you,” Cassandra said a bit more loudly than was necessary. She made a choked sound in the back of her throat and started pacing around. “I can’t see you and I’ve never been able to see Orion. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because the two of you only meet in the Underworld, and I can only see the future of this universe, or maybe . . .”
“What?” Helen challenged. “You started this conversation, Cassandra. You’d better finish it.”
“Maybe you and Orion go insane and don’t have coherent futures that I can read,” Cassandra said tiredly, glancing uncertainly over at Jason, who was glaring back, warning her with his eyes.
“No.” Helen stood up. She felt a pressure inside her head give way and her nose start to run again. “I hear what you’re saying, but you’re wrong. I’m being pushed to my limit, and I know that it’s taking a lot out of me, but I’m not going crazy.”
Jason sighed and dropped his head into his hands like he was as weary and as fed up as Helen. A sudden burst of energy overcame him. He took three fast strides over to his father’s desk and pulled a handful of tissues out of the box that was resting on top.
“Here,” he said in an intense voice as he gestured to Helen’s face with the tissues.
Helen raised a searching hand and touched her nose. When she pulled her hand back it was covered in blood.
“Scions don’t get spontaneous nosebleeds.” Cassandra’s expression was unreadable. “Jason and I think this problem is much worse than anyone else is willing to admit.”
