Goddess (Starcrossed)

fast. He parried Hector’s blinding strokes, twisted, and maintained his balance even though his adversary tried to use his larger size to press in and intensify the angle. Instead of getting trapped under Hector’s rain of downward strokes, Matt was able to make space between them without losing his footing on the sand.
    Helen felt Lucas, Orion, and Jason all inhale sharply when they saw Matt dart in and draw first blood.
    “Hector!” Ariadne cried out.
    Hector backed away from Matt, dropping the point of his sword and touching his ribs. His hand came back red. He looked across the arena at his sister and his father who stood with Tantalus. They had sided against him.
    As soon as Hector looked at her, Ariadne ran to the edge of the circle, nearly dancing on her toes along the magically sealed rim, like she was trying to throw herself into it and stop this fight. Hector smiled at his sister.
    “It’s okay, Ari,” he said, forgiving her. “I understand.”
    Hector faced Matt again grimly, aware now that he had met his match. He didn’t waste any time, feinting and spinning past Matt, and slashing downward at Matt’s heel as he spun away. Blood flowed freely from Matt’s Achilles heel, but he didn’t die. He limped away from Hector and took up position on the other side of the arena.
    “Wrong heel, my friend,” Matt said sympathetically as the wound closed immediately.
    “It was worth a shot,” Hector replied with a shrug, and then he pressed in again with reckless abandon.
    Scions healed quickly, but for Matt it only took seconds for his skin to seal back up like nothing had happened. After seeing that, Hector knew his only shot at beating Matt was to find his one weakness. Matt had to have one. He had to be at least partially mortal or Hecate wouldn’t have allowed him to take part in this fight, but there were a lot of body parts to choose from. Hector tried the other heel first, but Matt only recovered faster this time.
    “Cut his head off!” Daphne yelled, her eyes wide with fear for Hector now that stabbing both Achilles heels hadn’t worked.
    “His heart! Hit his heart!” Orion shouted after her.
    As soon as these first two ideas were offered, the Scions on Helen’s side began calling out suggestions in a flurry of voices. Hector fought on, stabbing at Matt’s heart, liver, and even trying to cut off his head, but none of these turned out to be right. Matt would feel the injury but heal immediately, and all the while Hector was getting wounded and not healing as quickly. With each furious exchange, Hector was the one who grew weaker.
    The gods looked on with rapt expressions. It was clear that this was the best fight they’d seen in over three thousand years. They were soaking up every minute of Hector’s and Matt’s pain like they were cheering downs at a football game. It was sport for them.
    Unable to bear watching the bloodthirsty gods, Helen looked over at Lucas for comfort. He wasn’t even watching the fight anymore. He was looking blankly at the sand, racking his brain for the body part that Matt would choose as his one weakness. She could see him talking to himself, frantic for a way to figure it out. She thought she heard Lucas repeating the word “heel” over and over to himself.
    Lucas lifted his head and made eye contact with Helen, his face bright with hope.
    He’d figured it out.
    At that very moment, Helen and Lucas heard Hector shout. Their heads spun around in time to see Hector crumple to his knees. Matt’s sword was buried up to the hilt in his chest.
    Many voices cried at once, and bodies on both sides of the arena’s circle pressed against the invisible barricade in a wave, as loving members from both factions tried to rush into the arena and come to Hector’s aid. But the magic of the battleground prevented any being from interfering.
    Matt stood over Hector, his lips trembling and his shoulders hunched with regret. Nearly out of her mind, Ariadne was screaming hateful things at Matt while Claire tried to hold her back.
    Hector fell onto his side, still clutching the thick blade that had run him clean through the heart. He hit the ground and his head turned upward, his eyes staring directly at the clouded sun. He pulled in one taut breath, then another, and then no more. His mouth seemed to smile at the sky, but his eyes, which had always been so fierce and full of life, ran dry.
    Hector was dead.

FOURTEEN
    S taring at Hector’s body lying on the sand,