Dreamless

voice.
    Her thin arms shook as she held out her hands. Orion unscrewed the lid and helped her steady the canteen and raise it to her lips. She swallowed a small sip, and then looked up at Orion in shock. She grabbed the canteen and tilted it back, swallowing the entire contents in a series of loud gulps before swooning against Orion. He caught her and held her, glancing at Helen reassuringly.
    “You’ve killed her!” the whiny one gasped.
    “He can’t kill any of us,” the leader said. “Look. She stirs.”
    The littlest one clutched at the hem of Orion’s shirt, burying her face in his chest. He stroked her hair with his free hand and spoke softly in her ear as her shoulders started to shake. Helen could tell from his tone that he was telling her that it was okay and that she was safe. The littlest Fury suddenly threw her head back and revealed that she wasn’t in pain or crying. She was laughing.
    “Sisters,” she sighed. “It’s . . . heaven! The Heirs have brought us heaven to drink!”
    Helen quickly handed the other two Furies their canteens, and watched as they joined their sister in euphoria. The littlest one kissed Orion on the cheek in gratitude and then threw herself into the waiting arms of her two bigger sisters. The three girls cried with joy as they hugged each other, bouncing and squealing and laughing all at once. They looked like three young girls, jumping around at a slumber party.
    Glancing over at Orion, Helen saw him staring at the three girls with intense, but seemingly conflicted, emotions. She went and stood close to him, trying to offer him whatever reassurance she could. He seemed shaken up by the mention of his father, and she wanted to let him know that none of that mattered now. The Scions were free of the Furies, and soon he and his father could be together again.
    “You were right,” Helen said. He looked down at her with a questioning smile. “Setting them free was way better than eternal joy.”
    They both turned their attention back to the girls, and watched their rejoicing. Then Helen shrugged and made an “eh” noise, pretending like she was still debating it. Orion laughed at her joke, but he didn’t say anything. He just draped an arm over her shoulders as they watched the three sisters hug and dance.
    The littlest one was the first to break away. At first, it seemed that she had grown tired from all the excitement and needed to go sit for a moment. She staggered away from the group and covered her eyes with a hand. Orion quickly released Helen to go to her aid when she wavered as if she was about to collapse. She bent her head. Red drops stained her white dress as she wept bloody tears. Her sisters took her from Orion, asking what was wrong. Not long after, the other two began to weep as well.
    “What happened?” Helen asked Orion.
    “I don’t know. All she said was that she couldn’t get their faces out of her head,” he replied with a worried frown as he watched the girls huddle together and speak privately. They seemed to come to some sort of a consensus, and the leader approached Helen and Orion.
    “It appears this joy was not meant to last,” she said.
    The other two girls continued to cling to each other as they cried, and Helen desperately wanted to help them. Orion crouched down and picked up the discarded canteens, frantically checking them for any leftover drops of water but they all were empty.
    “We’ll get you more,” he promised, but the leader shook her head.
    “As much as I want to feel that again, I’m afraid it will never last,” she said sadly. “We cannot repay this gift, but we wish to give you something in return for the few blessed moments you gave us.”
    “A gift for a gift that we’ll remember forever,” moaned the whiny one.
    “We release the both of you from all of your blood debts,” the leader said, and waved her hand in the air in blessing. “We will never torment either of you again.”
    She stepped back and joined her sisters, then the three of them began to retreat into the shadows of their tree.
    “Wait! Don’t give up yet,” Orion pleaded. “Maybe we didn’t bring you enough. If we get you more . . .”
    “Orion, don’t,” Helen said, putting her hand on his arm to stop him from chasing after them. “They’re right. We could spend forever bringing them water, but in the long run joy is just an experience—it’s not supposed to last. I see that now. Persephone must have meant a