Entwined (35 page)

“Chopper will be the fastest way to get there,” Nick said, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “We’ve got one at the airstrip, just outside Silver Hills. I can radio ahead and have it fired up.”

“Good.” Plans materialized in Zander’s mind. From the corner of his eye he saw Callia’s exasperated expression, felt her frustration. But he ignored it. He was heading into attack mode, and this time it wasn’t just duty, it was personal.

“One question,” Nick asked. “What the hell can one Argonaut do against a horde of daemons?”

“He’s not just one,” Theron announced. “If Atalanta’s got one of our own, we’re all going.”

“And me,” Callia said.

Zander didn’t look over. “No.”

“I—”

“Not this time,
thea
.” Adrenaline pulsing with the prospect of what lay ahead, he focused on Nick. “We’ll need maps of the terrain. Fresh weapons. And your best guess where you think she could be hiding out with my son.”

“Done. But you’re gonna need more than that, hero. Something tells me you’re gonna need the favor of the fucking gods.”

Callia crossed her arms over her chest and paced the length of the main living room in the lodge of the colony. Rustic tables and leather couches filled the space, making the room seem homey and inviting, but right now the last thing she could do was sit and relax. Every second that ticked by on the clock sent her anxiety into the out-of-this-world range and thoughts of murder spiraling through her mind.

It was close to ten
P.M.
Zander and the others had been gone almost thirty minutes. Only Gryphon remained, standing guard outside. Nick had insisted his soldiers could handle the babysitting detail, but Theron had been adamant the guardian remain. And Callia was still more pissed than pleased with the way she and the other “females” had been shuffled off to wait. Again.

“You’re going to wear a path in the floor,” Casey said from her seat on one of the couches. “Come over here and sit down.”

“I can’t.” Callia chewed on her thumbnail. “Where do you think they are right now? If I had a map maybe I could—”

“Woe is the forgotten female,” Isadora said on a sigh from the window where she was gazing out at the waterfall that spilled into a massive pool in the middle of the cavern. She looked over her shoulder at Callia and Casey. “Story of our lives, isn’t it?”

“It’s not like that,” Casey said. “Theron does have a point, whether you two want to admit it or not.”

Callia glanced at Isadora. “She really is a sappy newly-wed, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” Isadora said, rubbing her forehead. “Disgusting,
isn’t it? Makes my head pound worse than being in the same room with the two of you.”

Casey crossed her arms again and leaned against the back of the couch with a huff. “I’m all for women’s lib, you know, just not when it involves being stupid. And that’s what going out there would be. Stupid.” Her gaze shot to the orb resting on the coffee table in front of her. “If you two stopped moping long enough, maybe we could put our heads together and come up with a way to help.”

“Like what?” Callia asked, exasperated.

Casey picked up a book she’d set next to her on the couch. “Do you both know the history of the Horae?”

“No,” Callia answered. “Reading hasn’t exactly been high on my priority list lately.”

At her snarky remark, Isadora smirked.

Casey rolled her eyes. “Before Nick took off with the guys he gave me this.” She gestured to the encyclopedia-like tome. “There were three. Sometimes called the Hours, or the Seasons. But mostly they were the wardens of the sky and Olympus. Eunomia was responsible for order in society. Dike maintained justice. And then there was Eirene—the peace and balance between the other two. And they all bore a mark: a winged omega.”

“Eirene,” Callia breathed, easing down to sit next to Casey on the couch. “That’s what Atalanta called me in the cabin.”

Isadora moved to sit opposite them on the other couch. “Our specific powers relate well to the Horae. My foresight, Casey’s hindsight, your balance. It doesn’t surprise me that Atalanta recognized you as Eirene.”

“But I’m a healer. I don’t—”

“What is a healer?” Casey asked. “Someone who restores balance to the body. Callia, you’re the balance to us.” She nodded at Isadora. “To the Chosen.”

Callia glanced between them with the distinct feeling these two were tag-teaming her for something she wasn’t sure she was ready for. She’d yet to adjust to the fact she
was the king’s daughter, and here they were throwing mythological bonds at her. “You know, that sounds all cool on the surface, but why do I get the impression there’s more to this than nifty names and historic links?”

“Orpheus mentioned a weapon,” Isadora said. “He told me that the three of us had something we wouldn’t yet understand. I didn’t believe him before, but…I know you both felt that electric shock when the orb was brought out.” She held her hands over the orb resting on the coffee table between them.

“Um…what are you doing?” Callia asked. Sure, she’d felt the jolt Isadora described, but she still had no idea what it meant.

“Orpheus has been teaching me how to focus my abilities,” Isadora answered.

“Wait,” Casey said, holding up a hand. “What the hell do you mean, Orpheus has been ‘teaching’ you? And I thought you lost your power of foresight. Did it come back?”

Isadora’s forehead wrinkled. “No, not yet. But this is different. This isn’t looking into the future or the past. It’s looking at the present. I’m curious…If we all focus on the same thing, maybe we can see an image. Or a location.”

Callia’s nerves hummed as realization dawned. She swallowed hard. “You want us each to focus on the guardians. See where they’re going.”

“No.” Isadora’s brow lifted. “Screw the Argonauts. I want us to focus on Atalanta.”

Casey and Callia darted worried looks at each other.

“It makes sense,” Casey said after a lingering moment. “We know a ten-year-old couldn’t have outrun a daemon. Atalanta won’t kill him. But she will hide him. If we can figure out where she’s holding him, we could radio the Argonauts and tell them his location.”

Hope, the first hope she’d felt since the guardians left, filled Callia’s soul. Her palms grew damp. She rubbed them across her thighs. “What if she can see us? I mean, is it safe? If we can look at her, is it possible she can look back?”

“It could be, I suppose,” Isadora said. “But what would that matter? She won’t know where we are.”

Callia looked from Isadora to Casey and back again. No one spoke. It made sense, but indecision roared within Callia. What if they were wrong? What if Atalanta’s powers were strong enough so she could see them, what they were planning, read their thoughts or some—

Casey scooted forward. “So how do we do this?”

“Touch and focus is how I was always able to see the future,” Isadora said.

“And I the past,” Casey added.

Isadora looked to Callia. “Ready?”

No, Callia wasn’t ready. But Casey was right. At least they were doing something, and the odds things could go wrong from simply looking were slim to none.

Tentatively, she lowered her hand onto the orb. The metal was cold beneath her fingers. Casey and Isadora lowered their fingers to touch the curved disk. As soon as all three made contact, heat flared up from the metal and shot through Callia’s arm.

Callia sucked in a breath. The glow grew in intensity, changing from a soft pink to a bright red radiance that arced out all around their hands.

“That’s it,” Isadora whispered. “Now focus. Remember the goal.”

Callia closed her eyes and pictured Atalanta. What she knew of Atalanta. Not so much the image of a deity, but the essence of her soul. Colors flashed behind her eyes. White, gold, blue, black. It was the black that stayed, like a stain, like the evil Callia imagined coursed through the demigod’s veins. A picture flickered. Fuzzy at first, but growing steadily clearer the longer she concentrated. Green rolling hills, a great river, cliffs, a winding road and domed building with three tiers that looked completely out of place perched high on a cliff overlooking the gorge below. And Atalanta, seated on a throne inside the building, dressed in bloodred robes, looking up at the circular balcony above
and the twenty or so daemons from her army peering down, awaiting instructions.

This was not the mountaintop truck stop Zander and the Argonauts were heading for. This was somewhere else. Somewhere green and damp, not snow covered and cold. Voices rumbled but she couldn’t make out the words. The daemons scattered until Atalanta was alone in the octagonal shaped room. She lowered her face and peered straight ahead. And seemed to be gazing…right at Callia.

I see you, Horae.

Callia gasped. Her eyes shot open. She looked from Casey to Isadora, neither of whom seemed startled at all. Their eyes were closed, their faces calm. They each breathed slowly, their hands resting gently on the glowing orb.

Yes, you, Eirene.

When Callia looked back, she didn’t see the comfortable living room around her; she saw Atalanta once more, the throne she was seated on and the stone walls at her back.

I see into your mind. I know what it is you want. We are not that different, you and me. The ones left behind. The ones shunned by the mighty heroes. You know why he refused you.

Callia’s heart picked up speed. She tried to pull her hand back from the orb but couldn’t. It was cemented in place.

Because you are female. And to him that means weak. Do you honestly think he forbids you to fight because he wants to protect you? Because he loves you?
She sneered.
An Argonaut does not know love. He is a product of the egotistical god from which he was spawned.

“You lie.”

He represses you because he can,
Atalanta went on as if Callia hadn’t even spoken.
Because his kind has been doing it since ancient times. And because you, Eirene, are his vulnerability. His weakness. His Achilles’ heel. Do you think he cares if you live or die? He cares only for himself.

“No,” Callia whispered.

Ask him, female. And learn the truth. No male, especially an Argonaut, has honor in his heart. Not when his existence is on the line.

Thoughts of Zander ran through Callia’s mind. Of their time together in the past. Of his admissions earlier today, here, in this very colony. Of his immortality. Of the fact he’d told her she was his life.

A feral smile crossed Atalanta’s face. One that challenged and mocked.
Yes, Eirene. You know I speak the truth. He needs you only to live. And he and the others will go on repressing you for as long as they possibly can.

No, it couldn’t be true…

Your heroes walk into a trap. My daemons are waiting for them.
Her voice dropped to a hiss.
And they will be slaughtered. Every one of them.

Callia swallowed hard. “Zander can’t be killed.”

But he can be hurt. And my daemons will take great pleasure in torturing him until you die of old age.

Fear knifed into Callia’s heart.

Of course, I may be willing to make a trade…

Atalanta gestured to her right, and that’s when Callia saw the boy. Leaning against the wall, his head tipped to the side in sleep, his hands bound behind him and his legs stretched out on the floor. And that heart she thought had broken so long ago roared to life in her chest. He was a miniature version of Zander. With blond hair and bronzed skin and a face that looked like it had been kissed by angels.

I’m willing to spare young Maximus’s life. For something of even greater value.

At the anticipation in Atalanta’s voice, Callia’s gaze shifted back to the demigod. And understanding dawned. “You want the orb.”

Not just the orb, Eirene. I want you as well.

A voice in Callia’s head screamed
No!
but the one in her heart told her this was her only option. She would do anything for her son. Even sacrifice her life to save his. And Zander…

She couldn’t let Zander and the others walk into a trap. Not when she could do something to save them. Not when she knew in her heart Zander did love her. He hadn’t left her here because she was his vulnerability, as Atalanta claimed. He’d left her to keep her safe.

“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

Because I give it to you as a hero. As a female. As a mother. Come now, Eirene. You must know once I have you and the Orb of Krónos, I won’t need the others anymore.

Yeah, right. Callia wasn’t stupid enough to buy that one. “And what about my sisters?”

I care not for the Chosen. This is between you and me. They cannot hear our conversation.
Atalanta tipped her head.
Tell me, Eirene…just what are you willing to sacrifice for balance in this world and the next?

Callia glanced at Casey and Isadora, both oblivious to what was happening right under their noses. All her life she’d sat back and done nothing while others made decisions for her. And in the end…what had happened? The ones she loved were hurt because of who and what she was. Now she understood why. And now she had the chance to change things.

She didn’t believe Atalanta would keep her word, not for a second. And she wasn’t stupid enough to take the demigod the orb. But if she could get away from the colony, if she could figure out where Atalanta was holding her son…Maybe she could alert Zander, and he and the others could reach the boy before it was too late. Atalanta only needed one blood relative of the Horae. Callia would gladly trade herself for her son. And she knew Atalanta wouldn’t kill her if she truly needed her, which meant Zander would be safe as well.

She glanced at the satellite phone just out of her reach. At the one Nick had left for them in case there was an emergency. And before the half-breed leader’s directions even passed through her mind, she had her answer. If she did nothing, Zander and the others were lost. If she took the deal, only her life was forfeit.

And that was fitting, wasn’t it? Considering her life had brought them all to this point to begin with.