Starcrossed

smile. “How’d you sleep?”
    Helen answered by throwing the covers off to reveal the untouched jingle bells still wrapped around her ankles. They were exactly as they’d been when the two girls went to bed, but under the bells, Helen’s feet were dirty, swollen, and red from what looked like weeks of walking.
    “Again?” Ariadne asked, dismayed. “You have to be floating out of the window, because I swear I didn’t hear a thing, and I barely shut my eyes last night!”
    “It’s not your fault,” Helen said, shaking her head and unstrapping the useless bells. For a moment, Helen considered telling Ariadne about her vivid nightmares. They all knew she had them, but Helen hadn’t shared what her dreams were about with anyone since she’d told them to Kate. Helen took a breath, intending to confide in Ariadne, and then stopped herself. Would Ari think she was going crazy like Cassandra? Helen decided she should keep her mouth shut. “You know, I really don’t see the point in you spending every night here if I’m wafting out the window as soon as you nod off.”
    “Don’t even start with that, because it isn’t going to happen,” Ariadne said peevishly. She threw her covers off and stood. “Lucas is probably gonna kill me dead enough as it is,” she mumbled nonsensically as she headed to the bathroom.
    “Oh, hey! Sorry!” Jerry said with surprise as he ran into a scantily clad Ariadne in the hallway.
    “Hi,” Ariadne growled at Jerry as she slammed the bathroom door.
    Helen tossed the silly bells under the bed and looked up at her dad, who was peeking timidly around her door.
    “I didn’t know Ariadne was here. Again,” he said.
    “Yup,” Helen replied, like it was obvious.
    “Okay,” he said wavering in and out of the doorway. “And you’ll be at her house all day, I suppose? Working on that project for school still?”
    “Yup.”
    “Okay,” he said, confusion scrunching his brow. “Uh . . . Happy birthday?”
    “Thanks,” Helen replied with a nod. Then she stared at him until he went away.
    “Did I hear your dad say it was your birthday?” Ariadne asked with wide eyes as she came back into the room.
    “Uh-huh,” Helen said. “Not a word to anyone. I just want to practice and then come home and go to back to bed.”
    “No! We should do something!” Ariadne protested. “We should take the day off and go shopping, then maybe go out for dinner!”
    “I’m sorry, Ari, but I can’t. I just woke up and I’m already exhausted,” Helen replied, hearing her voice sound low. “Practice, then back to bed. That’s all I want for my birthday.”
    Ariadne shook her head sadly and stared at Helen while she made up the inflatable bed she insisted on sleeping in every night. Helen could see that Ariadne wanted to argue, wanted to insist that Helen at least try to enjoy herself on her birthday, but thankfully, she gave in.
    Helen could barely keep her eyes open, and she was starving. She wondered again if she actually had walked for days, like she did in her dream, or if there was something wrong with her mentally. Noel’s words about love being able to drive a person mad came back to haunt Helen. Were her all-too-vivid nightmares what Noel had meant? And then she had to consider if, at that point, it might not be a comfort to go stark, raving mad.
    Creon stepped onto the dock from the private yacht his father had supplied for him and his team. The trip across the Atlantic from Spain to Nantucket had been long and tedious, but necessary. They required tools that would never make it through customs, even on a privately owned plane, and what was more, they could never fly their quarry back, anyway. That would be foolish. She needed to be properly secured no matter how much the preparation inconvenienced Creon and his team.
    His father had explained it all to him—how years ago he’d had the chance to kill her, but that he had fallen under the spell of her face— the Face. Creon was surprised that his father had been weaker than him, but that, too, was a sign of the coming of Atlantis. The Scion generations were fated to get stronger and stronger, to be born with more and more talents until finally, a generation was to come that could defeat the gods. His father’s moment of weakness, as unfortunate as it was, had its benefits. In that moment, Tantalus had learned of her phobia for the water. Creon’s quarry feared and hated the ocean, and that was an advantage for the