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Most of the other Scions relaxed as well. Even though the other Houses didn’t know Hector personally, they had all heard of his reputation. He had killed Creon, a Shadowmaster, with his bare hands. As far as they were concerned, that was proof enough of his skill in single combat.
There really was no Scion who could match Hector, except maybe Helen herself. He was the perfect hero. The biggest physical threat was Daphne and she adored Hector. No matter what Daphne’s motives were, and Helen openly admitted to herself that she had no idea what those could be, Helen sensed that her mother would never kill Hector. He reminded her too much of Ajax.
At least, that’s what Orion and Helen were banking on. Neither of them could think of a Scion who could beat Hector, so they hoped that the death toll for the day would end at two—Phaon and some other poor thing, hopefully from the Hundred Cousins or from a distant offshoot of the House of Athens.
All of this last-second planning she and Orion had done should have put Helen at ease, but it didn’t. When she looked back at Zeus, his smile had grown wider.
Helen noticed a disturbance around them, like the sand dunes were coming alive. A moment later, the dunes were covered in strange men, dressed in archaic armor. Helen could see that some had shiny red eyes, and others had hard, armor-like skin or pincers for hands. Myrmidons. She remembered Automedon killing Zach, and her fingertips crackled with angry lightning.
“Do you think you can take a Myrmidon?” Helen asked in an aside to Hector, realizing that she and Orion hadn’t accounted for this.
“I got it,” he whispered back confidently. Helen looked past Hector to Lucas, who pursed his lips and nodded, silently
confirming that he thought Hector could do it, too.
“I have chosen a champion as well, Helen,” Zeus announced. Triumph gleamed in his eyes. “Achilles to match your Hector.”
The Myrmidons parted and let a single warrior pass through their ranks to stand across from Hector. Helen knew this warrior—his walk, his haircut, even the T-shirt he was wearing, although at that moment it was mostly covered by strange armor. He’d had that shirt for two years now, and Helen knew it was his favorite. Everything about him was familiar to Helen, except for the newly developed power she could sense in him now.
“Matt?” Helen howled disbelievingly. “What the hells are you doing hanging out with a bunch of Myrmidons?”
He glanced at her and quickly turned his attention to Hector.
“It’s not you I want,” Matt said to Hector. “There’s only one life I want to take, and it was never yours. I came to kill the Tyrant.”
“Matt,” Lucas said calmly while Hector and Matt stared each other down. “There is no Tyrant.”
“Oh yes there is,” Matt said harshly. He looked at Helen.
They had been friends since they were too little to stand, and she had never seen his face like this. It was like he hated her.
“She may not be doing anything to hurt you now, Lucas,” he continued. “But absolute power corrupts absolutely, and there has never been a being with more power than Helen.”
Helen felt dizzy and slightly nauseous. Because she knew he was right.
“Helen? The Tyrant?” Orion said, guffawing with disbelief.
Tantalus, Daedalus, and Pallas all moved away from Helen and positioned themselves behind Matt.
“Dad,” Orion hissed, but then quickly shut his mouth. Helen saw his eyes harden, and she could see in his heart that Orion was scolding himself for not having anticipated this.
Helen looked at Hector and saw him staring at his father, Pallas. There was genuine hurt in his eyes, but no blame. They were so different that it didn’t surprise either one to find the other on the opposite side of the war.
Castor stood firmly behind Lucas, glaring at his brothers. Helen felt Daphne take a position behind her and Orion.
More Scions shuffled around on the outskirts of the group. Tense, murmured arguments flared up and then subsided as individual members broke from their Houses and decided for themselves which side they preferred—Helen’s or the god’s. Two distinct sides were being drawn. Matt raised his voice so everyone could hear him.
“The prophecy says that the Tyrant is the vessel where the blood of the Four Houses has mixed. Tell me Orion, how many powers did Helen get in the blood-brother exchange with you and Lucas?” Matt said. “Nearly all of them, right? That’s what we’ve figured.”
Matt gestured to Claire and Ariadne, and they moved to join his side. Helen felt her stomach slide down like she was on a roller coaster. All of a sudden, she couldn’t breathe.
Losing Matt was a big enough blow, but losing Claire was unthinkable. Her Giggles. Her best friend ever, and she’d picked the other side. Helen knew that Claire had doubts about her. She should have tried to talk to Claire instead of keeping secrets, but instead she’d let the rift between them grow larger and larger. And all that fear she saw in Claire’s heart had taken over.
Helen heard Jason whisper Claire’s name to himself, and when she glanced over at him, it looked like he was dying inside. Helen had a brief memory flash of Troilus, whose wife, Cressida, betrayed him by choosing a Greek lover over him. Helen could see into Claire’s heart, and it was obvious how torn she was. But when Helen looked at Matt’s heart, there was no conflict. He believed what he was doing was right.
“Matt. How can you do this?” Helen asked, trying her hardest not to cry.
“Because you can control the earth, the sea, and the sky,” Matt said as more and more Scions joined his side. “You can call lightning, manipulate gravity, and pull all the swords out of an army’s hands by generating a magnetic field. You can control hearts, and now I learn that you’ve even created your own world. Helen, is there a force you don’t command—except maybe yourself? You nearly killed Lucas your emotions were so out of control, and from what I’ve seen your behavior is getting more erratic as time goes on, not less.” Helen looked away and made a frustrated sound, but Matt continued. “Most important, please explain to me, if you can make your own world—a perfect world that you control utterly—what’s to stop you from destroying this one if we don’t do exactly as you say?”
