Sweet Legacy (Sweet Venom) (25 page)

Greer nods. “This must be it.”

“Agreed,” Gretchen says.

“So . . .” I look from one sister to the other. “Now what?”

CHAPTER 29
G
REER

A
ll my years of service in student government, mock United Nations, and various leadership roles in clubs and activities have trained me to step up and take charge. So that’s what I do.

“First,” I say, standing and stepping away from the bench, “we need to go somewhere else.”

The last thing we need to do is have a brainstorming session right here in front of the door, where anyone and everyone can see. We need to plan and strategize without worrying that one of the factions is going to burst in on the scene.

Gretchen and Grace stand with me while Nick and Thane flank us on either side, like bodyguards.

“The marina is two blocks that way,” I say, pointing to the northeast. I smile tightly. “It’s a lovely day to watch the boats sail by.”

And figure out how to save the world without getting ourselves killed in the process. Dying again would be so anticlimactic.

We walk in silence, lost in our thoughts. I don’t know about my sisters, but my heart is racing. I feel like all of a sudden this is all too real. Certainly I’ve seen monsters before. I have been in the abyss and the dungeons of Mount Olympus and fought creatures most humans have never even imagined. But
this
? It’s the gold ring. It’s what we’ve been talking about, what we’ve been trying to do. What we’ve been risking everything to make happen. What we were born to do, literally.

It’s fairly overwhelming.

If it weren’t so important or so immediate, I might stop to wonder if we can really do it. There is fear and doubt, no matter how much I tell myself I don’t believe in either. The truth is, it doesn’t matter if I think we can. We don’t have a choice. A lot of lives are depending on us, on our success. We
have
to do it.

We reach the corner of the marina, the spot where sailboats sleep and waves from the Bay gently slap against their hulls. It’s quiet, peaceful. And we’ve come here to talk about war.

I’m not certain whether that’s ironic or simply sad.

“Before we do anything else,” Gretchen says as soon as we’re settled, “we have a decision to make. Are we opening the door?”

“What?” Grace gasps.

I meet Gretchen’s gaze. “I didn’t think that was up for debate.”

Gretchen doesn’t blink as she speaks. “Maybe it’s not,” she says, “but we are in this together. The responsibility will be ours together. We need to decide this
together
.”

“There’s nothing to discuss.” Nick looks like he wants to be sick.

“I’m sorry, Nick,” Gretchen replies, “but you don’t get a vote. We’re the Key Generation. There are other alternatives and I don’t want there to be any regrets.”

Alternatives? Gretchen is right. Even if we believe we are decided, we need to at least consider the other options. This decision will affect the rest of our lives. We need to think this through. What if we don’t open the door? What if we seal it forever or just let it seal itself through our inaction?

A picture of my life before—before I met my sisters, before I started seeing monsters again, before I knew that I had an ancient legacy to fulfill—flashes through my mind. At first, I’d thought that life was worth holding on to at all costs. Do I still want that? The success and the pressure and the twenty-year career plan?

The very thought makes me want to yawn.

“Well, I vote yes,” Grace says after the slightest hesitation. “It’s our destiny. We can’t just let all those creatures
die
.”

Those creatures—some of them—are our friends.

I think back to our time in the abyss. Sealing the door forever—and we do mean
forever
—would mean the death of every living thing inside. The Nemean lions and skorpios hybrids I’m not terribly compassionate about—I wouldn’t mind fewer run-ins with them—but the golden maiden? The oceanid? The onyx guards? Sillus?

How could I live with myself if I sacrificed countless innocent creatures for the selfish purpose of preserving my social life? I couldn’t.

Grace is right; we can’t condemn them to death for the evils of others. They are pawns in this game of the gods.

Besides, the image of the picture-perfect life I once thought I wanted doesn’t seem all that appealing anymore. New-student socials and midterm study groups have lost their allure. They’re downright boring. I’ve gotten kind of used to danger and adventure. I’m not about to give that up now.

“I agree,” I finally say. “We open the door.”

Gretchen nods, smiling like I passed a test. “Then it’s unanimous.”

Nick visibly relaxes. Did he really think Gretchen—any of us—would say no? Maybe he did. Maybe the old Gretchen would have. The Gretchen I first met, only a few weeks ago, would not have thought twice about the innocent creatures. Monsters were monsters were monsters; her only job was to send them home, by any means necessary. She’s changed a lot in a short time. We all have.

Wise choice
, the woman says.

“Oh for the love of Gucci,” I shout. “Who are you and what are you doing in my brain?”

“Um, Greer?” Grace asks.

“What?” I snap.

My sisters exchange a look. Gretchen asks, “Who were you talking to?”

Oh, just the voices in my head
—yeah, that confession would go over real well. They’re still freaked out that I might somehow rekindle my connection to Apollo. I don’t need to make them worry, not when we are at such a critical point in the prophecy.

“Then”—Grace looks at each of us—“what next?”

“Well, if we’ve interpreted the riddle correctly,” I reply, “we stand within the triangle of trees, join our blood, and the door opens.”

“Just like that?” Grace asks, skeptical.

“No,” Gretchen says, “not just like that. First, we have to battle the Olympic faction that wants to prevent us from opening the door. They will try to kill us before we have a chance to pull out the dagger.”

“They’ll have numbers on you,” Nick says. “They’ve been planning this for millennia.”

“They might not find us,” Grace suggests. “We might be able to open the door without them ever finding out.”

“Only if our luck changes,” Gretchen says.

Thane shakes his head. “They’ll find you. With Apollo on their side, it’s only a matter of time.”

Grace looks at me. “At least he isn’t magically connected to you anymore.”

Yeah, thankfully. Thankfully I died and severed that—

“Oh!” I say, remembering the message the Fates—another important trio—gave me on my visit to Hades. “There is something else we need to do before we open the door.”

“What’s that?” Gretchen asks.

“‘Fight not alone,’” I say, repeating the words of advice.

“What?” Gretchen frowns.

Grace asks, “What does that mean?”

“It’s the advice from the Fates,” I say. “I think it means we need to call for help.”

“From who?” Gretchen asks.

“The gorgons are on their way,” Grace offers.

“We’ll need more than the gorgons,” I reply. “We’ll need as much help as we can get.”

“From
who
?” Gretchen repeats.

I resist the urge to correct Gretchen’s grammar. “From everyone. From the monster realm, from our friends.” I look each of my sisters in the eye. “Right now, I have to believe that the more people we have on our side, the better.”

Grace nods like she agrees. “Before
and
after we open the door.”

Gretchen scowls, thinking.

“Both factions will have armies working against us,” Thane says.

“The more numbers we have, the better,” Nick adds.

“You’re right,” Gretchen finally says. “We need to have an army of our own.”

We agree to meet back here in an hour, with our makeshift troops gathered to our sides. We’re going to do everything we can to balance the odds.

School is in session.

When I push through the front doors of Immaculate Heart, I’m stunned to realize I don’t even know what day it is. I have no idea how many school days have passed since I last attended classes. Two? Ten? Twenty-seven? How many truancies have I accrued?

My parents are going to hear about it when they get home. Mother is adamant about a perfect attendance record—of course, Mother is adamant about many things. That used to matter to me. I used to exhaust myself trying to please her, even though I never could. Now I don’t have time to worry about something as trivial as a few unexplained absences.

The first place I check is the maintenance office on the first floor, at the end of the first hall near the front door. The door is locked, and my knocks go unanswered.

He could be anywhere in the school.

After I discovered who—
what
—I am and started seeing monsters again, I suddenly saw through the friendly school janitor’s human glamour to the furry spider inside. He knew I was a descendant of Medusa, a member of the Key Generation, and he promised to help when the time came.

Well, the time has come. And where is Harold?

As I walk past the front office, the secretary calls out my name.

“Greer,” she shouts into the hallway. “Miss Morgenthal?”

I suck in a deep breath as I stop. I don’t have time for this discussion, but the school secretary is a battle-ax. I can spare a few seconds, if only long enough to use my hypno powers to make her forget she saw me. If I don’t at least listen to her reprimand, things will only be worse later. Of course, if I die in the upcoming battle—or, rather, die
again
—I won’t be around to care. Still, this will make things easier in the long run.

I turn back to face the secretary.

“Miss Tregary,” I say, pasting a huge smile on my face. “How are you this lovely morning?”

“Fine, dear, fine,” she says, waddling out from behind her desk.

I never noticed before, but she does walk rather awkwardly. Perhaps that’s why she wears long Gypsy skirts. I always thought it was to hide really hideous legs.

“I apologize for my recent absences,” I say, trying to deflect the confrontation by confessing my wrongdoing before she can accuse me. “I’ve had some pressing outside responsibilities that I could not ignore.”

I’ve mastered nothing if not the ability to be vaguely evasive.

“I’m not worried about that, dear,” she says, waddling closer. “I’m sure ye have yer reasons.”

She reaches into her bosom and pulls out a piece of paper.

“Harold asked me to pass this along if I saw you.”

I take the note. “Um, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says. “Now ye’d best get going.”

She turns to walk back to her desk. I’m about to leave the room when I catch a glimpse of something beneath her skirt. It looks like . . . well, the tip of a lizard’s tail.

“Miss Tregary?”

She looks up as she settles back into her desk. “Yes, dear?”

For a moment, I consider asking her about it—asking her to help—but I quickly dismiss the idea. The older woman can barely walk; how could she ever help us fight?

Besides, she’s worked here for ages—longer even than Harold. She couldn’t be a monster in hiding.

I must be seeing things. I’m already hearing things—the madness is just progressing. The pressure is finally getting to me.

“Never mind,” I say, and I turn to leave.

Out in the hall, I unfold the note from Harold, written in surprisingly elegant handwriting—I would have imagined it hard for a spider monster to grip a pen.

Miss Greer,

    
I had to return home unexpectedly. If the time comes while I’m gone, please ask Miss Tregary for assistance. She can get you the help I promised.

                                
Sincerely,

                                
Harold

I fold the note back up and press my palms against my stomach. All right, maybe I
hadn’t
been seeing things. I guess I’ll have to confront Miss Tregary about her lizard tail after all. Pushing away from the wall, I turn and walk back into the office.

“Oh, Miss Tregary,” I say, with a more genuine smile on my face, “there is something I need to ask you.”

CHAPTER 30
G
RETCHEN

T
he moment Greer leaves to rally her troops, Sillus tugs on my pant leg.

“Sillus have friend,” the little monkey dude says, looking up at me with wide eyes. “Family. Lots. Go get, they help huntress.”

Nick and I exchange a questioning look. It’s not like either of us has a broad circle of friends or family to call on. If Greer is right and we need every last bit of help we can get, we don’t want to overlook his friends. Sillus has help, so we should take advantage.

Sillus directs me to the Bay Bridge underpass where I first found him and sent him home. I pull Moira up onto the sidewalk and put her in park.

There, in that abandoned lot, is a huge group of cercopes—at least two dozen little furry monkeys who look just like Sillus.

They rush us as we climb out of the car.

“Huntress!” they shout, jumping up and down to get my attention.

“Dude,” I say to Sillus, “there are so many of you.”

“Family,” he says, looking over the monkeys with pride. “Is mom”—he points to one who jumps up and waves—“dad”—another monkey bounces above the crowd—“brother, sister, niece, nephew, aunt, uncle, cousin.” The group erupts in high-pitched cheers. Turning back to me, Sillus grins. “Family.”

I almost don’t believe it. Little Sillus has a
huge
family. It seems so . . . human.

In a flash, I’m taken back to when I first met him. That moment—my conversation with the little freak—seemed so ordinary at the time. He was just another beastie, living in the wrong realm.

“All right, monkeys,” I say to the excited group. “If you want to help—”

“Yes, help.”

“Help huntress.”

“Help, help, help.”

My words drown in the sea of shouts. Nick coughs to cover up a laugh. I hold up my hand, and eventually they calm down.

“If you want to help,” I try again, giving them a glare when they look like they want to riot again, “then get in my car.”

Without hesitation, the entire group races for my Mustang. While they are climbing over each other to get inside, I look down at Sillus to find him beaming with pride.

Finding him was a turning point. He seemed so . . . innocent. Every creature I had encountered up until then had been a monster in the worst sense, intent on killing or controlling humans. Sillus just wanted to live in the city, to make his home in this empty lot and get by like any one of the city’s millions of residents.

From that moment, I looked at monsters differently. Instead of grouping them into a single black (never white) category, I started seeing shades of gray.

Since then, everything has changed. I’m proud to call some monsters my friends. And Sillus is first among them—which makes what I’m about to ask him even harder.

“Sillus,” I say, kneeling down on the ground in front of him, “I need a favor.”

I slip my arms around his tiny body and hug him. The look Nick gives me over the furry head is full of pride and understanding.

“Anything, huntress,” he says with a serious look. “Sillus do anything for huntress.”

That’s what I’m afraid of. That’s where the guilt comes in.

I sigh. “You might not want to do this.”

He scowls but says, “Anything. Swear.”

Taking in a deep breath, I say, “I need to send you back.”

I see his earnestness flicker. “Back?”

“I need you to go back,” I explain, “to let everyone know.”

“The war is coming,” Nick says. “They need to be ready.”

I nod. “We will need their help from the inside.”

Sillus jumps to his feet. “Sillus understand. Sillus help.”

I smile. It’s weird, but I’ve grown to really like the little guy. I like having him around. When my sisters and I open the door and defeat the factions on either side—because I
know
we will—maybe he’ll be able to live here full-time, without fear of being sent back again.

The risk, if we don’t succeed, is too great to even consider. I won’t let the possibility of defeat enter the realm of possibility. If he is trapped inside and we fail to open the door, he and every other creature in the abyss will die instantly.

The pressure only drives me harder.

“Thank you,” I tell him as I push aside my guilt.

We all have to take risks in this situation. We’re all in danger until it’s over, one way or another.

With a brave smile, he lifts up his foot. As I sink my fangs into him, I hope he gets there in time and that we all get through this alive.

When Sillus is gone, I sit back on my heels and sigh. There’s an uncomfortable tightness in my chest. I stare up at the underside of the bridge, taking a moment to get my emotions under control. They’re not going to help me win this war; if anything, they’ll distract me. So many people are counting on me—my sisters, our friends, our families, thousands upon thousands of people who don’t even know I exist. It’s overwhelming if I think about it too much.

Nick kneels down in front of me.

“I need to go, too.”

“What?” I ask, too shocked to hide it. “What do you mean?”

He can’t leave. He can’t abandon me. I need him. I don’t want to do this alone.

After four years of going it solo—a whole lifetime, really, if I don’t count time with my ex-parents—it’s amazing how much I’ve come to rely on others—Nick, my sisters, everyone fighting on our side in this war. Guess loner Gretchen is a thing of the past.

“It’s time for me to rally the third faction,” Nick says, “to spread the word that the prophesied time has come.”

He stands, takes my hand, and pulls me back to my feet.

“You need as many allies as you can find,” he says. “The door will not open quietly.”

As much as I know he’s right, I still don’t want him to go. But what I want has never mattered very much. Duty and destiny come first.

“Fine,” I say, nodding. I know this is what he needs to do, even though I want him at my side, where I can protect him. Then, daring to reveal some of my feelings for him, I add, “Be careful.”

He grins. Cocky bastard knows exactly how I feel.

“I will be faster than you can imagine,” he says. He reaches into the neckline of his tee and pulls out a necklace. It’s very old-looking—ancient, even—a heavy gold chain with a pendant at the end: a single feathered wing. He holds it up to catch the sun. “A gift from Hermes.”

I reach out to touch it, but then I pull back. Last time one of us touched a godly pendant, her brain almost exploded and she became telepathically connected to a god. No thanks.

“Protect yourself,” I say, echoing back the words he said to me when he left the abyss, “until you’re back at my side and I can do it myself.”

There I go, exposing those feelings again.

“I will,” he answers.

I look into his midnight blue eyes. “Promise?”

Instead of responding, he cups the back of my neck and presses his mouth to mine. My eyes fall shut and I focus on the sensation—warm, firm, and full of promise. If I could freeze myself in one moment in time, it would be this one. My sisters and I have accomplished so much already, and we’re about to risk our lives to save countless others. But right now, in this moment between pride and fear, held by the boy I’m pretty sure I’m growing to love, I’m tempted to pull him closer and forget the rest of the world. I have to force myself back to reality.

I push against his shoulders.

His eyes glow with the same fire running through my veins.

“I will meet you back at the marina before you leave to open the door.”

Then he grabs the wing pendant in his fist, whispers something in a language I don’t understand, and vanishes into the ether. He was right—that was fast.

I stand there for a few moments, just breathing in and out, while the tingle in my lips fades. When it’s gone, I finally turn and walk back to my car full of monkeys—I’ll have to give Moira an extra-special bath once this is all over. The time for romance and fantasy is gone. I have to earn the right to bring it back.

The war is about to begin—my sisters and I are going to start it. And if we want to finish it, we’re going to have to be heavily armed when we do.

“Come on, monkeys,” I say. “Time to find some weapons.”