Chapter Seventeen
‘The desire for safety stands against every great and noble enterprise.’
Tacitus
The sting of bright lights and hospital-grade anti-bacterial wash burned my eyes and nose when I woke. I blinked against the light, groaning as my head ached. When I reached up and touched my head, it ached sharply and I had no doubt that I’d received some kind of concussion. Blinking, my eyes didn’t stop their aching, but I was able to remember the previous night with blinding clarity. The boat, the storm, the wave …
Lainie!
I was about to shoot out of bed and go look for her, hoisting myself upright but strong hands grasped at my shoulders and pushed me gently back against the pillows. When my eyes focused, I saw that a doctor was standing over me with a sympathetic smile. He had a stethoscope slung around his neck, and when he released my shoulders, his thin lips pulled into a small smile. The change of his expression seemed weird on him, his eyes too serious. I knew that whatever had caused that wave last night, it had serious consequences.
‘Where’s Lainie?’ I demanded, my voice surprising me with how small and weak it was. I winced but he didn’t seem to notice. If he did, he didn’t acknowledge it.
‘Your sister was checked out a couple of hours ago,’ he told me, his hand resting on the cot side as he ruffled his hair lazily. The nurse seemed concerned as she observed the bags under his eyes before she returned to checking whatever details were at the foot of my bed. I looked back at the doctor as he continued. ‘I saw to her progress myself. She hardly seems effected at all, and judging by your progress, neither do you. However, you do appear to have suffered a mild concussion, so I would like to keep you here until Chris and Nevada return to collect you. Just to be safe.’
He smiled once again, seeming a little brighter now that I was satisfied and he nodded his farewell before exiting the room. The nurse followed close after, her footfalls fast and steady as she rushed after him. Alone once more, I settled back against the pillows and wished I had some pain medication. It was truly annoying being allergic to local anesthetic. I sighed, resting my hand on the small lever to my left. Small buttons lined the creamy white plastic, some with little pictures. I observed one that had a stick figure lying against a cot like mine, a small arrow under his head indicating an upward motion. The moment I clicked it, the cot moaned and eased upward quietly. At least I wouldn’t have to fool around with the pillows if I wanted to read. Not that there was anything to read, but the thought was nice.
Eventually, boredom got to me like a worm in an apple and I stopped playing with the lever. I was beginning to feel sick from the repetitive motion of moving the bed upright and back down, the television broadcasting only a few channels that were full of soap operas and age-old television advertisements. When I settled with listening to ‘Days of Our Lives’ on the lowest setting, I cast my gaze toward the ceiling and counted how many dots I could see where age was ruining the too-white paint. Light streamed through the open window, dull because of the overcast clouds that blocked out the sunlight.
‘Knock knock.’
I jumped. Xanthias was paused at the door, his hand raised as he tapped the white surface. The other was shoved in his jeans pocket, and he wore a wicked smile that lit his mysterious eyes. It only made him appear more mysterious, more dangerous. He moved inside and shut the door behind him, unaffected by our proximity as he perched on the edge of the cot. Little threads of my blanket danced between his fingers, his lashes skimming his cheeks. When he didn’t seem like he was going to speak, I cleared my throat pointedly. I had questions and he knew it. He also had at least some of my answers, otherwise he wouldn’t be sitting in front of me.
When he eventually looked up at me, his jaw was set, a nerve ticking slightly as he seemed to process through his thoughts. I shrugged my shoulders, avoiding moving my arms too much in case the needle in my arm yanked the wrong way. He blinked and sighed, fiddling with my fingers this time. I snatched them away, ignoring my feelings of disappointment and longing and shoved my arms across my chest. With my best don’t-give-me-any-crap expression, I drew my gaze level with his.
‘Hello?’ I offered. He bit his lip and looked at me.
‘Hi,’ he mumbled, looking down again. Frustrated, I sighed and snatched his jaw in my hand, forcing him to look me in the eye.
‘Don’t just sit around as though there’s nothing to talk about,’ I told him, my tone harsh. I winced, softening my voice. ‘I need to know. Did anyone …’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Die?’ I bit my lip and nodded. He shook his head. ‘No. No one died. But Starden is in pretty bad shape right now. He’s still unconscious, and Lainie has been staying with him.’ He cocked his head to the side, looking as cute and innocent as a confused puppy. I sighed in annoyance, gritting my teeth as I turned my gaze toward the ceiling. Xanthias tried regaining my attention but my annoyance simply rose. Aside from an unconscious Starden, was I the only person not allowed to be released from hospital? Even Lainie was released, and she’d been in the water for far longer than I had.
My irritation eased when a slight pressure around my fingers startled me, my gaze flickering to find Xanthias’ grip warm around mine. His eyes were wide, his hair falling in his face but it didn’t seem to bother him. His jaw ticked, his mind working before my eyes. I could almost see his train of thought passing through his features.
‘I was worried about you,’ he admitted in a whisper, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. His gaze lowered to where he played with my fingers. ‘When you passed out, I didn’t know if you would be okay or not. I got scared, especially when you didn’t respond. Not even to a yell or a slap across the face. I didn’t know whether you would live or not.’ His gaze flickered up, his free hand reaching to cup my face. With slow circles, his thumb traced my cheek with such delicate softness, I imagined him thinking of me as a porcelain doll.
‘You don’t have to worry now,’ I replied, taking my hand from his grasp, even when my body screamed at me not to. ‘I’m fine. See?’ I smiled by way of answer, noting his relief. My heart fluttered like a butterfly’s wings in my chest but I pushed the feeling aside as his expression turned grave. He reached for my bedside table, taking a newspaper that he quickly flicked through. When he finally found the page he was searching for, he placed it before me and watched carefully as my reaction of shock registered across my face.
The photograph was taken in the early morning hours, mist dancing eerily over the choppy white peaks of the ocean. It was taken from a boat, the edge visible in chipped blue and red paint positioned at the bottom of the photo. Three men were bent over the side, hauling what appeared to be a long plank of ravaged wood. There were duplicates of similar planks floating throughout the water, and I only then realised that they were the remains of the boat we’d been on. The caption read, ‘Freak wave leaves freaky destruction.’ Similar photos of a smaller size were littered throughout the two-page spread, some with captions detailing what the students on the boat remembered encountering.
‘This wasn’t some kind of “freak wave,”’ Xanthias murmured, his voice low to avoid being overheard. ‘Cronus is regaining power in Tartarus. Grandmother Pearl foretold it. Hades is in recovery as we speak. The freak storm that almost called off the party? That was the night Cronus overthrew Hades. Zeus and Poseidon were working hard that night to prevent the portal of Tartarus from opening, so much so that they were unable to help Hades when Cronus called on the three descendants of Medea, . Although we don’t know their names, we do know that Cronus has a tight hold on them and that their ancient power is almost limitless.’
I frowned. ‘If Cronus is now free, why hasn’t he shown up? And how did he get through the portal if Zeus and Poseidon were preventing it from opening?’ Xanthias met my gaze, his eyes betraying the fear he felt. He held my hand tightly, and this time, I didn’t let go.
‘There are alternatives to the portal, but none of them are recorded in history,’ h
e told me. ‘I discovered through Poseidon that if there is a strong enough bond - either through an emotional connection or through blood - those trapped in Tartarus may be able to overpower the portal, therefore attuning themselves to the life essence of those they are bonded to and traveling through the portal without difficulty. However, had Medea’s descendants overrun Zeus and Poseidon, they and Hades would have been weakened. They won’t be as powerful, therefore Cronus has no need to gain revenge in a rush.’
He bit his lip, looking over his shoulder at a passing nurse. With the tip of his shoe, he quietly nudged the door shut and turned back to face me. ‘Poseidon was the cause of the wave that hit the boat last night,’ Xanthias told me in a whisper. ‘He tried to throw Cronus off the course of realising that you’re of importance by destroying the boat. However, it kind of backfired. Cronus made an appearance on a ship near the rescue boats with Medea’s descendants. I saw him.’
I fiddled with my fingers, overwhelmed by the information. It made sense, and yet, I had imagined Cronus to overthrow Poseidon, Zeus and Hades at the first chance he got. What was preventing him? I kneaded my temples with my fingertips, fighting off a migraine that pulsed through my head. Xanthias leaned toward me, his breath warm against my face. I caught the telltale scent of the ocean mixed with the scent of fresh rain, breathing in deep.
‘I contacted my mother and the others while you were unconscious,’ he murmured. ‘When you are taken home from the hospital, pack your bags and tell Chris and Nevada that you’re off for a summer break sleepover or something. Be convincing. We need to give Poseidon, Zeus and Hades time to recover, and for them to do so, we need to ensure that both of you are safe. Be ready by the beginning of the sunset. I will be waiting outside in my mother’s car.’
I opened my mouth to speak but he simply rose from his seat and planted a quick kiss on the crown of my head. As though having foretold it, he turned to the door and opened it with a bow for Chris and Nevada, their expressions mirrored in pleasant surprise. Chris was the first to recover, offering Xanthias a little smile of politeness as he took the weight of the door and held it open. Xanthias beamed, so much happier than he’d been informing me of Cronus’ escape.
‘Mr and Mrs Glass,’ he announced. ‘Have a lovely day.’
Nevada grinned, Chris’ expression reflecting hers. ‘Thank you,’ she replied, her gaze flickering to me. She offered me a wink, earning beetroot-red blush that spread from my cheeks. I felt awkward as Chris’ eyes bore into me from across the room, demanding silent answers. Xanthias excused himself quickly, leaving me to deal with the awkwardness that settled in his absence. Thankfully, though, Nevada didn’t waste time in rushing across the room and cooing over me, running her hands over my hair. She took one of my hands and squeezed so tightly that I thought my bones would snap. Chris seemed to realise and patted her hands, murmuring something along the lines of ‘release the vice.’
She mumbled an apology and stepped back, tears of relief in her eyes. It was then that I truly realise how worried they had been, and I couldn’t bring myself to continue being angry at them for hiding my adoption from Lainie and me. They had only been trying to keep us safe, much like Xanthias, Poseidon and Amphitrite were now. I looked at them both, Chris’ arm around Nevada’s shoulder and I realised for the first time since my birthday that these were my real parents. It didn’t matter that they weren’t of blood relation. All that mattered was that they loved me, and I loved them, too.
With tears in the corners of my eyes, I opened my arms wide to them and watched as Nevada’s walls broke down. The tears fell quickly, trailing down her cheeks faster than I thought was humanly possible. Even Chris - the strong, manly father of mine - eased beside his wife and hugged us. With my face buried in Nevada’s shoulder, I clung to them and breathed in their scents - spicy cologne mixed with floral perfume. This was family.
We remained like that for a while, the rain battering against the window as we cried in silence. It was only what was probably five minutes later that we were interrupted, a light tapping sounding at the door. Chris straightened and wiped away his tears quickly, only to stop immediately when he noticed it was simply Lainie. She herself had tears in her eyes, her hands wringing together in worry. I knew that she didn’t want anything to happen to Starden, regardless of how much she was using him to get to Ryker. Right then I couldn’t care less, beckoning for my sister to join us. When she crossed the room, Chris shut the door behind her and the tears fell anew.
It was well after lunch time and late into the afternoon when we finally decided it was time for us to leave. As Chris left to clean himself up and sign me out, Nevada sat on my bed and explained to Lainie and me about all those years ago, shortly after her wedding with Chris, when they’d found Lainie and me on their doorstep. She explained how she was infertile and it was ruining their marriage - how Lainie and I had been the best things to ever happen to them. When she mentioned the seaweed baskets we’d been left in, Lainie and I exchanged a glance. We both understood how we’d come to be on their doorstep, but that was the first we’d heard of seaweed baskets.
Nonetheless, we laughed along as she told us about how much of a softy Chris became because of us. She told us about how he’d disliked the seaweed baskets, but still took photos of us in them. Nevada smiled fondly as she recounted that night.
‘He was so freaked out when he heard the knock on the door, he forgot his police training and simply threw on some trousers and a baseball bat,’ she told us between giggles. ‘Though he hated those baskets and threw them out when they started to smell, he seemed impressed - though he would never admit that. When he took the photos he claimed he was documenting it for the police report he was making to try and track down your real parents. But we both knew that he was keeping them for one day when we would tell you how you came to live with us. We knew you’d be our children, even though we weren’t of blood relation. It was just meant to be.’
We smiled, as carefree as we had shared when we were younger. A moment later, we all jumped at the sound of the door creaking open and Chris poked his head in sheepishly. He had overheard us, that much was obvious, and he gestured to my bag of personal items that sat beside Nevada.
‘You might want to get dressed quickly,’ he offered. ‘There’s a break in the rain but I doubt it’ll last for long. It’d be best not to linger and get soaked. I don’t want two sick daughters after last night’s episode.’ Though his tone revealed how worried he had truly been, his smile offered only love and care for Lainie and me. Nevada stood and walked over to him, ducking under his arm and snuggling into his side. He kissed the crown of her head, bringing warmth to my cheeks as I remembered the tender gesture Xanthias had given me before they had arrived. With a bundle of fresh clothes in my hands, I excused myself and locked myself in the bathroom, a floor-to-ceiling mirror propped against the wall before me.
That was when I was blinded by light, pulsing from the amulet around my neck. My hands flew to the necklace, prying it from my skin as it burned my skin with a warning. With my mouth wide open, I stared at the light as it diminished, leaving behind a horrible red welt that left bubbles of burned skin in its wake.