“About that,” Helen started, trying to think up a believable excuse.
“You’re coming. We still haven’t found those two women and now Creon is out there. Learning to defend yourself is more important than what I did or didn’t do to piss you off,” he said, suddenly angry.
She nodded, knowing it was stupid of her to even suggest giving up her training. She could barely see him through the confusing images he was creating as he bent the light around him. It was as if there were three of him for a moment, whirling around like she was looking at him through a kaleidoscope. She kept her head down and her eyes behind her hair until his image stilled and she could look at him without getting dizzy.
“Do you want me to stay away from you for the rest of the day?” he asked in a carefully controlled voice.
No, she thought. And yes. Both answers were completely true. She couldn’t lie to him, but the truth had suddenly become very slippery.
“I think that would be best,” she mumbled.
He didn’t say anything. He just turned on his heel and left her.
“Hi, Luke . . . bye, Luke,” Claire said as she joined them. She looked back and forth at the two of them. “Fight?”
Helen shrugged and took Claire’s hand, leading her into the locker room. “I don’t really care,” was all she had the energy to say.
As they ran the trail she asked about Claire’s day. She let Claire in on the auditorium secret, and told her to tell Matt about it, too, in order to avoid a friendship meltdown. Claire looked at her funny, but she didn’t ask any questions.
Helen felt as if the whole world had turned into some gigantic punch line that she had waited patiently for, and then when she heard it she found it insulting. If she had been in a comedy club she would have gotten up and walked out, but instead she had to go to the comedian’s house after school and let his cousin beat the crap out of her.
When track was over, Helen dutifully rode her bike to the Delos compound, arriving before Lucas, Jason, and Hector did. She went down to the tennis courts, which were in the process of being converted into a proper fighting arena with a sandy bottom, and looked around. There was a sword on the ground. She picked it up and gave it a swing to see how it felt.
It felt goofy as hell. Helen supposed she wasn’t a swordswoman.
“I think Hector wants you to learn the spear first. It’s considered traditional,” Cassandra said behind her.
“Wouldn’t want to mess with tradition,” Helen said sarcastically as she threw the sword down, point first, into the sand so that the hilt made a cross above the ground.
“Yes, you would. In fact, I think that’s what your mother had in mind for you all along,” Cassandra said in that spooky, faraway voice she had a tendency to slip into at crucial moments. “But naming you is something your mother did in the past, and I can only see the future.”
“You’re an oracle!” Helen said, astonished. She should have known all along.
Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to be alone with Cassandra. There was something wrong about her eyes. Helen started to circle around her, always keeping an equal distance between them, but subtly closing the gap between herself and the exit.
“Delphi, Delos. And the Oracle at Delphi was always one of Apollo’s chosen priests,” Helen said as evenly as she could, trying to keep Cassandra distracted.
“Close. The Oracle was always one of Apollo’s Scions, and always a priestess. A girl,” Cassandra said bitterly. “The Oracle of Delphi is the female offspring of Apollo and the Three Fates.”
“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t in the book you gave me,” Helen said uncertainly as Cassandra pulled the sword out of the ground, hefted it in her hand thoughtfully, and took a few steps toward her.
“It wasn’t made known to any of the ancient historians, but they did know that Apollo is the son of Zeus, and not one of the original gods. He was second generation, a kind of glorified Scion, and, like us, he was going to die eventually.” Cassandra came closer to Helen, still holding the sword.
“Then why didn’t he?” Helen asked cautiously, trying to stay calm so as not to provoke her. She circled back the other way, never taking her eyes off the bright bronze blade