Last Shadow || Deception Book III

Chapter 4 Pt. II

Three scones and two cups of cocoa later, I slumped back onto the sofa, exhausted. Wounds from the past that had never fully healed had been ripped open again, the pain as fresh as ever. Yet, I suddenly felt so much lighter. My father pulled me into a hug, and as I returned it, I realized that sometime during my tale, he had come over beside me.

"I'm not going to say I'm sorry for you," my father said as he pulled back, meeting my gaze. "But I will say that I'm proud of who you are, what you have done, and what you have gone through. It must have been hard, but you're still here. And I'm proud of that."

"I think I must have exhausted my year's worth of tears," I rasped. I wiped my hand over my face for what must have been the millionth time in the past three hours. "Gods, I was not expecting to cry."

"If you cried now, you won't cry later," Nico offered.

"I don't think that's how it works," I sniffed. "But okay."

"You don't have to continue if you don't want to," my father said softly. "It's already been a long day. We can talk tomorrow."

I shook my head. "No, I have to do this." I swallowed. "I'm running out of time."

"You mean with Percy? He's turning sixteen next year, right?"

"Yeah, but not that. How do I explain this?" I muttered to myself, pressing my hands into my eyes.

"Just explain it the way you explained it to me," Nico suggested. "With no sugar-coating."

I took a deep breath. "Okay. Dad, you want to know why I'm here. Well, it's because I have questions. And I have no idea what to do."

Go on, my father motioned.

"During the winter solstice, Athena revealed to me that you were alive. Needless to say, I'm pissed off at the gods for letting me believe you were gone for my whole life. But that's not it. There's a prophecy about me." I paused, watching my father carefully. "And she said I'm not human."

"W-what?" Nico said, wide-eyed. "What do you mean?"

"That's what I'd like to know," I replied, not taking my eyes off my father, who seemed a shade paler. "You know, don't you?"

"I can explain," he said hurriedly. "I-"

"I'm not mad," I sighed, hugging my knees to my chest. "I know you know. But the Olympians are not answering any of my questions. You're the only one I can ask. So please, tell me."

My father ran a hand through his hair, green eyes shadowed, and sighed. "Well, to start, I met your mother twenty-four years ago in New York, right after I'd graduated uni. Columbia, biology," he added with a small smile.

"Y-you mean you . . . dated for what, five years? That's an awfully long time for an immortal."

My father shrugged. "Hecate stuck around. She's not Zeus, you know."

I waited for a rumble of thunder, or heck, a bolt of lightning, but nothing happened. Interesting.

"There's a ward," my father said, smiling slightly. "Insult Zeus all you want here. He won't hear you. Anyways," he continued, "One day, out of the blue, she came home with this glowing box in her hands, set it on the table, opened the lid to reveal a glowing ball of energy, and said to me that she needed my blood, I couldn't ask too many questions, and I had to do it."

"So you did it."

"Well, yes," he concurred. "I mean, it had already been five years since we met. Never once had Hecate ever asked me for anything. So when she asked this, I did it. I mean, it was only a drop of blood. What was the worst thing that could happen?"