Thea's Fate (Loves of Olympus 1.50)

But with the wind came a terrible noise. A noise he knew well. A man screaming is an altogether different noise than a man’s battle cry. And what sent Spiridion running, terrified, back into the cabin—were the screams of a dozen or so men from the beach below.

Chapter Two

The child’s cry echoed in the night, spurring Xenia on. She pushed through the inner door, hurrying across the dark courtyard as Spiridion cried out again. It tore at her heart, to hear the child so pained. They had, all of them, enough of pain and grieving. She would see it all behind them now.

But Ariston was there, kneeling at the boys’ bedside.

She stilled, waiting. Ariston’s grief was no less than this boy’s… At times, she feared for him. Even knowing his beloved wife was gone, he seemed a man possessed. His devotion to her niece touched her deeply, but she feared his obsession with Medusa might drive him to act rashly… or to madness.

Perhaps this broken child and this shell of a once great warrior might find some peace in one another’s company.

“Hush, boy,” Ariston’s hand rose, hesitated, then stroked the boy’s sweat dampened locks. “Wake up, now.”

Spiridion sat up quickly, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Ariston?”

“I’m here,” Ariston’s voice was strong. “As are you. Safe in the Lady Xenia’s house.”

Xenia smiled sadly. It was true, they were safe, if far from happy.

“A memory…” Spiridion pulled his knees to his chest, burying his face in his hands. “No…a dream.”

“A dream cannot hurt you,” Ariston sat back, watching the boy. To Xenia, Ariston looked too tired, too weary. It was as if his very soul was fatigued. Ariston continued, “Even one none too pleasant. Or so it would seem.”

“’Twas not all bad. But the end… it’s always the same,” Spiridion’s voice dropped low, a whisper. “There’s more…” he murmured, peaking at Ariston from beneath a fall of thick black hair. “I feel as if someone… something is watching me.”

“Something?” Ariston’s voice was low. “Watching you? What dreams haunt you?”

Spiridion’s eyes swept the room, bracing himself.

Xenia felt the air grow taut with unease… She could not flee now, she had no choice. She stepped into the room, offering a reassuring smile. “’Tis only me. What dreams indeed, Spiridion? What can I do to ease you? It’s a fine night, I think. Too fine for such fretful events.”

Ariston stood, glancing at her, then at the boy. “If you’ve a cure for nightmares, Xenia, then you are in great demand. For Spiridion and-” He fell silent, catching whatever admission before it was spilled into the night. “The boy is riddled with them.”

Xenia felt the weight of his words. She knew Spiridion was not the only one suffering from tortured dreams. “Nightmares?” She sat in Ariston’s place, taking the boy’s hands in hers. “In my fine home? Surrounded by thick, high walls? In the very heart of a new Athens, filled with new protectors?”

Spiridion swallowed, staring at her with huge brown eyes. “It has naught to do with your home, my lady… Of that you may be certain.”

“What troubles you then?” She tilted her head. “Sometimes, speaking a thing out loud will ease you.”

Was it a trick or did the boy’s eyes seem to widen? In fear, perhaps? “I can…not.”

Silence filled the room again.

“Not tonight, then,” she murmured, patting the hand she held. “But if something weighs upon you as heavily this does, telling another might lighten your burden. Know that I would help you carry it.”

She was aware of Ariston then, the way he shifted from foot to foot.

“I dare say Ariston would as well. And he has very strong and broad shoulders,” she offered, attempting to lighten their moods. “You are not alone, know that.”

Spiridion’s eyes stared intently upon their joined hands. He took three deep breaths, something she’d seen Medusa do when she was grappling with her emotions. It plucked at her heart to see the boy do it now.

“I am tired,” the boy managed.

She reigned in her memories, the power of her emotions. This boy needed her now. Her tears could wait. She squeezed his hand, smiling. “You should be. The moon is high and bright.”

An owl hooted, catching their attention.

“See, there, Spiridion, you have a lullaby,” Xenia smiled.