Chapter 9 – Grey #2
The forest is quiet once more, strangely still after the violent winds and fighting.
Celaeno turns slowly around and walks toward me. When she kneels down, I can see tears rolling down her face. “Are you okay?”
Reaching out, she takes my arms. A few stray black lines remain, but otherwise, I look normal. If only I felt normal. She traces the lines and then presses her hand against them, closing her eyes.
Tingles run through my body. But it isn’t magic. It’s her touch. It’s having her this close to me, in the darkness, touching me.
When her eyes open, her gaze locks with mine. “You’ll be okay. The marks will be gone by morning.”
My mouth feels funny when I try to speak. “Thanks.”
She moves and struggles for a ridiculously long time to help me sit up. I’m almost laughing by the time she gets me up and wraps my arm around her shoulder.
“Maybe call the guys,” I mumble out, amused.
She raises a brow at me. “Do you think I’m a moron? I tried to get them over here when I woke up and realized something was wrong. Aello wasn’t working alone; she cast some kind of sleep spell. Luckily for you, spells don’t work as well on me.”
So that’s why they weren’t here. I’m just now realizing that with all the wind and the shouting, they should’ve been here in an instant.
“So,” she continues, “we’re going to have to work together to drag your heavy self back to camp.”
I look at the tiny woman, still huffing and puffing from helping me sit up. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”
Again, she raises a brow. “I’m stronger than I look.”
“I’m heavier than I look.”
Her annoyance melts away, and a smile teases her lips. “Then what’s your suggestion, genius?”
“Stay here.”
She studies me. “I guess my sister won’t be back… so it should be safe.”
I say nothing, just continue to stare at her.
“Do you… do you want me to leave you here and go back with the others?”
No. Why in the hell would I want that? “I’m vulnerable like this.”
“Of course!” she says, shaking her head. “You need me here. Okay, I’ll stay. I just didn’t think you’d want me—but yeah, you need me.”
As she lays me back down, I’m kind of surprised by how I feel. It hurts that after saving my life she still felt like I wouldn’t want her here.
I mean, I don’t, right? She’s still a monster. Nothing’s changed. Has it?
Despite my thoughts, she lays down beside me, my arm under her head. Overhead, the stars shine brightly down on us.
“Thanks for saving me. You didn’t have to.”
I don’t know why I say it, but I feel like it needs to be said.
She shrugs against me. “I wasn’t going to let her just kill you, for your sake and hers.”
“Hers?” I ask, shocked.
She nods. “Aello isn’t bad. She’s just… lost.”
What is it with this woman and seeing the good in everyone? Is it because of who she is, or what she is?
Either way, I can’t decide if it’s a trait I’m starting to find endearing rather than annoying. Actually, I kind of do think it’s endearing. How can a being who has lived as long as she has and been through as much as she has still be able to see the good in everyone?
I feel like I’m the opposite. Which is the logical way to be.
“You think your crazy sister is just lost? She wanted me to kill you.”
She laughs. “She has threatened to kill me since we were kids. But you know what? She’s powerful, and she has a lot of powerful friends. If she actually wanted me dead, I would be. I think she more so lashes out, trying to make everyone as miserable as she is.”
“And yet you still wanted to help her…”
She’s silent for a long time, but then shifts, resting her hand on my chest. “Do you know what the Underworld is like?” She shivers against me, and I wish I could wrap my arms around her. “There’s so much darkness, so much hatred and anger. Do you know what a Shade is?”
“No.”
“A creature born from something violent. The gods use these creatures to get revenge on murderers. That’s just one of the creatures that haunt the Underworld.” She takes a shaky breath. “And there’s Cerberus—“
“The three-headed hell hound?”
She leans up over me and grins. I hate how just looking at her makes my heart race. “Cerberus isn’t a three-headed hell hound. She’s just a woman.”
Anger flashes inside of me. “Like Lamia.”
Her smile falters. “Cerberus was a child.
The daughter of Hades. On her birthday, he dragged her out of bed, stood her in front of the gate, and put a collar around her throat with a massive chain attached to it.
“ She tugs at her own collar, and I wince.
“A collar like this one, probably made by that asshole Hephaestus.”
“It was,” I say, surprised when I feel an unexpected wave of guilt.
“Well,” she continues. “Imagine being a child, running downstairs for your birthday gift, and becoming your dad’s prisoner. Tasked with keeping all the Undead in the Underworld.” She stares at me, as if waiting.
“Well, maybe he thought a hellhound was too dangerous—“
“No,” she interrupts. “I was there. Cerberus was just a sweet, little shifter. She didn’t deserve that. And now, now she’s talked about by people like you like she’s a monster.”
“So, she’s not the least bit dangerous?” I ask, unable to stop myself from challenging her.
Her gaze locks with mine. “We all have a little monster in us when we have to fight that hard to survive.”
I hate that what she says rings true, because it challenges everything I’ve ever been taught. In my mind, I go through the monsters I’ve killed in my lifetime. I remember the battles. The blood. And my injuries.
Monsters are dangerous. Anything capable of that kind of destruction is. So why do I keep picturing a little girl chained to the Underworld? Why do I imagine Celaeno defending me against her sister?
“So you saved me to protect your sister?”
“No, I stopped her because you don’t deserve to die, even though you want me dead.
And I didn’t hurt her because she doesn’t deserve to die for trying to kill you.
We’re all powerful semi-immortals. Unless someone cuts off our heads, we’ll live forever.
We’re also all dangerous in our own ways, so I don’t think it’s my responsibility to determine who lives and who dies.
All I can do is try to keep the people I care about safe.
And keep them from doing anything I think they’ll regret one day. ”
The people she cares about? Is she talking about me or her sister? Either way, neither of us deserves her loyalty.
“You’re a strange woman.”
She laughs and lies back down beside me. “I know. A lot of people think my perspective makes me weak. Or a doormat. And maybe sometimes I don’t know the right moments to speak up, or when to stay silent. But I have a long life to learn. Hopefully.”
“I’m always ready for a fight.”
“I noticed,” she says, but her voice is kind. “But we all deal with sadness and loss differently.”
There’s that word again. Sad. But was she talking about me or herself? “Are you sad? Did you lose something?”
She shivers and curls closer to my body. “Yes.”
What did she lose? What’s she sad about? But I don’t ask. All of this has been too much. I’m not supposed to get to know this harpy. I’m not supposed to feel any empathy for her or the other monsters.
And I don’t.
So knowing the truth about her history shouldn’t matter.
Should it?
Then, after the briefest pause, she continues. “But I’m doing better, because I forgave them. And forgiving someone doesn’t mean you forget what they did. Forgiving them doesn’t even have to be for them, it can be for you.”
I won’t forgive Lamia. Never. And this monster doesn’t have the right to even suggest it.
“I’m tired,” I tell her gruffly.
She tenses against me. “Okay, good night then.”
Turning, she faces the other direction, away from me. I tell myself I don’t care if I hurt her feelings. I don’t care that she feels warm and soft beside me, or that I long to wrap myself around her as she shivers in the chill of the night.
Because it doesn’t matter. None of this does. I’m a soldier. A warrior. And I have a job to do. A town to save from a bunch of crazed birds, and a harpy to kill when I’m finished with her.
Yet I stay awake for a long time staring at the stars and feeling smaller than I ever imagined possible.