Chapter 19. Alva: Look At Me, See Me, Say I'm Sorry
There are several types of silences. There's a comfortable silence. The one that you feel no need to fill with pointless words and thoughts. These are the ones that used to come naturally to me and Ethan. We would sit for hours just being there. The mere knowledge that the other person was within touching range was enough to satisfy any need we had for words.
Then there was the building sense of everything around you being smothered. The calm before the storm. The shush that makes your skin prickle uncomfortably. That sense you get when you just know something is wrong. When everything is your body is bracing itself, when every neuron in your head is screaming 'Run. Run. Run.' Sometimes I wished I had listened. These silences were usually ended with the low growl from Ethan as he came towards me. Then there would be a thump. Maybe a crash, depending on where we were. A few cracks, if Ethan was particularly pissed. What I did do make him angry varied: from my utter and complete failure to steal something to eat or I stole something he didn't like or maybe I looked at someone I wasn't supposed to look at. Sometimes he just hit me to vent. I suppose I did something wrong then too. I must have. Somehow.
Then there were awkward pauses. When I didn't know what to say to make the frown on Ethan's princely face disappear. When I stopped in the middle of a sentence for fear it would infuriate him. When I stared at anything but Ethan as he tried to make me smile or do whatever was it that he wanted me to do that day. These hushes never ended well.
Finally there were quiet moments that were like impenetrable walls. After a particularly violent episode, these walls would silently build around Ethan and me, suffocating us slowly. There wasn't anything to say and yet every need to say something. These are the kind of times that make you suppress your thoughts and emotions, when all you can hear is the ever steady beat of your heart. When time seems to freeze around you and hang above you like a sharp, pointy icicle about to brain you.
Right now, that was the kind of silence we were experiencing.
I stared at the wall opposing me, drinking in what had just happened. Perseus Jackson was officially gone. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. He was always just the demigod the loners whispered about in the safety of their temporary camps or when one stray demigod met another. Even we lost demigods had a gossip grapevine. It always helped to stay up to date on the recent happenings in the half-blood world. After all, you never knew what the latest threat in our world was. The war had proved that. Sometimes the news was leaked by a camper. Sometimes by someone who was lucky enough to bump into Hermes. But we always knew what was going on.
Percy had been received with mixed reactions. Initially, we dismissed him as another golden boy of the Olympians. Some of the more bitter half-bloods hated him, despised that he was lucky enough to be claimed, making through quest after quest without dying, without failing. Then, other parts of the story began coming out. How he traveled to the Underworld to save his mom. How he accepted a monster as his little brother and a dozen other noble, brave and generally just plain good things he did.
When I met Ethan, he used to shoot his mouth off about how Percy was just another self-absorbed hero. We used to argue all day about that. 'Actions speak louder than words' I used to say. These arguments stopped later on when every breath I took was in fear of angering Ethan. After he left I was free to form my own opinions once more.
The clincher was when Percy turned down immortality in exchange for justice to all gods, major and minor alike. That is the reason the number of stray demigods halved. That is the reason I could now walk into every place that previously would have at least one lone half-blood seeking shelter, and find it completely and utterly empty.
He mattered, I decided. Percy's death mattered to me. But I confused me too. If Perseus Jackson is dead, who was the hero mentioned in the prophecy? What was the quest even for? What was his sword doing in some forest reserve out west? I had as many questions as Vanessa always had brimming over in my head but I kept them reined in. I was never one to break silences, especially one as intense as this.
I looked around, waiting. Connor was slumped on the bed, stunned. His usually ridiculously bright, mischievous eyes were dull. Shoulders slumped, he sat on the bed quietly, not making any attempt to crack some dumb joke or trip someone up. His stillness felt unnatural to me. Connor was the type of guy that was never as stationary as this. He was always moving. He had to be in motion. Every muscle in his body called for it, every instinct ingrained in his being.
I clenched and unclenched my hands, hesitating. I was never one for comfort. Awkwardly, I moved my arm that felt like a freaking electric pole and rested a hand lightly on his shoulder. Connor's head snapped up, navy eyes drilling right into mine. I blinked, taken back by their sudden intensity. It wasn't right; someone like Connor should never have to look that sad.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, finally breaking the silence. I was surprised at myself. For a moment I felt awkward when there was no reply. Then, Connor shook his head, wordlessly.
"I just can't believe it," he whispered back, his voice hoarse. I mean, that guy went through so much, he nearly died every year and he had the curse of Achilles' for god's sake, he can't just die." I stepped back as Connor got up and began pacing the floor angrily. I bit my lip. I hated this feeling, this inability to do anything.
"I still can't believe it," Di Angelo muttered from the bed, where he was still slumped like some pathetic loser. "He wasn't there, he wasn't at the Underworld. My dad would have told me- I think he would have. There has to be some mistake". He went on that way, with Vanessa murmuring consolations beside him. I don't know what that girl sees in him. He was a spoiled, self-absorbed brat. At least that was what I thought until he decided to let the fact that I was the daughter of his father's nemesis just slide by. Maybe he was planning to rub it in later
"You can't believe it? A freaking child of the death god can't believe it?" Connor whirled around to face Di Angelo. He was angry, I could tell from the way he clenched his jaw and how every muscle in his body seemed to tense up. Vanessa and Di Angelo stared at him, dumbfounded. I froze, this was bad. Connor and Di Angelo usually got along okay, so what was happening here? "What kind of pathetic wimp are you anyway?" Connor went on.
"Well at least I tried looking for him!" Di Angelo was on his feet now. Great, Connor had bruised his ego and now he just had to start his fight. Not that I agreed with Connor venting his feelings out this way.
"Where? In your freaking palace?" Connor shot back. Vanessa was trying to hold Di Angelo back. She managed pretty well for someone so strong. I stepped closer to Connor, ready to stop any foolish movements. This was hardly the time for a fist fight. Or any other kind of fights.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see the other satyrs openly staring. I didn't blame them. We must fascinate them with our shows of violence. Juniper had stopped sobbing. She gripped the Lord of the Wild's hand tightly and stared at us, shocked. The Lord of the Wild, or Grover as I heard them calling him, was still motionless. The centaur, Chiron, had finally wiped that infernal look of sadness of his face and replaced with surprise.
Di Angelo stepped forward, dragging Vanessa along with him. I whipped my head from one boy to another. Should I do something? Can I? I'd give it a try, I decided. What was the worst that could happen?
"Connor, you moron," I hissed. "What in Hades do you think you're doing?" This seemed to help a little. The fury in his eyes was quenched and in its place was a glimmer of surprise. He shook his head, dazed.
"Sorry, I kinda lost it there for a moment," Connor grinned. His smile was slow but it was a smile nonetheless. I felt relieved, standing there with my back to Di Angelo and Vanessa.
"Right." I answered. "Well once Death Boy gets his crap together we can-" I never got to complete my sentence. I couldn't even remember what I was going to say. I heard a whizzing noise behind me, like something was moving through the air very fast. I turned around. The last thing I heard was Vanessa's cry of indignation before a pale fist filled my vision. Then, darkness swallowed me.
I woke to the sound of raised voices. Hardly the first time but now there was a definite tension in the air. The voices sounded far away, covered by a ringing in my ears. There were spots swimming across my eyes and I could fill something wet on my face. I felt like I always did after Ethan had a particularly violent episode, had his way with me and left to argue with some unfortunate fool passing by. I felt tired. I felt shaken. But most of all, I felt weak.
I pulled myself up shakily, hating his feeling of fatigue in my limbs. Shaking off my dizziness, I tried to recall what had happened. Di Angelo. The brat must have hit me. I stood shakily, anger giving me the strength to rise. For a moment, I swayed unsteadily. Then, there was someone there to support me. It was a strange feeling, having someone grasp my shoulders and guide me to a bed. Normally, I woke alone. But these were hardly normal times.
"Are you okay?" Connor muttered in my ear as he led me to a bed slowly. I started to nod but stopped when the room started to spin. Behind me, I could hear Vanessa yelling at Di Angelo.
"Have you utterly lost you mind?" Vanessa said at the top of her voice. I winced. "Why did you have to go and hit her for?" She was yelling at Di Angelo for me, I realized. Vanessa was yelling at a boy who swept her off her feet for me. That was… sweet. I felt a little strange. No one ever did something like that for me before.
"Alva?" Connor's cerulean eyes looked worried. I tried to smile reassuringly at him but judging from the alarm in Connor's face it didn't help. Hardly surprising since I didn't exactly smile all that often. "Here," Connor pressed something white and soft to my mouth. "It'll stop the bleeding." What bleeding? I wanted to ask. Connor pressed and I jerked back in surprise as a jolt of pain shot through me. "Sorry, sorry," he muttered. I looked down, my eyes widening in surprise as I saw blood covering Connor's orange shirt.
"You're bleeding," I said slowly, still a little dazed. The words sounded funny as they came out of my mouth. I wanted to get on my feet and go beat the crap out of Di Angelo but I wasn't sure if my legs would hold me.
"I'm not bleeding, you are," Connor took another of those white things, a towel I realized, and pressed them to lips again. The pain had lessened now, what had felt a knife of pain was now only a dull throb. The brat must have spilt my lip. Idiot. Jerk. As I was sending venomous thoughts to Death Boy, the world slowly stopped spinning and I was able to think clearly again. I noticed that Connor seemed to have trouble looking at my face.
Disappointment coursed through me. I didn't know why I had expected any different. I was after all the daughter of a traitor whose spells probably killed some of his friends. Why would his reaction to my parentage be any different from all those campers out there?
"Connor," my voice was hardly a whisper. From the corner of my eyes, I noticed my hair turning a dark blue, the color of the sea on a stormy night, from a bright angry red. Connor looked at me, his cheeks red. "I'm sorry," I continued. Connor's navy eyes widened.
"What for?" he demanded. The anger in his voice surprised me.
"For yelling at you, just now. For making you do this," I waved at the blood-stained towels he was holding. "For last night. For not telling you about..." I faltered. "Not telling you about who I really am. For lying." By the gods, in less than three days I seemed to have committed a lot of crimes against this child of Hermes.
"Alva," Connor sounded stunned. "You don't need to apologize for all that crap. I totally get why you did it. I mean, I should be the one apologizing. What with that mess with the paint and Jenna-" He broke off as I shook my head hard, ignoring the stars dancing around my now amber head.
"No, that wasn't your fault. I-| He cut me off, pressing the towel to my mouth again, muffling my complaints.
"Fine. Can we stop apologizing now? It's getting kind of weird." Connor met my eyes, his own sparkling mischievously. I stopped mid-protest. For a moment, we just looked at each other. Then, I threw back my head and laughed. He joined me.
Our laughter silenced everyone else in the room. They stared at us surprised. We both fell silent, Connor looking a little guilty. The satyrs even shot us angry looks. I bowed my head. Their leader was in some sort of coma and here we are laughing. I glanced at Vanessa and Di Angelo, who seemed to have made up. They were talking in low voices. Di Angelo reached out and touched Vanessa's hand. She blushed. I rolled my eyes. Those two were so oblivious. Connor got up and went over to Chiron. It was a little easier to walk through the room now that some of the satyrs had left. It was really late, I realized. I couldn't see anything outside the windows of the infirmary and the few lamps inside barely managed to fight of the darkness seeping in.
More satyrs left and soon only Chiron and Connor, who seemed to be in an intense discussion, Vanessa, Di Angelo and me were left. It was a relieved to get rid of all those bodies taking up all the space in the cramped infirmary. I let my breath whoosh out. By the gods, I was tired. Conner trudged back over to me.
"Grover's in a coma," he announced his eyes sober once more. "They don't know why, they've tried everything but they still can't figure it out." I squeezed his shoulder. The gesture came naturally now, either I was getting used to being a source of comfort or I was getting used to Connor. I wasn't quite sure which one it was.
"It'll be okay," I whispered. He nodded. We turned back as Chiron called the lot of us to him.
"I have made a decision." He announced in his booming voice. I looked at him, from the tips of his dark hooves, shining in the light, to his shadowed eyes, darkened with wisdom and grief. Maybe I shouldn't have been too hard on him earlier. He wasn't the reason I had to live out there all these time. But then. I wondered, whose fault was it exactly? Chiron interrupted the flow my thoughts as he went on. "The three of you," his heavy gaze took in Vanessa, Di Angelo and me, "will leave for the quest tomorrow."
"Why now?" Di Angelo said. It was obvious he was still angry. "Why not when it could have made a difference?" Chiron closed his eyes, like Di Angelo's words had hurt him. Before the aging centaur could reply, another voice answered Di Angelo.
"For me," Annabeth stepped into the mild light. Her fair hair fell around her shoulders in waves and her stormy eyes had shone brightly. She seemed more like a daughter of the goddess of wisdom than ever. She seemed to have aged overnight, all the fire I had seen in her earlier quenched. Pity surged through me. I knew what she was going through. I knew it wasn't easy. "For Tyson," Annabeth went on, her voice strong. "For Sally. For Paul. For Chiron. For Grover. For every other demigod he had ever helped or ever received help from. For vengeance." Annabeth took a deep breath. "For hope," she said finally, her voice small like the hope she had wasn't all that big either.
Di Angelo looked at her. Slowly, he nodded, gripping Percy's pen tightly in his pale hands. Beside me, Vanessa's eyes held a fierce glimmer of hope. Chiron smiled, a smile that seemed hopeful and approving and reassuring all at once. I glanced at Connor but for once I couldn't tell what the child of Hermes was feeling. He had hidden it all under a mask. I looked down, wondering what I was feeling.
"You leave first thing tomorrow," boomed Chiron. And that was that.
We shuffled out of the infirmary. I turned to follow Connor and Vanessa but apparently Chiron wasn't done yet.
"Alva?" I stopped. Turning slightly I looked at Chiron. The light pouring out of the infirmary silhouetted his massive torso. "Your things have been moved to the Hecate cabin." I stared at him for a few seconds before looking at Connor and Vanessa. Vanessa smiled and made a gesture as if to say 'go on'. I looked at Connor. He met my eyes and nodded. Turning around, I left them, immersing myself in the shadows.
The Hecate cabin glowed in the dark, the runes carved on the walls glimmering with a strange green light. I halted in front of the door. Slowly, I took out my sword. I didn't know if my mother knew where I was but I wasn't taking any chances. Carefully, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
"φωτίζουν" I whispered. Soft light suffused the room. I looked around surprised that there was no dust anywhere. There must not have been anyone in here for two years but every surface was spick and span. There were three windows in the cabin but each had a thick drape over it that must block the light even in day time. All of the walls were lined with shelves. I walked closer, unable to hold back my curiosity. Books. The shelves held books. Volumes of every size imaginable, from tiny little paperbacks that could fit in the palm of my hand to huge tomes that were probably heavier than I was. I was amazed, of everything in the world, I had least expected this.
When my gaze finally shifted from the shelves, I saw that the rest of the room held only a plain desk, a bed and a small slab of stone. The block of stone held candles of every color on it. I shook my head, astounded. My own cabin. Never, ever in my wildest dreams had I imagined something like this would have happened. I dimly recalled a room much like this one back when I still lived with my mom. I never thought I would have another one like it.
It was too much. I jumped up. The attack, the claiming, the Panic, the quest. It whirled in my head, suffocating me. This was all too much. Grabbing my sword and pack, which lay on the bed, I ran out of the door, only to collide with someone on the other side.
"What the-" Connor cursed, filth pouring from his mouth. I stepped back, surprised.
"What are you doing here?" I looked all around, making sure no one was looking out of their cabins and that there were no harpies around. But this was the time of night when no one stirred in their sleep and when even the harpies had gone to sleep. Except for Connor and me there was not a soul awake in Camp. I noticed that all around me were the cabins of other minor gods and goddesses so I wasn't too worried about haters coming up to murder me in my sleep.
"Looking for you," Connor replied. He stood there, shoulders slumped slightly. His brown hair fell into his eyes slightly and I noticed that he looked sad again. Connor's eyes were dark in the night and I felt uncomfortable under his gaze. "Will you come back? From the quest, I mean." Connor looked a little afraid of my answer.
And what, I wondered, was my answer? I never realized it before but the quest was my only chance to get away from Camp. I could ditch Vanessa and the brat and make my way to Canada or something. I could leave these people and their troubles. But did I really want to do that? I contemplated the camp, its bright atmosphere, its cheery look. I thought about Vanessa, how she seemed so innocent yet so loyal at the same time. I remembered the few acquaintances I had made here" Annabeth, intense and fierce; Clara, the daughter of Apollo, sickeningly sweet but funny at the same time' Clarisse, someone who understood why I never let go of my sword. I swung the sword now, taking in how it glimmered in the night. And finally Connor. Where did he fall? Was he a friend? No, he was so much more than that. So what did he mean to me?
I don't know. I didn't know whether I would return from the quest or go through with it in the first place. I didn't understand what Connor had come to mean to me. I wasn't sure if I would miss this place, the first permanent home I had had fin a long time. I looked up at Connor, and with one glance I knew he understood. He turned away, and then paused.
"Just so you know, Alva," he hesitated. "I'll miss you." Then, he vanished in the darkness.
I was alone again. But it didn't feel so bad. Connor's words still hung in the air and they were all I needed right now.
Φωτίζουν (Illuminate)
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