14. Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
Corre
“ W e are so glad you made it out today,” a god Corre didn’t recognize addressed the crowd. He was a stocky male of medium build with tight black curly hair. He wore pearl-white robes that shimmered in a kaleidoscope of pastel colors when he moved, like the inside of a seashell. “As you know, we will be crowning Apollo and Artemis with their rightful titles and welcome them to our grand jury here on Olympus.
Artemis smiled in the most over-the-top manner Corre had ever seen, showing all her teeth and waving to the crowd. She was always one for attention and theatrics. Her bright, blonde curls bobbed as she joined her brother at the front of the stage. Corre rolled her eyes. “Kill me now.” A couple of gods in front of her turned around, shooting her a disapproving glance before returning their gazes to the stage. Corre’s face turned hot. Oops. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
Theron snorted next to her, and she glowered at him. “You find that funny?” she whispered, and he shook his head. His hand was covering his lips, but she could tell he was smiling from the crinkles in the corners of his eyes. As the announcer continued, Theron’s snort turned into a string of chuckles, and suddenly, Corre was laughing, too. “Stop it. People are going to stare at us.”
“No, they won’t. They’re too busy looking at little miss and mister priss up there.” She bit her tongue and tried not to laugh. Why are things always funnier when you’re not supposed to laugh? The rest of the ceremony went the same way. Theron whispering sarcastic remarks, and Corre trying not to burst out laughing.
“I would like to thank every single one of you for coming out here tonight. I know it took us a little longer than we would have liked, but—” Artemis fanned her face as if holding back tears—“we made it. Thank you.” The crowd roared with applause and whistles, and Artemis wiped the corners of her eyes and waved, mouthing ‘thank you’ over and over.
Corre bristled. It had only been a week since Artemis and Apollo turned twenty. The twins stood up on stage—Apollo silent and Artemis waving to adoring admirers—and acted like they were late. Did everyone else think they had been late receiving their titles? If they did, what would they think of her? And Phineas?
At least everyone likely knows Phineas is ready. I’m nowhere close to my coronation, and my birthday is in a month.
Someone nudged her shoulder, but she assumed it was an accident as everyone started piling out of the Square. When it came again, she looked to her right. “Are you okay?” Theron looked down at her with a frown, and she wondered if he would have asked her if he hadn’t taken that potion.
“I’m okay. I just need to go home. You should, too. Everyone’s potions and wines will be wearing off soon. They may start questioning what the enormous god in the tattered robe’s identity is.”
She swallowed the lump growing like a rising ball of dough in her throat and headed out the silvery entrance, trying her best to leave Artemis’s stupid speech and idiotic admirers behind her. How could anyone fall for that fake charm?
Her hands balled up in fists, but about halfway home, the anger swelling in her turned into pain, and tears stung her eyes. When she could finally see her house, she let the tears fall.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
She let out a sharp gasp and whipped around. In the middle of the empty field, only a few paces from her cottage, was Theron, his face illuminated by the rising moon. He’d pulled back his hood at some point and unpinned his hair. “Have you been following me this whole time?”
“Yes?” He said it like she was supposed to have known.
She couldn’t fight the tears she’d already allowed to stream down her face, but she couldn’t handle him teasing her about them right now, much less talk about what was troubling her. Especially if that black potion was still in his system. “You should go back to Tartarus.” She didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t want to look at anyone. She just wanted to curl up in bed and pretend she didn’t exist.
The air in the field was vastly different from the stuffy air of the Square. The atmosphere was clean and quiet, and the rustling of leaves in the surrounding trees eased some of the tension in Corre’s chest. At least out here she was alone, and as soon as Theron left, she could cry without anyone watching and then try again tomorrow.
“Here.” She looked up and saw the hairpins in his palm. They looked like splinters in his giant hand.
“Thanks,” she said quickly, swiping the pins without meeting his gaze. When he didn’t reply, and a few more seconds ticked by, she turned around and kept walking. She had to get there before more tears slid down her face. No one could see her like this, especially not him.
“Thank you,” he said. She stopped. The words were soft and looped around her, tugging her to him like a lasso. “I didn’t think I’d ever be able to experience something like that.”
She turned and saw him looking off into the forest. She couldn’t be sure from the darkness of the night, but she thought there was something sad in his expression. Strands of his hair fluttered away from his long face, feathered from the wind. Somehow it was even blacker than the sky.
“Theron, I—" She began but was cut off by a thunderous voice splintering through the air. It was coming from the woods, whispering through the fingers of branches and rapidly soaring through the field. Theron’s eyes widened. He stumbled as he turned toward the voice, almost falling into Corre. A pucker formed between her thin eyebrows as she processed the fear on his face.
Fear. In Hades .
“What are you doing?” the voice growled, followed by a long, unsettling buzzing.
A coldness settled in the air, making Corre’s skin crawl. She staggered to the side, expecting to see the source of the demonic voice, but no one was there. She could feel a presence but saw no indication of one.
“I-I needed to come back and investigate what I—”
“You dare lie to me, boy?”
“No! I’m telling the truth! I—”
“Get back here at once!”
The stale air pricked Corre’s skin, clawing its way to her bones.
It all disappeared as quickly as it came. The voice. The chill. The low hum like crackling static. The two stood frozen in place, Corre’s heart unexpectedly racing as she waited for Theron’s next move.
“I . . .” she started, but her voice failed her, almost like the words had been stolen from her tongue. From what had been left by that odd, unsettling presence.
She half-expected Theron to turn around and carry on with his act of coy intimidation, but the only movement he made was a slight flinch before moving forward. She stared at the back of his head, the flowing inky black curls.
“Wait!” she called out, and she couldn’t believe the word had come from her. He stopped. Her heart continued racing. “What . . . what was that? Are . . .” She wanted to ask him if he was okay, but why should she care? He was a beguiling murderer. This was probably all linked to some master plan. Maybe he was making her care for him so he could betray her somehow.
He tilted his head to look at her, and her heart stopped. His eyes were still wide— wild —with fear. His mouth was a tight line, and his light skin was even paler than usual, as if he’d lost any ounce of color his body had possessed.
“I have to go,” he said, but the words weren’t strong or calculated like they usually were. They were quiet. Vulnerable.
Terrified.
“But I thought you came here for a reason. Did your mentor not send you?” Worry flooded her voice. Something inside her head screamed What are you doing? That’s Hades!
His gaze fell. “I don’t know why I came.”
“What?” she whispered, but before she could question him further, he was gone. The air was colder and suddenly suffocating. But there was no one. Only her.
As she stared into the empty space Theron once stood, all she could do was stand there, trying to understand what had just happened and why that voice sounded so eerily familiar.