“Oh no,” Lancelot whispered, more afraid now than he had been in the heat of battle.
“Your king . . . ,” Guinevere said, her amber eyes darting around frantically as if looking for a way out. “Hector . . . Arthur,” she said fumblingly, as her multilingual mouth tried to say both the traditional Latin name for the new High King from the east, and the Briton’s approximation of that name.
“The clans will never accept his rule unless he takes a wife from among them. They need to know that his sons will be at least part Briton,” Lancelot said, shaking his head. “They will never stop fighting unless you marry him. Many will die.”
They stared at each other. Guinevere was still wide-eyed with disbelief.
“I have a little sister—a half sister of my father’s. She’s only ten now, but in a few years . . .”
“In a few years, thousands will already be dead,” Lancelot said quietly. He turned his head away, forcing himself not to look at her. “You must marry Arthur, or there will be war.”
FOUR
Helen hit the ground with a loud thump.
“Wha-waz-that?” Ariadne gasped, bolting up in bed.
“Me,” Helen moaned from the floor, rubbing the bump on her forehead. “I fell.”
“You fell off the couch?” Andy asked incredulously. “I thought you demigoddesses were supposed to be graceful. Made out of dewdrops and rosebuds and crap.”
“No, that’s fairies,” Ariadne said. “Minus the crap, of course.” Then she snickered, and Andy snickered back. Helen peeked up over the edge of the jiggling mattress and saw the other two girls having a giggle fit.
“Okay, okay. It wasn’t that funny,” Helen groused as she stood up and trudged over to get Andy. “I’m starving. Let’s eat.”
Helen stood between Andy and Ariadne, propping the two girls up as they limped and shuffled their way toward the glorious smell of bacon and muffins coming from the kitchen.
“You’re new,” Kate said cheerfully as soon as the three girls entered.
“Um . . . yeah,” Andy answered, dropping her eyes. “They came to get me,” she mumbled, gesturing to Helen and Ariadne.
“This is the girl who got attacked,” Ariadne said. “Her name is Andy.”
“Let me look at you,” Noel said kindly. She put down the tin of bran muffins she had just taken out of the oven and peered deeply at Andy. Her eyes softened with sadness, and she shook her head once. “You’re really banged up. But even still, I’m good at recognizing the types, and I can’t place your face.”
“She’s not a Scion, Aunt Noel,” Ariadne said. “She’s half siren.”
Andy cringed slightly against Helen, her eyes darting around like she expected something terrible to happen.
“Uh-oh!” Noel said with mock horror and clutched her chest. “Not one of those murdering sirens!” Then she laughed and turned back around to retrieve the muffins. “Sit, girls. Before you all tip over.”
Helen could feel Andy stiffen with confusion. Helen helped her scoot onto the long wooden bench between her and Ariadne.
“Is this really okay?” Andy asked as Ariadne shoveled eggs onto her plate. “I just sort of showed up. You don’t have to feed me or anything.”
“Ha! Try not eating around here,” Helen said. Then she looked at Andy with wide, serious eyes and shook her head emphatically, silently mouthing the word “Don’t.” Ariadne shook her head in agreement with Helen, and the three girls broke into quiet laughter.
“Helen. Your father woke up for a few seconds this morning,” Kate said as she took a sizzling pan of bacon off the range and brought it to the table.
Helen’s mouth suddenly went dry. “I checked on him before I left yesterday. . . .”
“It’s okay,” Kate interrupted soothingly. “I wasn’t accusing you of anything. I just wanted to let you know what’s going on with him.”
“Has anyone told him anything yet?” Helen had no idea how to broach the subject. Did he know she was a Scion? Should she just come right out and ask if Jerry knew that he wasn’t her father yet, or was Kate still in the dark about that point as well? “Did Daphne . . . ?”
“They’ve spoken a few words back and forth. I don’t know what about, though,” Kate said stiffly, whirling away from the table abruptly. “He hasn’t been awake long enough at any one time to have a full conversation, but he knows that Beth is back.”
Helen nodded. “Beth” was the alias that Daphne had used when she conned Jerry, leaving Helen with him as a baby before she ran off. Helen wondered how her father had dealt with seeing her. “Is Daphne around?” Helen asked. “I’d like to talk to her.”