"The Olympians have been called many things, but forgiving is not one of them."
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[adventure, dark comedy, romance - book 1]
Loyalty. What did it mean?
As the Second Titan War raged across the United States, Half-Bloods began to pick sides...
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SITTING IN A FORGOTTEN CORNER of Olympus, Ophelia closed her eyes and focused on the steady warm breath against her leg. Leah had finally fallen asleep. Ophelia had at last rid her fine, black hair of tangles. She let the girl just rest.
Beside her sat Tyler, fidgeting with his small celestial bronze knife. Her thirteen year old half brother had barely spoken ten words since they'd woken up with the return of the lyre. As far as Ophelia could tell, Tyler Ahmed and Leah Kim were the only children of Hecate left alive after the Battle of Manhattan. So few.
All the rage in Ophelia's body had settled deep in her chest. A heavy weight made her struggle for breath, a painful reminder of her weakness. Leah and Tyler didn't have that problem. They could still use magic. Their power increased at night, but they never went without. They never lost a part of themselves under the sun.
She had Eris and Nyx to thank for that. Ophelia forced herself to take a deep breath. When she had stopped breathing, she wasn't sure. As she continued to methodically run her fingers through Leah's hair, she tried to think positively.
They were going back to camp. Leah and Tyler had both agreed to give it a try. She had confidence that Leah would find a place there. But risking a glance sideways at Tyler, still spinning his knife in his hands, she wasn't sure about him. They'd try.
Most of the demigods had refused to go to Camp Half-Blood. At least, not right away. Some of the runaways agreed to go home again, to give it another shot. The older ones refused out of spite. They said they would rather live on the streets for a year or two than associate with the enemy.
Ophelia sighed. She hadn't tried very hard to dissuade them. She understood, more than they realized.
Hoofbeats on marble echoed from down the hall. She looked up as Chiron came through the doorway, a sad, pitying smile on his face. He looked pristine in his professor's clothes. Ophelia stopped playing with Leah's hair.
"How are you feeling, my dear?"
"Fine," she said.
Silence lingered between them. He knew what had happened, she was sure. Everyone on Olympus probably knew. She'd felt their judgment as she'd limped up the roads to the palace, struggling with Kitty behind Alex. Glares, small gasps of recognition. She'd heard them all. She wondered if the half-bloods Chiron had been leading knew.
Looking on the faces of the children they'd saved left Ophelia hollow. They were a reminder of her failure. They'd settled for half a victory.
"It's time. Those who have chosen not to return to Camp Half-Blood have already left," Chiron said. "Ready?"
She sighed, looking down at Leah using her thighs like a pillow.
"I'll carry her."
Ophelia looked up when Alex spoke. Her eyes went first to his perfectly healed face and then to his new, bright orange Camp shirt. She hadn't expected him to put the tattered Disney shirt back on but for the briefest moment, seeing him in the orange felt wrong.