Dreamless

heard Hector’s voice on the other end she was so startled that she could barely stammer out a greeting.
    “Helen? Shut up and listen to me,” Hector interrupted with his usual directness. “Where are you?”
    “Well, I’m walking home right now. Why, what’s up?” she asked, more curious than offended by his abrupt tone.
    “Walking? From where?”
    “Your house. I mean, your old house.” She bit her lower lip, hoping she hadn’t said something stupid.
    “Why aren’t you flying ?” He was practically shouting at her.
    “Because I wanted to take a . . . Wait, what the hell is going on?”
    Hector quickly explained that Daphne had confronted Tantalus and then been injured and lost at sea for over a day. He told her how it had taken Daphne three days to recover enough to be able to tell Hector about the Myrmidon parked outside Helen’s front door.
    Helen knew she should have been worried about her mother, but she heard the word mur-ma-don and had to stop Hector to ask what that was.
    “Did you even read the Iliad ? You didn’t, did you?” Hector admonished, his voice rising again. Helen could picture Hector’s face turning purple with frustration.
    “Of course I read it!” she insisted.
    Hector cussed loudly and then explained as calmly as he could that the Myrmidons were the elite warriors that fought with Achilles during the Trojan War, and Helen put it together. She was familiar with Achilles’ special squad of nightmare soldiers; she had just never heard the word pronounced properly before. Myrmidons weren’t human, but ants transformed into men by Zeus.
    “The creepy guy that attacked us at my track meet!” Helen exclaimed, covering her mouth with a hand. She finally understood why the leader of the group, the captain Helen suddenly realized, had bothered her so much—because he was really an it . “I thought soldier ants were all female,” Helen added, confused.
    “Yeah, and I thought ants looked like ants and humans looked like humans,” Hector said drily. “Don’t be fooled, Helen. That thing isn’t a man, and it definitely doesn’t have the same feelings we do. Not to mention the fact that it’s enormously strong and it has thousands of years of battle experience.”
    Helen thought about a program she’d seen on TV about ants. They could march for days, lift loads hundreds of times their weight, and some of them were unbelievably aggressive.
    Looking up and down the dark, cold road, Helen suddenly wished that Hector was with her, even if he was a grouchy pain in the ass 90 percent of the time. She also wished she had paid better attention to him when he was punching her in the face. At least then she’d know how to fight.
    “So what do I do?” Helen asked as she tried to look everywhere at once.
    “Get airborne. It can’t fly. You’re usually safer in the air, Helen. Try to remember that from now on, okay?” he coached. “Go back to the family and tell them what I told you. Then stay there with Ariadne. She’ll keep you safe. Lucas and Jason will find the nest, and my father and uncle will probably have to go to New York to bring this issue before the Hundred. After that, Cassandra will make the decisions. You should be fine.”
    Like the great general he was always meant to be, Hector could plan every moment of a confrontation. Still, Helen didn’t think he sounded very convincing when he promised her safety.
    “You’re really afraid of this Myrmidon, aren’t you?” Helen asked as she got airborne.
    The thought that Hector was afraid of anything frightened Helen more than the empty road in front of her. She heard him sigh heavily.
    “Myrmidons have been used as contract killers for Scions for thousands of years. Apart from the House of Rome, which has its own loophole for kin-killing, if a Scion wants to kill a relative without becoming Outcast, he or she goes to a Myrmidon. Of course, this isn’t something we like to talk about. Myrmidons are a part of our world, and not all of them are dishonorable killers. But some are. They’re physically stronger than we are, and they don’t have the Furies to worry about. Using one to spy on your own family is a red flag that someone is about to get assassinated, and it gives my father and uncle the right to call for a formal, closed meeting of the Hundred. Something called a Conclave.”
    “But that’s good, right?” Helen asked nervously. “Castor and Pallas can call for this Conclave thingy and get rid of