Dreamless

the Conclave had come to up to that point could potentially be scrapped, and his mother knew it.
    “Mom! Are you sure you want to do that?”
    “Screw Conclave! Castor and Pallas need to come home now. There’s a huge riot in the center of town, Lucas. Right outside the News Store!”
    Heat swarmed Helen’s skin, making it sting and prickle with sweat. The bone-dry air smelled like struck matches and wiggled like the surface of a lake. Light blinded her, although there appeared to be no true sun.
    Orion released Helen’s hands so he could turn and face the only tree in the dry lands. Three small girls stood in its shade, their thin shoulders quivering as they cried. Orion gestured for Helen to join him so they could approach the Furies together. The three sisters reached out for each other fearfully. As Orion took a step closer, they wrapped their arms around each other in a miserable huddle.
    “Wait.” Helen put a hesitant hand on Orion’s arm. “I don’t want to frighten them.”
    “Have you come to kill us, Descender?” the one in the middle asked. Her voice was still childlike, even though it was rough with tears. Now that Helen could see them clearly without feeling their influence, she wondered how she could ever have thought they were grown women. They were just children.
    “We know how you Scions hate us and want us dead,” whined the one on the left. “But it won’t work.”
    “We don’t want to hurt you. We came to help.” Helen held her hands up in a peaceful gesture. “Isn’t that what you wanted the first time you led me here? For me to come back someday to help you?”
    The Furies sniffled and cringed as they clutched at each other, still terrified. Orion slowly took off his backpack and laid it on the ground, glancing up at them soothingly as he did so to make sure none of them were startled. Helen thought it looked as if he were approaching a herd of skittish deer, but his tactics seemed to be working. The Furies watched him carefully with wide eyes and pursed lips, but they did seem to be more at ease.
    “We’ve brought you something to drink,” he said gently as he unzipped the backpack and took out the three canteens.
    “Poison?” asked the whiny one on the left. “A trick to send us to Tartarus, no doubt. I told you already. It won’t work.”
    “Sisters. Maybe this is best,” the smallest one on the right said in a thin, wispy voice that could barely be heard. “I am so tired.”
    “I know you are,” Helen said, her heart going out to the three girls. “And I know what it is to be really tired.”
    “We only want to help ease your suffering,” Orion said. He sounded so kind that the one on the left wavered and took a half step toward him.
    “There is no end to our suffering,” said the leader in the middle, restraining her sister. “You Scions may find peace, even happiness from time to time, but we Erinyes are tormented always. We were born of blood spilled by a son who attacked own his father. We are fated to avenge the wrongful death.”
    The leader glared at Orion accusingly, and he looked up at the Furies with pleading eyes. Helen took a reassuring step closer to him. He was starting to lose focus on the reason they were there. That wasn’t like Orion at all.
    “I didn’t kill my father, no matter how much the Fates would have liked that,” he declared in a strong voice. “I was born to bitterness, but I don’t choose to be bitter.”
    “But it’s not a choice for us, prince,” whispered the smallest one. “The murders are always inside our heads.”
    “We Erinyes can never forget the blood that your kind has spilled. We remember every moment,” the leader said with deep sadness. The three girls began to weep again.
    “And that’s why we are here. My friend and I think you’ve suffered enough for the Scions’ sins,” Orion said in his soothing voice. “We only want to give you some water to drink. Aren’t you thirsty?”
    “We’ve not had a single drop of water in over three thousand years,” said the one on the left.
    All three of them were tempted, that was obvious. It was so hot and dry, even in the shade of their miserable tree, that Helen, who had grown used to deprivation, was desperate just to wet the inside of her mouth for a moment. Finally, the littlest sister stepped forward on legs so skinny and frail they nearly folded up underneath her.
    “I am very thirsty. I wish to drink,” she said in her tiny, whispering