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“For my sister, Cassiopeia,” Daedalus said quietly, almost like he was praying.
And then he attacked Phaon with all the skill and power of a seasoned warrior.
Lucas counted four strokes before he saw Phaon gushing blood from a wound in the leg. Phaon limped around, kicking up sand to distract his opponent, but that didn’t deter a veteran like Daedalus. He feinted, moved past Phaon, and reversed his thrust with the tip of his blade to pierce Phaon in the back—specifically in the kidney, a very painful wound.
Jason nudged Lucas. They glanced at each other, and realized together what Daedalus was doing. He wasn’t going to go for a quick kill.
“He’s going to bleed Phaon to death,” Jason whispered.
“Good,” Lucas replied. He looked to his right and saw Hector nodding in agreement.
It took almost twenty minutes. A cut here, a bone-breaking blow there, and on and on it went, until even Lucas, Jason, and Hector became uncomfortable. Daedalus was ruthless. He inflicted each injury as if he were ticking off the ultimate bucket list. This was obviously something Daedalus had thought about for a very long time.
No one spoke or moved to stop him.
Lucas looked at his father, expecting to see him growing uncomfortable as he watched the systematic torture of another human being. But instead, all he saw was a removed expression on Castor’s face, like his father was remembering something painful that still lingered from long ago. Glancing at all of the members of the older generation, Lucas saw similar expressions, and he knew that everyone present believed that Phaon deserved the extreme punishment he suffered now.
Phaon flailed. In agony, he chattered on about how he wasn’t sorry. He went on and on about how he owned innocence because he stole it, and now he was the god of innocence. He insisted that he might be a monster, but weren’t they all?
The answer was a decided no. The rest of the Scions, for all their faults, were not like him. When Daedalus finally cut off Phaon’s head with a straight, clean blow, they nodded as one, turning their faces to the sky.
Catharsis, Lucas thought.
“Well done, my son,” said a ringing voice.
The circle turned and looked at the waterline. Striding up out of the waves was a bare-chested young man with black hair and piercing blue eyes. He carried a trident, but because of the look on his face, to Lucas it appeared to be more like a pitchfork in the hands of a devil. A devil that looked exactly like Lucas.
He heard gasps fro
m the group, and he felt Hector nudge him.
“There’s your evil twin,” Hector said under his breath, his face enlivened by the danger he felt in the air.
Lucas knew he should have been more amazed by the appearance of a god, but he wasn’t. Strangely, he could only think about his swim with the lemon shark a few minutes ago. Helen had just given him a new power over the ocean. He could breathe underwater. Not for the first time, Lucas wondered if she’d given him more powers than that.
“My Scions have always been stronger than yours, niece, and here again, my Daedalus has proven the physical superiority of my offspring by killing your Phaon.”
“Like I care about a show of brute strength?” asked another voice that purred seductively.
Again, the group turned as one to see a tall woman, her blonde hair falling in clouds down to the back of her knees and her voluptuous body undulating like waves beneath it. Dressed only in a sheer white slip, she sauntered up the beach, her toes tickling the foamy crease where the waves met the sand.
“It’s not the strength of the arm, but the passion inside the hearts of those who fight that ultimately determines the winner of the war, Poseidon. We’ve been through this.” She went directly to Helen and stood in front of her as she spoke. “Many times, in many wars, we’ve seen how the hearts of men and women decide the outcome of battles.” She smiled and took both of Helen’s hands in hers. “Hello again, Helen.”
“Hello, Aphrodite,” Helen replied, tears gathering in her eyes.
Helen actually remembers her, Lucas thought. For the first time he considered what that meant. Helen remembered Troy. She knew what really happened.
“I’ve missed you so much,” Aphrodite said.
“And I’ve missed you,” Helen said, her voice catching, like she was not only surprised to find herself saying this, but surprised to be feeling it, too.
“Funny, isn’t it? I’ve known every love possible, but as the years stretched out, the love I longed for the most is the one I shared with my sister.”
The two women hugged each other tenderly, and the golden glow that grew around them was mesmerizing to see, like looking at magic. Lucas could hear the hearts of the Scions slow to beat with Helen’s and Aphrodite’s. It was a strong, binding synchronicity that Lucas knew they would all remember, no matter how opposed they were in the future.
Fear ballooned inside of Lucas. Not because the gods were among them again, but because Helen was at the center of it all. She inspired such love in him, in Orion, even in a goddess. There was no hate without love, and Lucas couldn’t help but think that they would all soon be facing a desperate fight because of the pure love they all felt in that moment.
“A touching reunion,” said the bare-chested man with black hair. “But your man lost, Aphrodite. And you still owe me our wager.”
