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“How are you?” Helen asked, seeing the sad look on her best friend’s face.
“Wicked tired. You?”
“Starving.” Helen swung her legs out of bed, and Claire got up to help her. The two friends wobbled downstairs together to raid the refrigerator. Even though Helen knew she had to eat as much as she could shove down in order to help her body rebuild itself while she healed, she couldn’t take her eyes off Claire.
“What is it, Gig?” Helen asked quietly after swallowing only a bite or two of chicken noodle soup. “Is it Jason?”
“It’s all of you. Everyone got hurt this time. And I know that this isn’t the end of it,” Claire answered, still uncharacteristically sad. “There’s a war coming, isn’t there?”
Helen put her spoon down. “I don’t know, but the gods are free to leave Olympus and come to Earth again. Because of me.”
“It’s not your fault,” Claire began defensively. “You got tricked.”
“So? Tricked or not, I failed,” Helen said in a matter-of-fact way. “I let Ares corner me, even though I’d been warned that something was going to happen.”
She felt horrible, but she knew she couldn’t allow herself to wallow in guilt, so she kept the self-pity out of her voice. The Underworld had taught her that indulging in negativity, no matter how justified, would never solve any of her problems. She filed that revelation away for some other conversation with Hades and got back on topic. “Have the gods appeared anywhere yet? Have they done anything?”
The image of a big, beautiful stallion running down a beach flashed in Helen’s head. There was blood on his forelegs. The image made her shudder with revulsion.
“We haven’t heard anything,” Claire said with a shrug. “At least, no wrath-of-the-gods stuff.”
“What has Cassandra foreseen?”
“Nothing. She hasn’t made any prophecies at all since the three of you were brought back here.”
Helen pursed her lips together, lost in thought. Just when the Scions needed an Oracle the most, of course, she’d be silent. That’s the way Greek drama worked. Still, it bothered Helen. Greek or not, there still had to be a reason Cassandra couldn’t see the future. “Because it’s ironic” just wasn’t a good enough answer for Helen anymore.
“Len?” Claire asked, her voice a frightened whisper. “Can you stop the gods?”
“I don’t know, Gig.” Helen looked over at her best friend. Claire was pale with fear and lack of sleep. “But if any of them try to hurt any of us, I’ll fight them with everything I’ve got.”
Claire smiled, finally relaxing a little. “Eat your soup,” she admonished suddenly, like it just occurred to her.
Helen snickered and obeyed. She knew this was Claire’s way of reassuming her usual role as the boss, and she dutifully reached for her spoon while she thought about the gods. They might not be smiting any mountaintops just yet, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t out and about. After thousands of years in a prison, they had to be back on Earth, but where were they? The Scions were weak and scattered. If the gods wanted to fight them, now would be the time to strike. What were they waiting for? Helen took a few sips of soup before noticing Claire’s wide eyes.
“What is it?” Helen asked around her food.
“You never picked up your spoon,” Claire responded, her eyes unblinking as she stared at Helen’s hand. “You held out your hand, and it just flew to you.”
Helen looked at the spoon and tried to remember picking it up. She remembered reaching for it, but that was it. She put the spoon down and held her hand over it. Nothing happened.
“I think you need to go back to bed, Gig,” Helen said with a dubious smile.
“Yeah. Maybe you’re right,” Claire said, but she didn’t look convinced.
When Helen finished her large breakfast, Claire helped her back upstairs and into the shower. While Helen scrubbed away the last of the blood and dirt, Claire sat on top of the sink rubbing lotion absentmindedly on her legs and feet, keeping herself handy in case Helen got woozy.
“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Claire asked for the tenth time.
“I’m sure.” Helen laughed as she toweled off. “Honestly, I feel pretty good.”
“You really are the strongest, aren’t you?”
Helen looked away. Although she and Claire had showered together after track meets a million times and were not the least bit shy around each other, Helen suddenly felt naked. She didn’t like Claire thinking she was some kind of . . . well, demigod. They were more than best friends. They were sisters, really, and Helen hated to be reminded that there was anything unequal about them.
“What makes you say that?” she asked in a tense voice. Claire pursed her lips.
“You should see the guys as soon as you’re done.”
