charm(less)

quīnque

—— q u ī n q u e ——

PARK COULDN'T SHAKE the guilt clinging to him as he led Korey through the streets of New York.

He kept turning over what had happened mere hours ago and could only come to one conclusion. Keres, his mother had taught him, were spirits of not only death but lust. They were a higher class of monster who never acted without purpose and didn't hunt random demigods down for entertainment. No, the only reason he could imagine was that they'd managed to track Park through his strong aura and when they saw he was a child of Hades — a risky option, considering they resided within his father's domain — they chose Korey as their target instead.

A target for the mark. Where other kids had been learning their times tables and doing grammar exercises at six, Park had been taught every possible symbol to exist in Greek Mythology and the meaning of each one. The alchemy symbol for death was one of the first his mother had pushed him to memorise. As a child of Hades, it was one of the most important ones to recognise -- not just the sight of it, but the feel, the sense of it. It was difficult to explain but Park had learnt most things in his world couldn't be explained, at least not rationally.

He snuck a glance at Korey as they clambered over a low stone wall to cut across two walls. For all his earlier chatter, he had been uncharacteristically quiet and probably understandably so. It would be difficult even for a normal demigod to stomach that they were fated to die from a monster's touch. In the distance, the spilling rays of the sunrise cast a golden glow across his face but didn't quite mask the flushed appearance. Korey was still good looking, Park was certainly nothing would change that, but he looked as if he had suddenly broken out with the flu.

A side effect of the mark, he supposed. He'd never seen the effect of one but he understood the concept. The body understood what the mark meant even if the mind couldn't comprehend and was preparing itself.

"We've been walking for a while," Korey commented, as they began weaving the crowded streets. "Am I allowed to ask where we're going?"

"How are you feeling?"

Korey blinked. "You're suddenly concerned about my health?"

"The mark takes a physical toll. It'll be hard enough keeping us both alive as it is," Park said, irritated. "I don't need you passing out on me."

"Well, uh, I've been better. Feel a bit like I have a fever."

"You look it too." Park came to a stop and stuck his hand out, flagging down a taxi in a matter of seconds. He wasn't a New York born but one of the things he'd come into quickly was their transport services. "Alright, get in."

"Wait, what?" Korey said in disbelief. "You just made us walk around for hours only to hail a cab?"

Park shoved him down into the cab and followed Korey in after him. "Fourth street on Fleet, please," he told the driver, and turned to face Korey. "To find the location of Camp Half Blood, I need to speak to someone and they're only available during daylight hours."

"So why drag me out of my house in such a rush?" Korey said with a frown. "We could've rested, taken our time, and left in the morning."

"We can't stay in one spot. That's how the monsters find you. Your house was a target hotspot to attract them all and moving, even if it was without purpose, throws them off your trail at least for a little."

Korey looked alarmed. "My house is a hotspot? Is my dad going to be okay?"

"He'll be fine," Park said, glancing out of the window. Even at this bizarrely early time of day New York was busy and the roads crowded. "Monsters, they don't touch mortals. No interest in their mundane blood. Demigods are the only ones they're interested in."