“I hate the idea of hauling this around with us.” Hector stared at the container, jaw working like he was grinding his teeth.
We were quiet then. The ferry pulled out of port into the Channel. Soon, we were a little bubble of light in the great blackness of the ocean. Achilles rolled the window down, and the sound of engine and the waves hitting the boat filled the van.
The gentle rock of the ferry was soothing, as long as I didn't think too hard about what was beneath us.
Glancing down at Leo, I realized her breathing had evened out, and she'd fallen asleep. I settled the blanket Orestes had given her over the two of us and leaned into the upholstered seat. Within minutes, my eyelids were too heavy to keep open, and I let myself fall asleep.
Orestes
Being on the run was a natural state for me, but it had never been like this. The first, and biggest, difference was the absence of the Furies. The harbingers of wrath had disappeared when Leo had come onto the scene.For the first time since I—my brain stuttered over my crime. Staring at Leo's sleeping face, I made myself think of the whole horrible event.
I killed my mother.
I killed my mother because she killed my father. She killed my father for sacrificing my sister.
I killed my mother because a god demanded it, yes, but I had done it. It was my hand that had held the sword.
The crime. The horrible, unnatural crime had created within me a kind of muscle memory. With no effort at all, I could recall the sensation of plunging the sword into my mother's body.
Unable to stare at Leo while thinking of what I had done, I shut my eyes and dropped my head into my hands. Someone grasped my shoulder, and I lifted my head to find Pollux half out of his seat.
“Stop.” His deep voice was rough. “Whatever you're doing, stop.”
“I thought...” I shook my head. Without asking a single question, Leo brought out all our secrets. For the first time in my existence, and despite being pursued around the globe, I was willing to talk about what I'd done. “I thought, without the Furies, I'd be able to forget everything, but instead, I'm just thinking about everything more. About Apollo's voice in my head, telling me to raise my weapon against my mother.” My hand twitched, and I clenched my fingers. The hilt of the sword was wrapped in leather, and it had been sticky where the blood had dripped from the point. “My sister told me to run, but she was so proud of me. It wasn't until the Furies’ cries chased away every bit of peace that I wondered if I'd been wrong. What does that say about me?”
“If you're measuring who you are now against who you were, then you're fucked,” Achilles offered sagely. “Listen to Pollux and stop. What's done is done. You can't go back. Can't fix it.”
“And actually, what you suffered ended up saving everyone.” Leo's quiet voice drifted to me, the sound jerking Paris awake. She blinked heavy lids and yawned hugely. “What would have happened to the world if you hadn't been so mistreated and misled? Can you picture the gods with nuclear weapons?” She burrowed under the blanket and Paris held her tighter. “You did the world a favor.”
There was a long pause before she asked, “What do you remember about your family?”
No one had ever asked me that. Not my friends. No one.
What did I remember?
My family sent me away not long out of babyhood. Unlike Hector and Paris, my father hadn't wanted me. “I didn't grow up in Greece,” I said, aware that the words were wooden. Emotionless. “The only contact I had with my family was my sister.”
“Electra.”
Leo knew her name, but she had no clue what strength my sister had. She was the one who forced me to run as my mother bled out.Go to Delphi, to Apollo's Temple. This was his demand. He can protect you.
I wondered if Apollo had forced her hand as well, since her voice had been as loud as his, but I would never know.
“Apollo wouldn't protect me from the Furies,” I told her. “I'm powerless against the consequences.But there are no consequences for gods, only for mortals.”
“Our stories are very similar,” she whispered. “The gods we worshipped left us hanging. I mean, the other version of me. But even our lives, this version of my life...” She trailed off and laughed a little. It was quiet and not one of amusement. “My family sent me away, and when I came home, they wanted nothing to do with me. I was raised by nannies and babysitters.” Her smile dimmed, two lines appearing next to her pink lips as she frowned. Paris tucked the blanket around her legs as if to soothe her, and I eyed him jealously.
How could anyone not want to be around Leo? She was like the sun—warm and bright. I didn't know what she had done to make the Furies disappear, but I knew it had everything to do with her.
“My father didn't like me,” I replied, not sure why, but as her gaze lifted to mine, I realized I wanted her not to feel alone. “In those days, there were few fathers like King Priam. Fathers who loved their sons. " I glanced at Paris and Hector. "My father was a famous general, and to him, I was a threat. If I turned out to be as great a fighter, or strategist, then I could eclipse him. Steal his glory. I wondered sometimes if it was the reason my mother never called me home. Maybe she knew my father cared about nothing and would sacrifice us without a second thought.”
I stared at my hands for a moment, seeing the long washed-away blood staining my knuckles and fingers.
“We were lucky,” Paris said. He turned to stare out the window. “Our father loved us. He loved us more than the country, and all the Trojans, who depended on him.”
“That's the way it should be,” Leo replied, her voice fierce and just as hard as Pollux's had been. “They should lift you up and prepare you for the world. Not leave you unsure and frightened.”
Maybe she was referencing my story, but I suspected her belief had more to do with her own experiences than mine.