Oppression (9 page)

“Elyse, this is Paul and Rachel,” William introduced them.

“Hi,” I said, a little timid. “Sorry for staring, but I’ve just never seen anything like that.”

“It’s fine,” Rachel’s face lit up as she spoke. “Come over by the fire, you guys must be freezing.” She gave us an interested look, obviously wondering why we were wet, before grabbing my arm and leading the way. Paul kept up, walking on the other side of me while William, Nics, and Sam followed close behind.

“What bloodline are you?” Paul asked as we walked. The question seemed as natural to him as asking for my occupation.

“Bloodline?” I asked, honestly not understanding.

He shot William a glance as he realized I didn’t know much about what I was.

“Who are you descendant of?” William clarified.

“Oh. Asclepius,” I returned, hoping that was the answer he was looking for. It sounded so strange to claim relation to a Greek god. I almost expected him to laugh at me.

“Isn’t that healing, though?” He thought about it for a second. “I thought that was really rare.”

Rachel looked at Paul. “Yeah, like prophecy rare.”

“Oh, come on,” William interrupted, giving me a look. “All that healer stuff is just a rumor.”

Suddenly I remembered what Iosif had said about not letting anyone know who I was.

“What’s your ability, Paul?” I asked quickly, trying to get the focus off of me.

“I’m of Hermes,” he answered, but I still felt curious eyes on me. “It’s pretty prevalent. Rachel has a rare one though. She’s of Iris. We’re both messengers.” He took a seat on the sand and reached his hands for the warm flames. The heat of the fire felt good against the dampness of my clothes, so I sat as close as I could.

“I’m faster though,” Rachel chimed in with a proud grin.

“It must be hard to resist when you’re in public,” I said.

“So hard.” She looked at Paul who agreed with a nod. “At least we can fly at The Institute, though.”

“All right, my turn.” I heard William’s voice from behind me.

I turned around eagerly to meet his gaze.

“William,” Rachel whined. “We just met her. You get to see her all the time.”

I could tell from her tone that she was of a pouty spoiled nature, but her puppy dog eyes didn’t faze William in the slightest.

“Too bad,” he said matter-of-factly, and Rachel rocketed into the air, irritated and unsatisfied.

Paul rolled his eyes and gave me an apologetic look before he took off after the runaway ball of light.

“Much better,” William said, sitting beside me.

“What was that about?” I asked. “I thought you wanted me to meet your friends?”

“Well, you met them, and now I want you for myself,” he explained.

I blushed at his candid words.

“Where did Sam and Nics go?”

“Oh they’re fighting down by the water. They do that.”

“Hey, you guys want to help Nics and I build a sand castle?” Sam yelled running toward us.

“Not really,” William answered.

“Me either,” he confessed. “She’s making me.”

“How is she making you?” I asked.

“She said she would extract the light around my head if I refused.” He pressed his fingers to his forehead. “That’s psychotic, right?”

I couldn’t suppress the laughter.

“Just give her a little buzz and she’ll calm down,” William suggested.

“Buzz?” I asked. “Can you shock people or something?”

“I wish,” Sam laughed. “You didn’t tell her my lame excuse for an ability, William, or what?”

“Can you believe it?” he answered. “We actually have more interesting things to talk about.”

Sam ignored him and continued. “I’m of Dionysus, god of wine and theater. Basically I can turn any liquid into wine,” he said rolling his eyes.

“Including the liquid in your body,” William added. “He can make you a little tipsy or cause you to black out completely with no recollection of the insane party you’ll think you attended. Impressive, huh?”

“Sounds like a great ability to me,” I said.

“I don’t know. When compared to that.” He pointed to the airborne pair flitting about high above the flickering flames like some sort of light show.

“Sam,” Nics yelled from a distance.

“I wouldn’t keep Nics waiting,” William advised. “Give her a little buzz like I said, and she’ll probably let you off the hook.”

“Yeah right,” he scoffed. “I’d like to see you mess with her. I’m just going to stay here. At least if she hurts me, Elyse can repair the damage.” He nudged my shoulder with a fake punch and sat down next to me.

“I don’t know,” I said unsure. I wasn’t exactly a seasoned healer, and the expectation made me tense. “Is she violent or something?”

“No,” William laughed. “He’s being ridiculous. Nics is great.”

“Ha!” Sam clearly disagreed.

“Have you ever heard of the phrase ‘third wheel?’” William hinted at Sam.

“Sorry, buddy, third wheel or not, she’s crazy, and I’m not going anywhere.”

William glanced at me subtly, trying to let me in on something secret, before meeting his friend’s eyes with intense concentration. Suddenly Sam seemed hypnotized, his expression soft and besotted. The moment was brief, but I realized what he was trying to do—influence Sam with his ability. William laughed as he dropped his gaze and ended the connection.

“Come on, Will. I told you not to do that. I can’t believe you . . . so ridiculous . . .” Sam mumbled as he stalked off toward Nics.

“That’s one way to get rid of him,” William chuckled.

Out of nowhere the multicolored light glowed in front of us, and Rachel snapped into her physical self in seconds.

“Someone’s coming,” she warned. Her expression was serious and afraid.

“How many? More than one?” William asked immediately.

“Three guys and a girl,” Paul answered as he approached with the other two. “They’re young. Teenagers.”

“What should I do?” Nics asked. “Should I drop the shield?”

“No,” Sam insisted, signaling all of us to lower our voices. “If you drop the shield, we’ll appear out of nowhere to them. You’d expose your ability.”

“They’re slowing down,” William said, before the four of them stopped short of Nics’s invisible black wall.

“Rick,” the girl giggled with the hint of a warning in her voice.

“What? You like it.”

“Yeah,” another jeered with laughter.

“Hey,” she yelled as the third pulled her close, trying to kiss her. “What are you doing? Stop, Steve. Stop.”

“We should do something,” I said, uncomfortable watching her struggle.

“We can’t,” Rachel answered, eying the rest of the group.

“We don’t have to use abilities,” William added.

The piercing scream that carried through the walls of Nics’s shield made everyone’s heads turn at once. One of the aggressors threw the girl to the ground. “Please don’t do this,” she pleaded.

“I have to do something,” William said, heading off toward the fight.

“William,” Sam said catching his arm. “You can’t. You’ll expose Nics’s ability.”

The young girl scrambled to her feet, and screamed again, as two of the guys, clawed and ripped at her clothes.

“We have to do
something
,” I said severely.

Sam gave Nics a regretful look before becoming suddenly focused on the aggressive men. His eyes became fixated, strong and sharp, like an animal catching sight of prey.

“Sam,” Nics warned.

“I don’t feel so good . . .” one of the men said before falling forward onto his knees, face first into the sand.

“Sam don’t,” Nics demanded, moving toward him.

William grabbed her. “It’s too late.” She struggled as the other two men fumbled and collapsed in a heap next to their victim. The girl’s panicked, tear-filled eyes looked around for the source of their unconsciousness, but found nothing. Frantic and eager to escape, she grabbed her purse and kicked the blond one in the stomach before fleeing the scene.

When William let Nics go, she flew forward pushing Sam to the ground. “You idiot,” she yelled with tears in her eyes. “Why? Why did you do that? And for what? If they find out, you know what they’ll do.”

We all went silent with a sort of fearful tension that was laced with uncertainty. A line had been crossed, the forbidden tampered with. No eyes met, but the atmosphere was thick with dread. I could feel it.

“Will?” I looked up at Sam as he spoke. His eyes were wide and worried as he turned to William for affirmation. They filled me with fear. “I couldn’t just watch her . . . she wouldn’t know anything,” he stammered. “It’ll be okay, right?”

“Yeah,” William said too quickly for it to be true. “You know . . . it’s . . . she didn’t see anything . . .” But he was thrown, and it was clear nobody felt certain of the consequences.

“Should we just leave them?” Rachel asked to no one in particular.

“Yes,” William answered, taking charge of the situation. “We need to go.” He looked around at everyone and nodded decisively. “Meet at Cearno’s.”

We all departed without a word, too shaken to speak about it.

9.

CEARNO’S WAS QUIET. Only a few lonely patrons sipped teas and coffees behind their books or newspapers. A couple spoke softly to each other in a dimly lit corner, and then there was Cearno himself, cleaning behind the counter.

From what William had told me, Cearno could never escape the hordes of customers that would always find him. His ability was too enjoyable for it to be kept to himself. Everything he prepared turned out irresistibly delicious. He was a master of taste. Even the simple passion fruit iced tea I was slowly savoring filled my mouth with such magnificent sweet and tangy flavor I felt like each sip was an experience.

Paul had opted to go with Sam and Nics, claiming someone had to act as mediator between the two, so William, Rachel and I waited in a corner booth for them to show up. Nobody spoke a word as we sat there, and as time passed, tension and silence held us captive. I finally had to break the ice.

“Is he going to get arrested?” I blurted out. I couldn’t contain the frustration in my voice. Why weren’t they talking about it? If something was going to happen to him, wasn’t there anything we could do? It was like watching herds of sheep scatter aimlessly, afraid of the wolf, but making themselves more vulnerable in the hunt. “What’s going to happen?”

“I don’t know,” William answered without confidence.

“Well, what’s the situation here?” I prodded. His lack of assurance made me nervous. “What’s the worst thing that
could
happen to him?”

“They could kill him,” Rachel answered with disgust. “Isn’t that their fix-all solution?” The sarcasm was obvious as she spoke, even through her ever-cheery disposition, but I had to make sure she wasn’t serious.

“They wouldn’t
kill
him, right?”

“No,” William answered for her. “They wouldn’t kill him.” But even he seemed unconvinced of his own words, like it was something he was hoping for rather than something he knew for sure.

Rachel huffed and went back to concentrating on her straw, an apparent sign of her skepticism. Nobody really knew what would happen. Would they kill off one of their own kind for something as trivial as this? My heart began to jump in awkward patterns again.

“How did this happen?” I mumbled to myself.

“What?” asked Rachel, her curiosity piqued.

“This, The Council . . . who are they? I mean, did you elect these people into office or . . .”

“
Elect?
” Rachel said with a chuckle, combing her golden locks out of her eyes. “Where did you hear that? The Council is far from the elect.”

“I guess I had just assumed the communities were a democracy.”

It was hard to believe that a group of people capable of such miraculous abilities would ever be ruled unwillingly.

“The Council has claimed they are the rightful heirs for thousands of years. It’s like a royal family. You don’t really get to vote anyone in or out. You just hope that the next generation straightens things out, which clearly, they haven’t.”

William was preoccupied, his eyes busy finding each person in the coffee house and evaluating their every move. I wondered if his paranoia was as obvious to Rachel as it was to me.

“You guys shouldn’t talk about this here.” His tight lips and hunkered brow added to his serious tone, but he was too handsome for it to have any affect.

“Hasn’t anyone tried to overthrow them?” I asked.

There was a long pause while Rachel offered William the opportunity to answer, but he looked away, and she gladly kept on.

“They’re Descendants of first generation Olympians,” said Rachel, enjoying the heat of the conversation. “It’s not possible.”

William threw her an ice cold look that said more than I understood. I took it as an overreaction, a symptom of his worry.

“First generation? Like Zeus?” I pushed on.

“Exactly. There are six of them.” She paused, reassessing a bit. There was a brief moment as she flickered her eyes toward William, finding the same cold look as before, only this time I picked up on the hesitant tension between them before she continued. “Five, actually. They are descendant of Zeus, Hera, Hades, Demeter, and Hestia, and their abilities are nothing to sneeze at if you know what I mean.”

William quit trying after his several subliminal attempts to steer the conversation. Instead, he listened as Rachel explained things to me, things that as a culture, they were not proud of.

It was hard for me to see him worry. I could almost feel the gut-wrenching ache I knew he had in his stomach just by reading the tight lines on his face. It made it difficult for me to concentrate when he looked like that, but I wanted to know.

“Christoph is the worst of them all,” she continued. “He has Zeus’s bloodline, so he thinks he should be the most powerful. He is more eager to punish than the others.”

“So what can he do? Throw thunderbolts or what?”

“The whole bolt thing was an alias. There is a bloodline that can manipulate electricity, but Zeus only used him as a cover. It was actually pretty smart. It kept him protected. The ability of Zeus’s bloodline is as good as it gets. He can take your power away like it was nothing with a single glance, or if it is in his favor, he can amplify it ten-fold.”

“Only for men though,” William corrected, giving in a little to our conversation. “Adrianna is his counterpart. She’s of Hera, and she can do the same but only for women. Nature’s way of balancing the scale, I suppose.”

“Unless they’re both corrupt,” I added.

“They are,” he said with shame in his voice. “The truth is, if that girl at the beach remembers anything, and somehow they find out, none of the consequences are good.”

“Christoph could take away his ability. Antec, who is descendant of Hades,” Rachel added, “could send him to the underworld for who knows how long—”

“Wait, underworld?” I asked surprised. “You’re telling me that is real?”

“It’s a prison for our kind,” William answered. “Antec controls it, and if that is your sentence, he can make you disappear right on the spot.”

“What’s it like?” I asked, picturing a fire-filled hellhole.

“Nobody really knows,” Rachel said. “One second you’re here, the next you’re gone.”

There was obviously another punishment, one I was pretty sure I could guess at. Nevertheless, the details came as a shock to me.

William sighed with remorse. “Dimitri is another unhappy scenario. He’s descendant of Demeter.”

“Goddess of the harvest?” I asked. It was hard to imagine the goddess of the harvest causing any harm, but then again, nothing had turned out like the Greek myths I was familiar with.

“Yes,” William answered, “but the ability passed down through her bloodline is much more lethal than you would think.”

“Dimitri can make any living thing grow and flourish, or die. Including us,” Rachel explained.

“For plants, the ability isn’t much, but growth for us means that he can make us age, take away centuries of life even.”

“Or, he can just kill you with a touch of his hand,” said Sam’s voice as he approached the table.

We all jumped. He had snuck up on us so easily, and I wondered how much he had heard. Was he listening from a distance as we discussed the possibilities of his potentially dismal fate?

“You okay?” William asked.

“He’s going to be fine, bro,” Paul said, slapping a guff hand to Sam’s back. “Nobody saw anything.”

“What’s with the decade dialect,
bro
?” Nics asked mockingly as she walked up beside him.

They all seemed much more light-hearted about the situation than we were.

“Times are changing. You’ve got to roll with the punches, dude,” Paul continued with a grin. Rachel rolled her eyes and shook her head, but an endearing smile flashed quickly across her face. “Seriously though, he’s going to be fine.”

“He’s right,” Nics agreed. “Those guys were probably drunk before Sam ever got to them. Even if they did wake up and remember suddenly passing out, people would just think they drank too much.”

“Besides,” Sam added, trying to convince himself and the rest of us he’d be fine. “The girl didn’t really
see
anything either. She wouldn’t have much to tell. Three drunk guys passed out before assaulting her—not very incriminating on my part, right?”

I was afraid to ask. Everyone was so optimistic, but the troublesome question burned in my mind.

“Does The Council have ways to tell if a Descendant uses their ability on someone?”

“Only if an agent is in the vicinity,” Nics answered with confidence. “Most Descendant abilities only work within a short distant range, so they’d have to be close, I’d imagine.”

Suddenly I felt the guilt of his choice on my conscience. If an agent had seen him, it would all be my fault. Kara
had
been following me.

“Yeah, and we were pretty secluded,” Sam contributed. He seemed so hopeful. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything about Kara.

So far, everything seemed to have turned out all right, although none of us could deny the lingering unease that plagued the night. It was something only time would tell.

“Well, I’m getting some food before Cearno closes up shop,” Paul said, casually moving away from the topic. “You guys want anything?”

After our order, Cearno cleaned up and got ready to head home. “Just lock up when you leave,” he said trustingly to William before heading out the door. We were out later than I expected, but none of us would be able to sleep anyway. All we could do was wait. To pass the time, we did the only thing we could—hope that it would all be fine.

The six of us had the place to ourselves. Paul and Rachel claimed the dartboard and went off into their own little world where everything was safe and good. Now and again I caught a glimpse of explosive color or the two of them casually hovering far above the ground, a site I couldn’t imagine ever getting used to.

Sam took advantage of his ability. Without ever taking a drink, he was noticeably tipsy, even through his attempt to hide it. He was clinging to Nics, and although she usually liked to provoke him, she was quiet and understanding tonight, reciprocating his need for her. They had commandeered the jukebox, dancing a drunken waltz to every song, no matter what the count.

William and I stayed at our table, nibbling on leftover pastries and sipping Cearno’s famous late night lattes.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this, William? About The Council?” I asked through the music.

He looked at me, a mix of guilt and surrender in his eyes. His gaze didn’t falter. It was honest and pointed, like a place with mirrored walls where you can’t escape yourself.

“There
are
six first generation Olympians. Rachel left one of them out.”

“She left out Poseidon,” I said with a nod. “I noticed that.” I picked a blueberry out of one of the muffins and popped it into my mouth, savoring the flavor.

“Only, Poseidon was never a first generation Olympian. The sixth was Ares. Sort of the same scenario as with Zeus, Poseidon was his alias.”

“So, what’s his ability?” I asked, expecting it to be worse than death.

“He can mimic any ability. Being god of war, he can challenge anyone as an equal using their own power.”

“Okay,” I said, not picking up on the significance. It didn’t seem any more threatening than the other abilities of The Council. “Why would Rachel leave that out?”

He took a deep breath before he answered. “My dad’s bloodline is Ares.”