Heart of a Traitor

8: Who Am I?

The days begin to blur. I lose track of how long I've been away from home. Weeks? Months? A part of me knows it doesn't matter. I'm never going to see my family again anyways. Most days I'm okay with that. The truth doesn't settle well, but I can handle it. And on the days or nights when I can't, I use Luke's method of coping.

We make our way back east again. There's no specific destination, but Thalia and Luke are paranoid of staying in one place, and I honestly can't blame them.

The only reason I know it's fall is because the trees, with what little leaves they have left, are a warm brown-orange color. Well, that, and something else.

We walk through the streets of Manhattan one day, looking for a place to eat with the few hundred dollars I have left. And then I see it. There's a newsstand on the corner of a sidewalk. Each newspaper displays today's date. September 11. My birthday.

I don't speak for an hour. All through breakfast, I don't say a word. Luke is the only that can tell something is wrong, but he doesn't say anything in front of the girls. By the time lunch is done and we're walking back down the street, I tell him that it's nothing new. I'm just missing my family.

I manage to sneak away from them an hour later. The moment I'm alone, I realize this is my chance. If I'm going to leave them, I have to do it now. Before they suspect anything. I'm surprised to find that the thought of leaving the three of them hurts just as much as the reminder that I left my family.

"Daughter of Poseidon." It's a male voice, coming from several feet behind me.

I freeze. My heart pounds faster. My mind races. This is it. Kronos is here--Kronos is real. I force myself to speak. "K-Kronos."

"Lord Kronos," he corrects.

As if I'm being pulled, I turn towards him. He looks just like he had in my dreams. Slick black hair, olive-toned skin, lean frame. He's dressed in a white suit. The color is a backdrop for his glowing eyes. The sight of him makes my insides curl.

His mouth tugs up in what's probably meant to be a smile but looks more like a sneer. "Helen Jackson. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."

"A-Armstrong," I manage to get out.

He looks at me sideways, confused.

"My last name is Armstrong," I tell him. I don't know why I'm talking. I should shut up. But my mouth won't stop moving. "Not Jackson."

He chuckles. It's like nails on a chalkboard. "I see you're still believing that lie your mother fed you."

I have no idea what he's talking about. I don't bother to ask. "Don't talk about my mom!"

His smile dissipates at my words, at my command. He snaps his fingers--and suddenly I can't breathe. I gasp, struggling to get air in, but it's like my body forgets how to take in oxygen. I don't know how, but I know he's doing this.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to disrespect your elders?" He questions.

My vision is going black. Kronos disappears behind a flurry of stars. It's all I can do to keep my eyes open. My lungs scream, contracting as they burn up.

And then he snaps his fingers again, and the spell breaks. I can breathe.

I fall to my knees, gasping for breath.

"You look better like that," he tells me. "All of humankind looks better like that--on their knees, bowing before me. Exactly where they belong."

"You're going to kill me," I gasp. Before, I could deny him as a part of my imagination, a monster from my darkest nightmare. But now I know he's real. Now I know that he's powerful. I won't be able to stand a chance against him. I'll have to do whatever he wants.