Lucas took his last look at paradise.
“Ready?” Helen asked him, holding his hand tightly in hers.
“No,” he sighed, watching her ever-changing eyes catch the light of the rising sun. “But let’s go, anyway.”
A stab of startling cold, like being plunged into ice water, and they were back at his house. It was quiet in a way that the Delos compound almost never was.
“I thought you said everyone was waiting for us,” he said, starting to worry.
“They were,” she said tentatively. “Orion?” Helen called.
Jealousy shot through Lucas, white hot. He tried to brush it off, but couldn’t. She was still holding his hand, but she was thinking about Orion. In Everyland, Helen could pamper him and treat him like he was the only person in the world, but back on Earth she had someone else to love—someone who wasn’t her cousin.
“My dad,” she said, giving him a worried look.
“Come on,” he said, using the moment to pull his hand out of hers before she saw the battle in his heart.
Lucas and Helen went upstairs and found Kate watching over her father, still asleep.
“Why are you the only one here, Kate?” Helen asked angrily. “You’re not strong enough to stop Daphne if she tries to drug him again.”
“Daphne’s gone down to the beach with everyone else for the duel,” Kate said, her eyes searching Lucas for injury. “Where have you been?”
“What duel?” Lucas looked at Helen to see if she knew. When Helen shrugged, Kate quickly explained what happened after he and Helen had vanished.
“What about Orion?” Helen asked. “Phaon is only doing this to get to him.”
Lucas gritted his teeth and tried to remind himself that he should have expected this. She loved Orion, and Lucas couldn’t blame her. It was easier to love Orion—less complicated.
“Doesn’t matter.” Kate shook her head. “Daedalus and Phaon weren’t allowed to choose . . . what do you call them? Backups? Wingmen?”
“Seconds,” Lucas said, supplying the name.
“That’s it—no seconds allowed for their fight.”
“Even if Phaon lives, he won’t be able to go after Orion,” Lucas told Helen to set her at ease. “Not that he would. Orion would crush him in an open duel.”
“But if Phaon wins, and kills Daedalus . . . ,” Helen began.
“If he wins, he wins. No one can retaliate. Not even Orion.” Lucas watched Helen try to digest this, and he could see she was having a hard time with it. “It’s better this way. The killing has to stop somewhere.”
Helen finally nodded, accepting this even though she didn’t want to. Lucas didn’t blame her. He didn’t want to see a murdering pedophile get away with it if Daedalus lost to Phaon, but there was no way around it. Duels had strict rules. The Titan Hecate, goddess of all portals and crossroads, made interfering with them impossible. It was said that not even Zeus could defy Hecate. She was the only Titan he couldn’t send to Tartarus.
“Do you want to go? I should probably stay in case Daphne comes back,” Helen said to Kate in a weak voice. She obviously didn’t want to stay, but she felt like she had to offer.
“Go? And watch a couple of sweaty dudes I don’t know try to hack off each other’s kibbles and bits with swords?” Kate asked with a cocked eyebrow. “No thanks. I’ll stay here with Jerry.”
“You’re awesome. You know that, right?” Helen told Kate, giving her a hug.
“I do,” Kate replied. She pulled back and looked at Helen, smoothing a hand over her face for a moment and growing serious. “And the less you vanish in a ball of fire and ice the less gray hair I grow. You know that, right?” Helen chuckled. Kate turned to Lucas and pointed at him. “And no more grabbing on to Helen when she’s a human torch, okay?”
“Very sound advice,” he replied as Kate hugged him.
Leaving Kate to watch over Jerry, they hurried down to the beach. As they made their way to the large group of bystanders gathered by the water, Lucas didn’t
try to take Helen’s hand again. He could tell that she was eager to get to Orion, and he didn’t want to make her feel like he was holding her back.
As soon as she caught a glimpse of Orion, she took to the air and flew to him in a rush. Lucas walked the rest of the way to give them a moment alone and to give himself a moment to cool down.