Dreamless

costumed hordes were certainly not out looking for candy. These groups had a heightened, aggressive energy, as if their monster masks gave the people wearing them the soul of the characters they depicted. For the life of her, Helen couldn’t recognize any of the young people in these groups, which was really strange. Usually, she would have passed half her high school by this point, but the streets seemed to be filled with strangers, which was nearly impossible. It wasn’t tourist season anymore.
    Something was definitely off. Helen was not afraid for her own safety, but she was still concerned. It was so early, and there were so many little kids still out looking for treats, she wished the people more interested in tricks had waited a bit longer. She went into the News Store with a worried frown, wondering if she should call Luis and tell him to take Juan and Marivi home early this year.
    “Nice wings, Princess,” a man drawled.
    “Hector!” Helen exclaimed as she tossed herself right into one of his fantastic hugs, despite the fact that he was using her least favorite nickname. He caught her effortlessly and she hung from his neck for a bit. “One of these days, I’m going to get you to stop calling me that.”
    “Not in this lifetime.” He tried to sound like he was joking, but she could tell right away that something was wrong. He seemed tense. She pulled back and took a good look at him.
    “What’s happened to you?” she asked, and ran her finger along a thin, pink scar that was still healing across his cheekbone.
    “Family,” he said with a sad smile.
    “The Hundred are still chasing you?”
    “Of course they are,” he said, shrugging. “You’re the only person I’m certain I’m safe with. Tantalus won’t risk harming his one and only chance to be free of the Furies.”
    Helen frowned and wondered if she should be happy about that or not. A part of her didn’t want to do anything that made Tantalus and the Hundred happy, but what else could she do? Not help Hector because it also helped Tantalus? She was stuck and she knew it.
    “You’re freezing!” he said, chafing his hands over her skin to warm her up. “Usually I prefer it when women wear as little as possible, but not you. Where are the rest of your clothes, little cuz?”
    “Long story,” she chuckled. “So get comfortable, because I’ve got to fill you in.”
    “I have something to tell you, too,” he said seriously as she dumped her stuff behind the counter. She looked up at Hector, and was struck again by how worn he looked.
    “Are you okay?” she asked, really concerned for his health.
    “Go on,” he said. “We’ve got a little time, but not that much.”
    Helen ran off to greet Kate and her father, and then had to count her register before she could come and talk. Kate set Hector up with hot cider and as many hazelnut sticky buns as he could eat, while Helen checked her bank and organized the credit card slips in the relatively deserted front part of the store.
    When everything was in order and Kate had bustled off to take care of the noisy customers in the back, Helen caught Hector up on everything that had happened recently in the Underworld. She altered the stolen obols story slightly to make it seem like Lucas had stolen them strictly for her use and not his own, and ended with the riot at school. He listened without interrupting, a brooding look on his face.
    “Her name is Eris,” he said. “She’s the goddess of discord, or chaos, depending on which translation you use. Wherever she goes, disorder, arguments, even riots erupt. Everything that can go wrong will. She is sister and companion to Ares, and she is very, very dangerous.”
    “Hector. What’s going on?”
    “I came here to warn you. About two hours ago I saw Thanatos walking down Madison Avenue in New York, right outside the building where the House of Thebes is holding Conclave.”
    “Who’s Thanatos?” Helen asked, although the name sounded familiar.
    “Thanatos is the god of death,” Hector explained. Helen nodded, remembering Cassandra had told her that. “He’s the original Grim Reaper—black cloak and all bones, but minus the scythe. That bit of farm equipment got added during the Middle Ages. Luckily, most people on the street thought it was just a guy in an amazing costume, although there were a few of the more sensitive types out there who keyed into what was really happening and ran screaming.”
    “What was he doing