Dreamless

wanted to see her again. When she considered returning to the Underworld without Orion, she had to stop herself from tearing up.
    “Ares. As in Ares, the God of War?” Claire sounded like she wanted to make absolutely certain that everyone was on the same page.
    “Yes,” Helen said, nodding regretfully.
    “Well, what happened?” Matt yelled in frustration. “Did you speak to him?”
    “It wasn’t like a normal conversation or anything. He’s crazy, Matt—and I mean really crazy. He talked like he was reciting poetry or something and he leaked blood from the strangest places. Even his hair bled, if you can imagine it, and I don’t think any of that blood was his.” Helen looked down and saw her fingers vibrate. She was shaking all over.
    In the harsh light of day, Helen suddenly wondered if she had imagined the entire encounter with Ares. Everything around her looked so real, but it seemed fake. Colors were oversaturated, and voices raked at Helen’s ears like they were all too loud and jarring. It was as if her surroundings had suddenly turned into the set of a Broadway musical, and Helen was the only one standing far enough upstage to see that the world was entirely made out of paint and plywood.
    “As near as we can figure, Ares is as mortal in the Underworld as we are.” She was trying to outshout all the thoughts in her head. “But he’s still a big man and he knows how to fight. I can’t defend myself against him without more training. I need you to teach me, Ari. Will you do it?”
    “You’ll have to be the one to spar with her so I can teach,” Ariadne said to Matt quietly. “Are you up to this?”
    “Probably not. But let’s do it, anyway,” he replied.
    “Down to the cage,” Ariadne said solemnly. “Matt. You’ll have to change into a gi . I don’t want you to get blood all over your street clothes.”
    While Helen and Matt trained, Claire went inside to tell the rest of the Delos family about Helen’s encounter with Ares and maybe try to come up with some kind of plan. Matt and Helen worked for hours, and Ariadne was not kind. More than once, Helen felt as if her sweet, delicate friend was actually channeling Hector in all his drill-sergeant glory.
    Hitting Matt was not easy. He was wearing protective gear so he didn’t get injured, but even so, Helen balked more often than she should have. Each time she worried about hurting Matt. That thought would lead her back to how she had hurt Orion, and guilt would overwhelm her.
    The Furies had made her do it. She hadn’t really meant it when she’d stabbed Orion, she reminded herself repeatedly. Even though at that moment when she knelt in front of him, she had wanted to kill him. In fact, there was only one other person toward whom she had ever felt such an overpowering emotion.
    It’s the Furies , Helen thought firmly . It’s instinct, not real emotion.
    But if her instinct was so terrible, how could she trust herself? It seemed like everything she instinctively wanted was immoral, hurtful, or just dead wrong. She had no idea what to do next.
    Too tired to lift her arms, Helen let her hands drop. Matt punched her in the face.
    “Yikes, Lennie! You really do suck without your lightning,” Claire yelled as she came through the door.
    “Thanks, Gig,” Helen said sarcastically, hauling herself reluctantly off her butt. “What did Cassandra and Jason say?”
    “That they would try to figure it out.” Claire grimaced. “Honestly? I don’t think anyone has a clue about what to do next.”
    “Great,” Helen said while Matt tugged her arm and helped her to her feet.
    “Come on,” he said to encourage her. “Back to work.”
    Helen didn’t want to work anymore, but she knew Matt was right. Time was short. They all knew that Helen would have to go to bed eventually, and it seemed like she needed everything at once . . . fight skills, plans on how to deal with Ares, theories about what he was doing down there. She needed everyone to come together and figure certain things out for her or it would never get done. Still, Helen felt responsible, like she should be the one to handle this.
    A voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Hector’s reminded her that delegating was one of the most important skills a general needed to learn.
    Since when am I a general? she thought ruefully. At that moment, Helen would have given just about anything to be able to call Hector and ask him for his advice, or text Orion and joke