Dreamless (Starcrossed 2)

At such a show of tenderness, Helen couldn’t help but look over toward Lucas, who was walking on the other side of the group. He was as far from her as he could get, and he never once glanced up at any of them. Helen looked away. She felt the weight settling on her chest again, but this time the crushing feeling that she was becoming so familiar with was coupled with something else. Frustration. She had to stop falling apart every time she looked at Lucas, and focus. Too much was at stake.

When they all got back into the library, Matt was still a little green around the edges. Helen started talking immediately to divert any well-meant but probably embarrassing questions about whether or not he needed to puke.

She told everyone about Orion, his fights in the Under­world, and his connection with her mother. There were a few questions about how he got into the Underworld, and more than one disbelieving outburst that anyone but her could survive down there. Helen explained that Orion had the Bough of Aeneas, and it allowed him to travel between the worlds.

“And he’s definitely not just a spirit,” Helen said with certainty. “He loaned me his jacket, and it was still on me when I woke up in the morning.”

“That break-in at the Met?” Castor said urgently to his brother as soon as Helen mentioned the Bough.

“Had to have been. All that was stolen was a piece of ancient metalwork. A golden leaf,” Pallas replied. “And it was stolen by an unknown woman who walked right in, smashed her hand through plate glass, and walked out. A woman who didn’t bother to wear a mask, didn’t use anything but her bare hands, and apparently didn’t shed one drop of blood.”

“Let me guess,” Helen said heavily. “My mother, right?”

“But why would Daphne steal the Bough, and then just hand it over to Orion?” Jason asked. “It’s such a powerful object.”

“Orion told me he’s descended from Aeneas, so he’s the only one that can get it to work,” Helen answered.

“Then he’s Heir to the House of Rome,” Castor said in a slightly awed voice.

“He’s actually the Head of that House. How’d you know?” Helen asked.

“You haven’t read the Aeneid yet, have you?” Castor said, without reproof. “Aeneas was Hector’s best general in the Trojan War, and one of the few survivors when Troy fell. He was also the founder of Rome, and the founder of the Scion House of Rome.”

“And he was the son of Aphrodite.” Ariadne grinned suggestively at Helen. “So is this Orion guy as hot as . . . Ouch!”

Jason had kicked his tactless twin under the table. When she looked over at him he shook his head at her to make sure she didn’t keep going. As it was, Helen felt like her face was trying to burst into flames, though she didn’t know exactly why. She hadn’t done anything to be ashamed of.

“You said ‘that’ House a moment ago, almost as if he were connected to more than one,” Lucas said without raising his eyes to meet Helen’s.

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“He is,” Helen stammered, looking anywhere but at Lucas. “Orion is Head of the House of Rome, but he’s also Heir to the House of Athens.”

The room erupted into several conversations at once. Apparently, Orion was the first Scion ever to inherit two Houses, which made sense once Helen thought about it since the Furies worked so hard to keep the Houses separate. As Helen picked snippets of conversation out of the turmoil, it became clear that there was a prophecy concerning Orion, and it wasn’t a good one.

“Wait! Hold up,” Helen interrupted as she started to hear people talk about Orion in a way that she didn’t like. “Will somebody please explain this to me?”

“There’s not much to explain,” Cassandra said briskly. “There was a prophecy made before the Trojan War by Cassandra of Troy. She foresaw that there would be a Multiple Heir—we think that means a Scion who inherits more than one House. This Multiple Heir, or the ‘Vessel Where Royal Scion Blood Has Mixed’ to be exact, is one of a trinity of Scions that we think are supposed to replace the three major gods—Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. The Three Scions are to rule the sky, the oceans, and the land of the dead, if they manage to overthrow the gods and take their places, that is. The existence of the Multiple Heir is a sign that the End Times are coming to a close. The final battle is about to begin.”

“He’s known as the Tyrant,” Lucas said quietly, and all eyes turned to him in the otherwise motionless room. “He’s described as being ‘born to bitterness’ and he’s supposed to be capable of ‘reducing all mortal cities to rubble.’”

“Like a Scion Antichrist?” Claire whispered to Jason, but in such a hushed room, everyone heard her desperate question.

“No, dear, it’s not exactly the same,” Pallas said soothingly as he reached out to Claire and briefly squeezed her hand. “In our understanding, this is when we Scions get the chance to fight for our immortality. It’s not intended to be the end of the world. That said, if the Final Battle goes badly, most mortals won’t survive it. The coming of the Tyrant is one of the signs that it’s all beginning.”

“The prophecy says that the choices the Tyrant makes leading up to the Final Battle may decide all our fates, god, Scion, and mortal alike. That’s really all we know,” Castor added.

“Remember, this is just one section of a very long and very complicated prophecy. Most of which is missing,” Ariadne explained to Helen, Matt, and Claire. “And there’s quite a bit of debate about whether what we have was taken down verbatim, or if parts are just poetry, like in the Iliad.”

“So this prophecy could be nothing more than a bunch of pretty words, but you’ve already decided that Orion is this Tyrant guy?” Helen asked in disbelief. When no one spoke up to deny it, Helen continued. “That’s so unfair.”

Lucas shrugged, his jaw clenched, but kept his eyes trained on the floor. The rest of the Delos clan shot each other looks. Helen glanced from face to face, and then threw her hands up in frustration.

“You don’t know him,” she announced defensively to everyone.

“Neither do you,” Lucas countered harshly. He looked up and met her eye to eye for the first time in a week, and the force of his glare knocked the air right out of Helen’s lungs. There was a tense moment, and everyone stiffened, watching Lucas. He dropped his gaze.

“But he’s not like that,” Helen said barely above a whisper, and shook her head. “Orion could never be a tyrant. He’s really sweet and, well, compassionate.”