Starcrossed (43 page)

fair. This is a relic from the goddess of love herself, and if you don’t

think it’s possible for someone to be driven mad by love, it’s only

because you haven’t truly felt it yet.”

“Then I’ll take it off. . . .”

“You will not,” Noel ordered. “The cestus has probably saved you

more times than you can know. Do I need to remind you again

how important your life is?”

They sat staring at each other for a few moments while Helen

struggled with her thoughts. She’d read the Iliad, and she’d hated

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Paris and Helen as much as Lucas had. She saw them as selfish. So

selfish that they were willing to watch a city burn to the ground

rather than part. But was Helen Hamilton any better than Helen of

Troy if she wouldn’t give up the man she wanted when it was

required?

“Why didn’t anyone tell me this before?” Helen burst out.

“Lucas forbade it. He said he wanted a little time and a little privacy,

and no one blamed him for that. Relationships are private

things.”

“But we’re not allowed to have a relationship, are we?” Tears

tried to make hot puddles out of her eyes. “This isn’t fair.”

“I know it isn’t,” Noel said, brushing a lock of Helen’s hair behind

her shoulder so she could see her face.

“Are none of us are allowed to choose?” Helen said, thinking of

Cassandra and what she had to suffer. Her whole body was clammy

with nervous sweat and starting to shake. How could she stay away

from Lucas? She didn’t think she could make herself do that any

sooner than she could make one of her hands shrivel up and fall

off.

“Castor and I tried to choose differently,” Noel said sadly. “We

tried to run away just before Lucas was born. We wanted a fresh

start so badly that we didn’t even give him a traditional name.”

“So what happened?” Helen asked, desperate to keep Noel talking

and maybe learn something that might give her a reason to

hope.

“What always happens,” Noel said with a knowing smile.

“Family.”

Helen sat still for a moment, unwilling to stand up for fear that it

would end the interview and therefore end her welcome in this

house. She knew from witnessing everyone else’s obedient reaction

that what Noel said in her kitchen was law for the entire family.

Helen had always thought that Noel was the weak one, the one who

needed protecting, but she was beginning to realize that Noel had a

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power all her own. When it came down to the matter of who was to

be accepted into the family and who was denied hospitality, Noel

had the final say for everyone that lived under her roof. Not even

Lucas would be able to break away from that without being forced

to leave his entire family behind. Helen had been denied Noel’s

blessing, and that was the end of it.

Helen managed to stand up and make her way to the door but

when she got there she paused. “May I ask you one more question?”

Helen said, following an impulse. She waited politely for

Noel to nod before continuing. “What would you have named

Lucas?”

“Tradition would have led us to name him after Castor’s father.”

Noel’s face was closed.

“And what was that?” Helen asked, already half knowing what

Lucas’s name would have been, what it should have been if his

mother and father had followed the rules.

“Paris,” Noel replied, unable to look Helen in the eye.

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UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

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.....................................................................

Chapter Fifteen

The meadow went on and on and on—endlessly. There

was only one type of flower that grew here—a small

blossom so pale it was nearly transparent. No bees

buzzed around these flowers and none of them altered

from their precise alignment unless Helen brushed

against them. They were infertile things that had no scent, sustained

no life with their nectar. They were never going to bear

fruit.

The terrain she plodded through was no longer hilly nor toilsome,

the temperature was neither hot nor cold, and no sharp

stones or thorny bushes cut her feet, but still, the place was intolerable.

Helen may as well have stood in one spot for weeks, staring

at the same uninspiring flower and breathing the same stale

air, as walk. The land she had entered was unchanging, repetitive,

pointless, and the longer she stayed there the more numb she

became.

It was a meadow of misery.

Helen woke up and couldn’t remember what day it was. Did it matter?

she wondered, but then she remembered that if it was

Saturday she wouldn’t have to go to school. That meant she

wouldn’t have to put up with any more of the random awkward

questions she kept getting from eager girls trying to determine

whether she and Lucas were still dating. The vultures were circling,

painting their lips or flexing their muscles, all of them hoping to be

the first to land on one or the other of the carcasses.

If it was Saturday, Helen wouldn’t run the risk of seeing Lucas

from afar as he went from class to class. She wouldn’t have to recognize

the graceful curve of his shoulder or the curious tilt of his

head rising over the throngs of nondescript shapes that made up

the rest of the population. If it was Saturday, she could go to the

Delos house knowing that he wouldn’t be there while she trained.

But if it was Saturday, that only left her with a different pile of crap

to shovel for the next sixteen or seventeen hours—all day she’d

have to be where he wasn’t.

Helen rolled over on the air mattress, looked at the clock, and

saw that it was indeed Saturday. Nine and a half days had passed

since Noel had banned her from Lucas’s presence, and Helen was

still waiting to feel something—but all she felt was numb. She

heard Ariadne stir and then scoot over to the edge of the bed to

look down at her where she lay on the air mattress.

“Morning,” Ariadne said with a wan smile. “How’d you sleep?”

Helen answered by throwing the covers off to reveal the untouched

jingle bells still wrapped around her ankles. They were exactly

as they’d been when the two girls went to bed, but under the

bells, Helen’s feet were dirty, swollen, and red from what looked

like weeks of walking.

“Again?” Ariadne asked, dismayed. “You have to be floating out

of the window, because I swear I didn’t hear a thing, and I barely

shut my eyes last night!”

“It’s not your fault,” Helen said, shaking her head and unstrapping

the useless bells. For a moment, Helen considered telling Ariadne

about her vivid nightmares. They all knew she had them, but

Helen hadn’t shared what her dreams were about with anyone

since she’d told them to Kate. Helen took a breath, intending to

confide in Ariadne, and then stopped herself. Would Ari think she

was going crazy like Cassandra? Helen decided she should keep

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her mouth shut. “You know, I really don’t see the point in you

spending every night here if I’m wafting out the window as soon as

you nod off.”

“Don’t even start with that, because it isn’t going to happen,” Ariadne

said peevishly. She threw her covers off and stood. “Lucas is

probably gonna kill me dead enough as it is,” she mumbled nonsensically

as she headed to the bathroom.

“Oh, hey! Sorry!” Jerry said with surprise as he ran into a scantily

clad Ariadne in the hallway.

“Hi,” Ariadne growled at Jerry as she slammed the bathroom

door.

Helen tossed the silly bells under the bed and looked up at her

dad who was peeking timidly around her door.

“I didn’t know Ariadne was here. Again,” he said.

“Yup,” Helen replied, like it was obvious.

“Okay,” he said wavering in and out of the doorway. “And you’ll

be at her house all day, I suppose? Working on that project for

school still?”

“Yup.”

“Okay,” he said, confusion scrunching his brow. “Uh . . . Happy

birthday?”

“Thanks,” Helen replied with a nod. Then she stared at him until

he went away.

“Did I hear your dad say it was your birthday?” Ariadne asked

with wide eyes as she came back into the room.

“Uh-huh,” Helen said. “Not a word to anyone. I just want to practice

and then come home and go to back to bed.”

“No! We should do something!” Ariadne protested. “We should

take the day off and go shopping, then maybe go out for dinner!”

“I’m sorry, Ari, but I can’t. I just woke up and I’m already exhausted,”

Helen replied, hearing her voice sound low. “Practice,

then back to bed. That’s all I want for my birthday.”

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Ariadne shook her head sadly and stared at Helen while she

made up the inflatable bed she insisted on sleeping in every night.

Helen could see that Ariadne wanted to argue, wanted to insist that

Helen at least try to enjoy herself on her birthday, but thankfully,

she gave in.

Helen could barely keep her eyes open, and she was starving. She

wondered again if she actually had walked for days, like she did in

her dream, or if there was something wrong with her mentally.

Noel’s words about love being able to drive a person mad came

back to haunt Helen. Were her all-too-vivid nightmares what Noel

had meant? And then she had to consider if, at that point, it might

not be a comfort to go stark, raving mad.

Creon stepped onto the dock from the private yacht his father had

supplied for him and his team. The trip across the Atlantic from

Spain to Nantucket had been long and tedious, but necessary. They

required tools that would never make it through customs, even on

a privately owned plane, and what was more, they could never fly

their quarry back, anyway. That would be foolish. She needed to be

properly secured no matter how much the preparation inconvenienced

Creon and his team.

His father had explained it all to him—how years ago he’d had

the chance to kill her, but that he had fallen under the spell of her

face—the Face. Creon was surprised that his father had been weaker

than him, but that, too, was a sign of the coming of Atlantis. The

Scion generations were fated to get stronger and stronger, to be

born with more and more talents until finally, a generation was to

come that could defeat the gods. His father’s moment of weakness,

as unfortunate as it was, had its benefits. In that moment, Tantalus

had learned of her phobia for the water. Creon’s quarry feared and

hated the ocean, and that was an advantage for the Hundred Cousins.

By using a boat to transport her, she would be virtually imprisoned

by an element she could not control, and considering how

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powerful she was, they needed to give her prison as many layers of

walls as they could find.

As he disembarked, Creon turned to tell his crew to stay on the

yacht and wait for his return. He wanted to make that it clear to

them that he was in charge by keeping them as far away from the

action as possible. Any one of his dear cousins might be tempted to

take whatever opportunity they could to insert themselves into the

annals of Scion history by stealing his Triumph. Creon couldn’t allow

that to happen, not even by accident. After all of the risks he’d

taken, after all of his patience, he would finally be the one to bring

his House the glory that it deserved. He was destined to be equal to

the heroes of old, like Hercules or Perseus. Maybe even better, because

Creon would do more than kill a hydra or a gorgon. Much

more. He would be the giver of immortality to his family, and to his

father.

Only one life stood in his way, and that life would be delivered to

Tantalus, Head of the House of Thebes and future ruler of Atlantis,

by Creon, his son and Heir, who would receive the honor for the

capture. And maybe he would also be given the hauntingly beautiful

prize that he deserved—his quarry’s daughter.

Ariadne and Helen drove to the compound in total silence. When

they stopped behind Matt at a light in town Ariadne waved. They

could both see his eyes and forehead pinched up with worry as he

stared at Helen in his rearview mirror.

“I know you’re sad, but you shouldn’t ignore Matt like that,” Ariadne

said with a little heat. “He’s one of the best people I’ve ever

met, and you’re hurting him.”

“You’re right. I’m being selfish,” Helen said. She felt blank inside.

Empty. “I know it, and I hate it, but I just can’t seem to stop.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Ariadne stammered apologetically,

her eyes on the road. “I know what you’re sacrificing, and I know

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why. But you know what? I think you need to cry, even just once.

Maybe then you could let it out and feel a little better.”

Helen had tried to cry, but no tears came. Instead, all that she felt

was this creeping nothing inside her. She knew she should care

about how Matt felt, but she didn’t even care how she felt, not even

when she was fighting for her life against Hector on the mat. Their

workouts had become brief and brutal. Now that Helen no longer