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It wasn’t that he thought Helen didn’t love him. He knew she did. But Orion could give her what she needed, and he couldn’t. All Lucas had to do to make Helen happy was get out of the way. It was simple—even if it was also killing him.
“Lucas?” his father called out, sighting him. He came running down the beach in a blur.
Castor may have had a head start, but Hector and Jason both beat him to where Lucas hung back, walking slowly up the beach.
“I can’t believe it!” Hector howled, grabbing Lucas in a bear hug. “We all thought you got toasted!”
“I did,” Lucas said, laughing as his cousin swung him around.
“Get off him, doofus,” Jason said irritably to his brother. “Let me at least check him over before you crack his ribs.”
“I’m fine, Jase,” Lucas insisted as Hector put him down. “Completely healed.”
It took him what seemed like forever to greet the rest of his family. While he tried to prove to his mother that he had all his skin still on, he caught a glimpse of Helen having an intense conversation with Orion.
When Lucas next stole a glimpse of Helen, she was glaring at her mother, and Lucas could tell that they’d had a quick exchange about Jerry. He didn’t know what they had said to each other, but he was pretty sure that they’d decided to save their fight until later.
The group formed a circle around a leveled area of sand. It was a makeshift arena, probably very much like the first fighting grounds. Unfamiliar Scions—Lucas assumed they were members from the Hundred Cousins—finished their task and backed out of the ring, throwing a torch, a key, and a serpent into the cleared area.
A woman appeared, and the three symbols that had conjured her vanished. She wasn’t young, and her features weren’t perfect, but even still she was lovely. And terrifying, Lucas decided.
“Hecate,” Hector whispered. Lucas nodded absently, momentarily transfixed on the only Titan left to wander the world, before she disappeared again.
Lucas glanced up and down the beach. It was November, not long after dawn, and bitterly cold, but there were still a few people scattered along the shore. What if someone saw?
“How are they expecting to pull off a duel without bystanders calling the police?” Hector mumbled to Lucas.
“Hecate,” Lucas mumbled back. “Once the duel starts, nothing can stop it. She’ll keep any interference away. Especially uninvited mortals.”
Lucas looked over at Orion. His eyes were on his father, who stood a few paces in front of him, his sword ready. Helen was at his side. Lucas quickly looked away when he saw Helen and Orion join hands.
He turned his attention to Phaon, who stood across the ring. His stance was slack, listless, like he wasn’t really paying attention. Compared to Daedalus, who was squared off and eager to get into the fight, Phaon’s mind seemed to be elsewhere.
“He’s dead already,” Hector said in Lucas’s ear. Lucas nodded in agreement. Phaon had given up. Although Lucas knew that Phaon deserved this death, he felt pity for him.
“I just want to say one last thing, if I may?” Phaon’s thin voice barely outshouted the waves. “I was not always a horrible person, although I’ve done horrible things. I understand now that what I did was wrong.”
Lucas felt his pity deepen. He took a step forward to say that this duel should be stopped, when Phaon crumpled to his knees with a shriek. He clutched at his chest, like someone had just stabbed him there.
“Try that again and I’ll rip out what’s left of your heart,” Orion said, his face livid. Whatever internal battle the two of them were fighting with their talents from the House of Rome, Orion won. The ground shook, and for a moment it looked like Orion was ready to tear Phaon apart with his bare hands, but Helen put her arm out and stopped him.
Lucas no longer felt pity, although Phaon had never looked more pathetic. His sympathy had strangely vanished. He realized that Phaon must have been controlling their emotions. Looking around at the rest of the group, Lucas saw that everyone was as furious with Phaon for manipulating them as he was.
“Get up,” Orion commanded, and Phaon rose to his feet. “Pick up your sword.” Phaon took the hilt of his sword in his hand and a lascivious leer tugged his face into an ugly shape.
“Why so frustrated? I already told you, you can have the little one, Orion. You know she wants it from you.” Phaon grinned obscenely at Cassandra.
Lucas felt Hector and Jason grab his arms, and he realized that he had been moving forward to get the twisted bastard.
“Don’t,” Hector growled in his ear. “It’s not your life to take.”
“I’ll see you all in Hades,” Phaon said with a despotic laugh.
“No,” Helen said, her voice ringing like a goddess. “You won’t.”
She spoke with such certainty that Phaon’s manic smile melted. He stared at her, knowing that she knew better than any of them what awaited him. The look on Helen’s face was sphinxlike. Merciless. It terrified him, as it should have.
“Begin,” Orion said. He moved out of the arena’s circle like he knew exactly what he was doing. For a moment, Lucas wondered if Orion had dueled more than one man in the Colosseum.
