“I agree,” Hector said evenly. “Orion has fought alongside us. He is a part of our family,” he continued, nodding to Lucas and Helen.
“Just because someone fought alongside you does not make him a part of this family,” Pallas said to his son in a raised and frustrated voice. “You rely too much on your honor to make your choices for you, Hector!”
Hector looked away from his father’s intense stare, backing down. He was too respectful to go against his father, even if Pallas was wrong. That pissed Helen off.
“This isn’t about honor or about Orion,” Helen said bitterly. She took a step toward Pallas and felt Lucas, Hector, and Jason fall into position behind her. “It’s about Cassandra. You’re too scared to face the future without someone to tell you what to do. You’d rather let her suffer than have to doubt what’s coming next. All this talk about Orion being dangerous is an excuse so you can keep your Oracle and not feel too guilty about what that does to your own niece.”
Pallas took a step toward Helen, his lips curling into a snarl. Undaunted, Helen took a step toward Pallas and tipped her chin up at him, taunting him to take a shot. As far as Helen was concerned, this fight was a long time coming. From the first moment Pallas had laid eyes on Helen, all he’d ever seen was Daphne. After so many years of blaming Daphne for his brother’s murder, he couldn’t let it go. Pallas had always looked at Helen as if any day now she was going to betray the Delos family, and she’d had enough of it.
“And do you think the same of me, Helen? That I would let my daughter go through that torture so I can . . . what? Feel better about tomorrow?” Castor said quietly as he stepped between Helen and Pallas. Helen felt Lucas put his hand on the small of her back, and she eased off.
“No,” she admitted, dropping her gaze. “I don’t think that of you, Castor.”
“Cassandra’s health has always been one of my biggest concerns. But the real problem for our kind is the Tyrant. It always has been,” Castor continued, addressing the group. “I know how you all feel about Orion, and I think those feelings have kept you from seeing the truth.”
“Not this again!” Helen huffed. “Orion isn’t the freaking Tyrant, okay?”
“Wait, Helen,” Matt said holding up a hand. “We don’t have all the facts yet.” He turned to Castor. “What did the Oracle say about the Tyrant before we got here? Did anyone write it down word for word?”
“I did,” Ariadne said from behind her father’s desk. In all the commotion, Helen hadn’t even noticed her there, scribbling away. “I recorded most of it on my phone, too. But I don’t want to hear that again. Do you?”
Matt shook his head. He held out his hand for Ariadne’s pages, and she handed them over. Helen read along over Matt’s shoulder while Ariadne explained.
“She repeated this first line about a hundred times, that’s why I added the dots after it. I think Cassandra was trying to fight them off for as long as she could.” Ariadne dropped her eyes for a moment, collected herself, and then pointed to the notes firmly. “I made an indentation each time a new voice took over. And at the bottom there, I highlighted in blue the words they all spoke together.”
The Tyrant rises. . . .
The Great Cycle, delayed for thirty and three hundreds of years, is nearly complete.
The blood of the Four Houses has mixed and all of Olympus is contained in one.
The time has come. The children must overthrow the parents—or be devoured by them.
The Hero
The Lover
The Shield
The Tyrant—have taken the stage.
The Warrior waits in the wings, the last to join the battle.
The Tyrant shall rise up with power unlimited. On one choice will the fate of all be decided.
Nemesis has sent her vessel to blind us! Darkness! Darkness comes! He must be killed or everything will be destroyed!
Helen and Matt stopped reading at this point and looked up at each other, brows furrowed. That last line they had both heard already—as they came into the library with Orion. “Vessel of Nemesis” and “Darkness comes,” sounded ominous to Helen. If the Fates were talking about Orion here, their descriptions of him certainly didn’t help his case much.
“Is this Nemesis an evil goddess or something?” Helen asked Matt under her breath, trusting that he had done more studying than she had, as usual.
“No, she’s not evil. And she’s way older than the gods,” Matt replied. “She’s a daughter of Nyx, like the Fates.”
“So, Nemesis is probably the sister with the veil that Cassandra was talking about?” Helen asked hopefully, looking around.
“It’s possible,” Castor replied.
“And this is the only time all three of the Fates spoke together? This last line?” Matt asked Ariadne urgently.