Starcrossed

same thing. I think the Furies are gone.” Lucas sighed deeply, like a huge weight had just been lifted off his chest, even though Helen knew her head was probably as heavy as a bowling ball. “I was scared for a moment when we were in the air. It was very hard not to engage you.”
    “We? Oh, you can fly!” Helen said, realizing.
    She remembered how Lucas had a habit of appearing and disappearing so suddenly, and how she had heard the thuds and scuffs of his takeoffs and landings. She had never seen him fly because she had never thought to look up.
    “How did you get under me?” she asked, shifting her position ever so slightly.
    “I caught you. I saw you faint and slowed your fall as best as I could, but we were already close to impact when I got an arm around you.” He shifted as well, and then flinched in pain. “I can’t believe we’re alive.”
    “Neither can I. I thought you were coming to kill me tonight, but instead you caught me,” she marveled, still stunned. “You saved my life.”
    It was as if the fall had knocked all the rage right out of her. She didn’t hate Lucas at all. She felt the pressure of his arms lying across her back increase slightly, quickly, and then relax again.
    “The sun’s coming up,” Lucas said after a while. “Hopefully, my family will be able to see us now.”
    “All I can see is your chest out of my right eye and mounds of sand out of my left. Where are we?”
    “At the bottom of our impact crater on the last bit of beach before Great Point Light at the absolute tip of the narrowest strip of sand on the northernmost end of Nantucket Island.”
    “So . . . easy to find,” Helen quipped.
    “Practically in my backyard,” Lucas joked, and then flinched painfully when he laughed. He went quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Who are you?” he finally asked.
    “I’m Helen Hamilton,” she replied hesitantly, not sure what he was getting at. She wished she could see his face.
    “Your father’s name is Hamilton, but that’s not your House,” he said. Helen could feel the capital H in the word House just from the inflection he used. “You would normally have taken your mother’s Scion name rather than your father’s mortal one. Who was she?” he asked as though he had been meaning to ask her that question all night.
    “Beth Smith.”
    “Beth Smith. Right,” he said sarcastically.
    “What?”
    “Well, ‘Smith’ is obviously an alias.”
    “You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about her. How can you say that isn’t my mother’s name?” Helen asked, getting defensive.
    She had never even known her mother, and here was this stranger assuming he knew more than she did. It cut Helen a little to have to admit to herself that perhaps he did. For the first time in hours, she was also hyperaware of the fact that she was lying on top of him, and she didn’t want to be anymore. She tried to put pressure on her forearm but a searing pain informed her that there would be none of that. After a few feeble attempts to roll off of him she gave up. She could feel him smiling, and his arms tensing to hold on to her just in case she managed to get away.
    “I know your mother wasn’t named Smith because you can fly, Helen, now hold still. You’re hurting me,” he said frankly.
    “Sorry,” she said, suddenly realizing that he’d taken the brunt of her weight when they hit the ground. His injuries were probably far worse than hers—and hers were awful.
    As she watched the sand turn gray, then pink, then coral with the rising sun, Helen thought that this was the second dawn she had seen in as many days. Of the two, she much preferred this one. She was in far more pain, but she was also alive and completely free from anger. Helen hadn’t realized how heavy the burden of hate had been until she was allowed to put it down.
    She heard a voice calling for Lucas, and although she knew they were in danger lying helpless in that pit, she didn’t want to be found. What if the Furies came back with the rest of the family?
    “Here!” Lucas called weakly.
    “Wait,” Helen pleaded. “What if they still see the Furies when they look at me? I can’t defend myself in this state.”
    “No one will hurt you,” he promised, his arms tightening slightly around her.
    “Hector . . .” she began.
    “. . . would have to get through me first,” he said resolutely.
    “Uh, Lucas?” she said leadingly, not wanting to insult him by pointing