Chapter 36

Opal was slow to answer the knock on the door, more co-workers of her father coming to give their condolences she was sure. She'd had enough of painting on a false face. With a deep breath she prepared herself to force a smile, but she wasn't met with a fisherman that knew her dad, she was met with a white rose, blooming in her face.

"You doing okay?" she looked up to the flower's presenter and didn't have to force the smile.

"Mmm," she gingerly took the flower from Herry's hand and gestured for him to come inside, "You know this flower looks suspiciously similar to the ones growing in your Granny's front yard."

"Does it?" he clasped his hands behind his back, rocked back on the heels of his feet and looked up to the ceiling while he whistled. She smiled again and brought the rose under her nose to smell.

"Come upstairs?" she asked and rose up on the first step. He nodded and followed her to a small room overlooking the ocean. Rye jumped off the purple comforter neatly spread over the bed, leaving a patch of black fur where she was nestled. She came over to lick Opal's hand and then greeted Herry in the same manner.

"Your room?" he asked, though obviously it was. There was a guitar on a stand in the corner of the room, a salamander drawn on with a black sharpie. She set the rose down on her desk with an assortment of music sheets and then dropped onto the purple comforter on her bed. Her window was huge, taking up half the wall. It was open at the moment, letting in the sound of the wind and the waves. She leaned her head back on the sill she gestured for him to join her.

"Thanks for coming by," she said, "It's been kind of lonely lately."

"Where's your mom?" he sat on the edge of the bed, one leg folded in front of him and the other still touching the ground,

"She's in the basement most of the time, all her recording stuff is there, I figure she's distracting herself," she shrugged and looked up to the roof, "My cousin has been spending more time at the university."

"Mmm," he said. What was he doing here? He didn't know what to say to her, he had no idea what she was going through. Tears were beginning to glisten in her eyes, threatening to fall. She turned away from him to rub her eyes. He sighed and looked over to her guitar, after a moment of consideration he reached over to grab the acoustic instrument.

"Play me something?" he asked softly.

"Mmm," she nodded and held her hands out for the instrument. She watched her hand on the neck of the guitar as she strummed. Out of the corner of his eye Herry noticed Rye lie down and drift into sleep. He smirked, yeah, Orpheus' descendant. She looked over to him expectantly when she finished.

"Amazing as always," he smiled and shifted over to her, taking the guitar he set it on his lap and said, "Now teach me something."

She sent him a doubtful look.

"Hey, don't look at me like that," he exclaimed, "It can't be that hard, right?"

"We'll see," she smiled and bit her lip, scooting away from the wall she sat directly in front of him so she could point to the frets and strings she wanted him to place his fingers on to make a certain chord. When he strummed it and it rang out true she taught him another chord. She had him strum out the three chord sequence and as any beginner did, he had trouble switching from chord to chord.

"How do you do it so quickly?" he asked.

"It just becomes muscle memory over time," she said taking the guitar back to demonstrate the sequence she just taught him.

"Kay, let me try again," he held out his hands and bent his finger back towards himself. She handed it over and he slowly placed his fingers down to create the first chord.

"Tell you what," she smiled at him and shifted over to sit beside him, she pulled his hand off the guitar's neck and formed the chord herself, "you strum and I'll worry about the part that requires actual skill."

"Hey," he said in mock offence, but fell into a comfortable position to allow her free rein on the neck of the guitar. Resting his hand palm down on the mattress to the far side of the girl he asked, "You ready?"

"Yeah," she said and he strummed in a simple rhythmic pattern. She watched her hand and he watched her. She started singing, quietly at first but as the song progressed she got louder. She dropped her hand when the song finished and leaned into him as she laughed lightly, "We could go professional."

"Oh yeah," he played along, "We'd sell out every show."

"And don't forget the platinum records," she shot him up a smile. His smile dropped as he watched her face. His heart began to race and his stomach jumped into his throat, suddenly very aware of how close she was, tucked up under his arm. He could feel her warmth against his side. Her smile fell as well, but she didn't look away. His eyes were drawn down to her slightly parted full lips. Opal cleared her throat and turned her head down. He jumped back with a frustrated hum, what was he doing? She just lost her father, there was sure to be a million things whirling around inside her head, she did not need him to kiss her right now.

"Opal," he sighed and she looked back to him in curiosity, "I didn't want you to get dragged into all this. I'm sorry it didn't work out that way."

"Don't be," she reached out a hand to place on his knee, "Finally I can stop wondering about how you managed to bust my lock."

He sighed out a laugh and shook his head. He leaned his elbow on the windowsill and brushed his fingertips over his lips, focusing his vision on the ocean. Letting out a shallow breath he asked, "What happened down there."

"Ah," she stiffened. Her heart began to race with the image of those red eyes and yellow teeth, the pressure of the darkness all around, "I don't want to go back anytime soon."

Herry looked over to study her for a quick moment, looking back through the window he said, "It wasn't as simple as you were expecting."

She was quiet. Holding her breath and closing her eyes to fight away the fear. When she trusted herself to speak she shook her head and whispered, "No."

"It never is," he said, a graveled edge to his voice she wasn't accustom to hearing, he cleared his throat and flashed her a warm smile, "It doesn't matter now, I know you couldn't get your father, but at least you're back."

"Did you think I wouldn't come back?" she asked, a panic gripping her chest.

He didn't answer.

"Oh my god," she pressed her fingertips into her forehead, her breathing hitching, "I could have died. What was I thinking?"

"You weren't," he said, "I know how it feels. You don't think, you just do, especially when it's for someone you love."

"Don't let me do anything so stupid again," she said.

He huffed out a laugh and said, "Doing stupid things for people in trouble, it's in your blood. I can't stop you, hell I'd probably help you."

"What do you mean?" she asked, sending him a curious gaze.

"You're a hero, like Orpheus was."

"A hero?" she muttered under her breath. She never thought anyone would ever label her with that title. She was the quiet girl that would rather spend her Saturday afternoons with her instruments than people. Herry, there was no question in her mind he was every letter of the word. She saw what he did with that scorpion, he was agile and quick. He knew what his body was capable of, how to use it as a tool to get the results he wanted. He didn't freeze because of fear, it didn't muddle his brain, she could even argue it made him more resourceful.

"Hey," he reached over a hand to ruffle her hair, "Get that look off your face. I like it better when you smile."

"How do you deal with it?" she asked.

"What?"

"Everything you see," she said.

He laughed and shrugged, "I don't know. I never really thought about it. I've just always, I don't know, accepted it."

"Well you're a bundle of help," she said, "I guess I'll just sleep with all the lights on for the rest of my life."

"What's that thing they say about facing fear to overcome them?" he said, waving his hand through the air to prompt a response from her.

"Bullshit," she said, tossing out her arms as she exclaimed, "I use to tell myself it was just my imagination when I thought there was something hiding in the dark. Now I know there really are things that hide in the dark."

He smiled, but his conscious pricked at him again, if it wasn't for him she still wouldn't know.

"It's cool," she took in a deep breath and folded her hands neatly on her lap, "I'm sure it will seem less crazy after a while. Someday I'll be able to leave the closet doors open again and leave the shower curtain shut when no one is using it."

He smirked, looking up he said with genuine sincerity, "If you ever need anyone to talk to about this, I'll be here." She gave him a small smile and nodded. Looking through her window to the ocean she fell silent for a while. She took her hand back from his knee and began twisting her fingers together as she thought.

"Herry?" she said softly, keeping her eyes cast outside.

He looked to her and waited for her to continue, when she didn't he prompted with a, "Yes?"

"I'm tired of this, of feeling like this," she sighed and looked down to her hands, "but every time I try to go out or do something and start to feel more normal I just get overwhelmed with this guilt. I should have saved him, but I couldn't, I shouldn't be allowed to feel happy."

"Opal, there was nothing –"

"I know," she cut him off, "It is stupid and I hate myself for it, but I know. I don't want you to hear you try to make me feel better, I just want someone to know."

He didn't say anything at first, he was afraid to say anything. With a small smile he reached out a finger to tilt up her chin, when her teary eyes flickered up to his he asked, "Maybe we could go out and do something again, try to get the ending right this time."

"Yeah?" she asked, the corners of her lips pulling up just slightly.

"Yeah," he said, shooting her a bright smile.

"What?"

"I don't know, I didn't think that far," he said, taking his hand back, "I'll get back to you tomorrow on that."

"Sure," she gave him a real smile and rubbed the wetness from her eyes.

"What happened to your violin anyways?" he asked, "You didn't come back with it."

"Had to give it to Charon," she told him.

"Ah, that burns," he nodded with a knowing grin.

"Mmm," she nodded in agreement and laughed a little. With a sigh she reached up a hand for his shoulder, kneading her thumb into the muscle above his collar bone, "Thanks so much for coming by Herry."

"No problem," he said, forcing himself to keep cool under her touch, somehow hide the hammering of his heart. She smiled and invited herself onto his lap. He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, freezing as she settled her head down against his chest. It took him a moment to relax again against the wall. Gingerly he wrapped his arms around her and welcomed her warmth as his own. This was actually quite comfortable, he realized once his nerves settled. He hummed out a content sigh and leaned his chin on top of her head. He could get use to this.

Theresa and Jay walked down the dimly lit alleyway to the decrepit man sitting on a stool beside a magazine stand. The Oracle smiled and welcomed them without looking up from the article he was reading.

"That always weirds me out," Jay leaned over to whisper in Theresa's ear.

"Oracle," she ignored Jay and returned the greeting.

"What brings you here?"

"We just had a question Oracle," Jay said.

"We've met another descendent," Theresa said, "and we were just wondering if she could help us at all in the battle with Cronus. She brought back her father from the underworld."

"Oracle," Jay said, holding out the old tarnished pendent he had taken from her weeks ago, "I was thinking we could use her skills to distract Cronus, give us an opening to push him through a trap."

"Hmm, ah, yes, a descendent of Orpheus," he said in thought, "she's very talented, yes. I see a very calming aura. Very calm." With that he handed the pendent back.

"Huh?" Jay exchanged glances with Theresa.

"Is that all?" the Oracle asked.

"But Oracle," Theresa piped, "what about the question."

"That is what I see to your question," he said, ever patient, "calmness."

"Okay, thank you," Jay said and whispered into Theresa's ear as they turned, "I think."

"What do you think that means?" Theresa asked as they strolled off back from where they had come.

"I don't know, maybe it just means there's always calmness around her, she does seem like a peaceful person," Jay offered.

"Maybe it means the calmness of when Cronus is back in Tartarus," Theresa said. Jay hummed in reluctant agreement. They walked back to the brownstone together in tense silence. The anniversary of their fight with Cronus was closing in on them fast. School was ending for the Christmas break at the end of the week, seventeen days burned red on Jay's calendar.