Date: 2017-03-14 01:58:23+00:00
Keywords: Romance; Fantasy; Fiction; Young Adult; Urban Fantasy
Description: There are lots of stories about the children of gods. But what about those cursed by the gods, and their descendants... El, a seventeen-year-old has inherited an ancient and deadly power. She loses control of it, causing a horrific accident, and becomes the prey of a secret organisation known as the Order. Forced from her family and home, she hides in plain sight amidst the crowds of London, and is thrust into a world that she never knew existed; one full of arete: beings who possess extraordinary powers like hers. As she learns more about the arete world, the line between friend and foe becom
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Rights: All rights reserved (#3412833123370476)

The Arete Series

Descendants

Rae Else

Copyright © 2018 Rae Else.

All rights reserved.

Second Edition

ASIN B06WWKNF6H

aretedescendants.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is fictionalised or coincidental.

- Chapter One -

Vigilance

El twisted her braid as she stood in the darkened Tudor room of Cobbold House. She could hear the staircase groaning as the next group issued up from the lobby. The groups were a maximum of ten for tonight’s open evening. It enabled them to squeeze into the smallest spaces and navigate the points of interest. The visitors reached the landing of the first floor, and on catching sight of El, sidled into the room. El was dressed in a black shirt and jeans, offset by khaki boots. The low lighting dimmed her blonde hair and her pale face was striking against the lacquered panels.

Landing this room was a stroke of luck; wide and sparsely furnished, it didn’t feel claustrophobic like some of the others. But even in here, as the visitors joined, it was getting cosy.

El looked around at the new group. An unusual sound was coming from the woman in front of her: a second heartbeat, pulsating faster than anyone else’s, like a train rushing along its tracks. She noticed the woman wasn’t showing yet and wondered how many weeks pregnant she was. A cloying sweetness clung to a man coming through the door. It was as if a bouquet had been shoved under El’s nose, but the scent arose from the few grains of pollen on the man’s jacket. He must have brushed against the carnations on the stairs.

El stopped fiddling with her hair and hid her hands behind her, ignoring their clamminess. She tuned out all the reverberations and took a couple of deep breaths, concentrating on the far walls. They stood like raised palms, cautioning her. This place was so similar to the manor house where she and her grandma lived that she could almost be home. Almost.

A young man caught her eye. She admired his mop of brown hair and broad features. She felt the warmth spread across her cheeks and down her neck, sure that she was turning an attractive shade of scarlet. She’d point him out later to her friend, Ingrid, who was also working tonight.

All the guests were gathered, their attention on El. A few of them noticed the panelled screen behind her.

‘Welcome to the Tudor room,’ El announced. ‘I’d like to draw your attention to our new exhibit.’ She motioned to the screen. ‘This walnut screen dates to the early seventeenth century. The inlaid motifs have Latin mottos and were popular at that time. People believed that contemplating them helped to promote spiritual well-being.’

The guests focussed on the screen and El snuck a look at the attractive guy. Their eyes met. She was flattered that he was still looking at her.

‘The central theme in this group of paintings is vigilance. Many animals are used to symbolise it, such as the lion and hare sleeping with one eye open, and the crane holding the stone.’

El’s gaze strayed over the images. A sense of unease resurfaced, the same as when she’d first examined the artefact. It was strange that the pictures were all about sight. She mentally shook herself. Speaking in front of a group was not the time to get paranoid. She turned back to the visitors. All of them were admiring the piece, except the cute guy, as well as a woman with raven hair. The woman’s eyes locked onto El’s.

‘It’s sometimes more interesting to decipher the meanings of the mottos by studying the pictures,’ El said, ‘but translations can be found in your guide book.’

El looked at the handsome man. Warmth flared in her chest like heartburn. It travelled upwards, shot through her and pooled in her eyes. The sensation receded as quickly as it had come, but as she watched the man she knew that the damage was done. He stared. Trance-like. Her heart raced. What had she done? She stood rooted to the spot whilst his stance changed, beginning to incline towards her as though being drawn in. Those nearest to him shifted as he encroached on their space. El knew she had to stop this. She had to distract the rest of the visitors.

She fidgeted with her plait. ‘Why don’t you come have a closer look.’

The cute guy barged through the group, causing a babble of complaint. His steps were swift and decisive. He was an arm’s length away, his eyes holding her intensely. He stretched out his hand as if to touch her face. She moved back to avoid his grasp. Suddenly he lurched sideways, away from her and his fingers fell on the panels.

El’s stomach twisted. She watched him stroke the pictures. She had compelled him to feel what she was feeling: her desire. This sense of want now mingled with her suggestion to examine the artefact, resulting in this strange behaviour.

Trembling, she knew she had to take charge of the room. It was filling with murmurs and confused looks.

‘Quiet, please,’ El said.

The visitors' noise drowned out her voice and their attention remained glued on the man fawning over the screen. Only the raven-haired woman – the one who had stared at El earlier – stood out. She was grinning, apparently thinking that this was some kind of prank.

El approached the man, who was beginning to scratch the emblems. Her eyes darted from his face, still riveted on the screen to his nails, where flecks of paint were encrusted. He was damaging the wood. He was going to hurt himself. She had to stop him. Now. Warmth surged through her core, the power filling her gaze as she looked into his eyes.

‘Stop. You’re damaging it,’ she cried. ‘You have to stop.’

El tried to concentrate on her words, to think of nothing more than to get him away, but her heart drummed faster and faster as if competing with her voice. Her anxiety distorted the simple instruction and her panic transferred to the man.

His pupils dilated. He shoved her, and losing her balance, she fell into the screen. Throwing her hands out to catch herself, both she and the artefact thudded to the floor. Her hands and knees throbbed as she hit the ground, but the screen sustained most of the impact. She cringed as she shifted her weight and the wood splintered beneath her.

One of the guests came forward to help. Dazed, she registered their touch but remained on the ground. Exclamations broke from the visitors as they watched the man bolt out onto the landing. Some edged towards the door, perhaps considering giving chase, but most remained where they were. Gasps rose and the air seemed charged. Everyone’s focus grew sharper as they watched the man vault over the railings of the first floor. His legs and arms were thrown wide as though his body was pushing itself to bridge a gap, as if with effort he might leap across to a distant ledge. But there was none. He plummeted.

El lurched out the door as a sickening thud rose up to meet her. She peered over the bannister. Her heart seemed to rupture as she stared down. Below lay the man. A dark sheen pooled around his head, coating the parquet floor like a fresh coat of varnish.
She wanted to scream, but only a choked cry fell from her lips, her grip slackened on the railings and she sank to the floor. Bile rose in her throat, footfalls resounded, guests dashed downstairs, someone screamed, another group coming upon the scene. El tried to get up, but her legs buckled and her breath came in short, shallow bursts.

An elderly man and woman guided her to a chair. ‘The girl’s in shock,’ said the woman. ‘There now dear, it’s alright.’

A pang of sickness rocked El’s stomach. These people were helping her when it was all her fault. Her senses were out of control, and it wasn’t just her own heartbeat that roared in her ears, but the furious pulsing of every living thing. The noise mounted in a crescendo. As she forced herself to breathe, she concentrated on pushing the noises away. She had to know what was happening downstairs. Her ear latched onto one sound: a faint pulse. The injured man. He was alive.

El’s surroundings receded to white noise. The only constant that mattered was that feeble beat. Her manager, Sandra started to direct people out of the main hall. The dialling of phones and the call placed to the emergency services sounded dimly. One of the guests was monitoring the unconscious man.

When her breathing continued to grow more frantic the couple steered her away from the landing. The pastel hues of the music room seemed to calm her. She sat on a bench in the corner, staring at the gilded harpsichord as though it played a secret tune. The weak rhythm of the man’s heart engrossed her fully and she didn’t realise the couple were leaving until someone touched her arm. She looked up.

Her friend, Ingrid stood over her, her familiar, green eyes full of concern. ‘Are you alright?’

El nodded. She could feel the hot prickle of tears threatening to start, but she couldn’t allow herself the release. If her friend asked what had happened, she was sure that the truth would come pouring out. She had to hold it together until she got home.

Ingrid smiled at the elderly couple who were lingering in the doorway. ‘Thanks for all your help. If you could speak to the policeman downstairs before leaving, that would be great.’

El listened to the sounds below and realised that the paramedics had arrived. The low voice of the police officer resonated as he questioned the remaining visitors.

Taking a seat on the bench beside her, Ingrid swept her chestnut hair behind her ear. Her locks fell over one shoulder. El steeled herself, ready to claim ignorance to whatever her friend asked.

‘Someone said he hurt you,’ Ingrid said.

El shook her head, the tears springing to her eyes. Ingrid’s worry burned through her like acid, creating better footholds for guilt to climb.

El forced herself to speak. ‘I just got knocked over when he ran.’

Ingrid frowned. ‘If he’d hurt you I’d have…’

Ingrid was prone to effusive language at the best of times, but her unfinished sentence hung awkwardly in the air. The silence stretched out and El was thankful that her friend didn’t try to fill it.

They took the stairs to the lobby slowly but, below, Ingrid whisked her past the pool of blood. Yet, when they joined the police officer in the dining room, El could still taste its thick, iron tang in the air. The officer’s questions were perfunctory and he seemed eager to wrap up his report.

He drew the meeting to a close with a practical consideration. ‘Is there someone who can take you home, Miss?’

‘I’ll drive her,’ Ingrid said.

El was about to argue, but her friend’s look was fierce. They took leave of the police officer and made their way out from the house, saying goodnight to their manager.

In the carpark, El looked at her own hatchback. She doubted that she’d be allowed to pick it up tomorrow. After what she’d done it was unlikely she’d ever go out again. She grabbed her handbag from the boot and lingered, looking back at the dark silhouette of the house. She’d been volunteering here for almost a year. Now she might never come back. She climbed into Ingrid’s car, numbed by the realisation.

Her thoughts didn’t quieten for long. As the headlights revealed the country roads before them, El’s mind threw into sharp relief what she’d done. The man’s pupils were once again before her, swollen with fear. He was like a frightened animal, hurtling over those railings. She had decimated his sense of reason and survival. She saw his broken body again. His hair, which minutes before she’d admired, caked in blood. She was a monster. Each passing mile increased her worry. What if he didn’t wake up? She’d be a killer.

She didn’t understand why her power had gone haywire this evening. She’d been distracted by the guy’s good looks and unnerved by the subject matter of the screen, but her emotions hadn’t affected her power like this for years. Not since she was a kid. She shook away the intruding thought, not wanting other memories of blood to mingle with tonight’s. It didn’t matter what thought or feeling had caused her to lose control or that she hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. It was done. And she was to blame.

Her stomach knotted as she imagined telling her grandma what she’d done. The likely consequences of her actions solidified. There was no way she’d be allowed to keep her job at Cobbold House. The few monthly meet-ups with Ingrid that she’d fought so hard for would be gone.

She looked over at her friend. In the faint glow of the headlights Ingrid looked determined as she concentrated on the road. Her friend always seemed so sure of herself and El felt the tug that she often did when she imagined confiding in her. El pictured how surprised she’d be, but was sure that she’d find a way to crack a joke.

They were nearing her house.

‘I’ll get out here,’ El said. Ingrid narrowed her eyes as she turned through the huge, arched entrance of the driveway. ‘I need to think before I tell her what happened.’

‘Fine but call me tomorrow. Remember – I’m on study leave – I can come over.’ She stopped the car.

El hesitated. A shift at Cobbold House or a meet-up with Ingrid qualified as the one weekly social interaction her grandma allowed. Now with what had happened, she knew both liberties would disappear.

El shook her head. ‘I’ve got a lot of studying.’

Ingrid rolled her eyes. ‘School’s almost over. Soon you’re gonna have to get a life.’

El smiled wanly. That was another thing her grandma would deny her: to sit her exams at the local high school, where Ingrid went. El had always been home schooled, but when she turned sixteen she’d been trusted to sit her exams at the school. It’s where she’d met Ingrid, almost two years ago now. El worried what her friend would make of it when she failed to show up for finals. What new lie would she be forced to tell her?

‘You know you can talk to me about anything?’ Ingrid said.

El shot a look at her friend and, for a moment, paused. This wasn’t the first time Ingrid had fished for what was really going on. Ingrid thought it weird how overprotective El’s grandma was, insisting on her home schooling all these years, limiting her weekly socialising to a shift at Cobbold House or to Ingrid visiting her here. The suspicious look Ingrid was throwing her meant that she was once again contemplating her crazy grandma. There was no denying it. El knew that from the outside it must all look pretty strange.

‘I know,’ El said hurriedly. ‘It’s just the usual. You know my grandma’s going to worry when she hears what happened.’

Ingrid frowned but nodded. ‘Text me once you’ve talked, okay?’

‘Okay – I’ll let you know.’ El climbed out the car. ‘But I’m expecting a lengthy incarceration and some solitary.’ She was only half joking and starting to pave the way for what she knew was coming.

Ingrid laughed and waved goodbye. As her friend reversed and drove around the corner, El felt like the normalcy she’d gained over the last couple of years disappeared too. She couldn’t believe that all her efforts to control her power and prove that she was capable of functioning in the world had been destroyed in a single night.

She began the trudge up the long driveway to their house, situated like a fortress, nestled amid fifty acres of low-lying fields and copses of mature trees. The surrounding pastures and woodlands grew wilder and thicker with each step. When she’d been younger, they’d seemed like the only world she would ever need. Now she saw the blades of grass and needles of trees for the barbed wire they were. She would be confined to this prison again, to live in its shadows. You couldn’t call such a life living.

Too soon the final beech trees arrived. She halted beneath their latticed branches. There was a car parked in front of the house. The sleek edges of a Porsche contrasted with the angular lines of the walls. No one visited. And definitely not in a car like this; battered four-by-fours were more the thing around here. A chill ran down El’s spine. Was this to do with her? Was this because of what she’d done?

She knew her grandma would be expecting to hear the sound of her car when she got back. Perhaps she hadn’t heard her yet. El let her senses investigate the way ahead. She amplified the reverberations and was rewarded by a voice. It was as though she’d slunk through the cracks between the bricks and mortar.

It wasn’t her grandma’s voice that sounded in her ear, but that of another woman.

‘There’s no choice. The Order will find her here. She has to come with me.’

El’s senses snapped back to the immediate environment: the owl hooting through the night, the shuddering leaves above and her own laboured breathing. The tension in her limbs forced her to move. She marched the rest of the way, pummelling the gravel. The porch door stood open and she unlatched the inner one.

In the hallway the heraldic-shielded ceiling and opulent paintings seemed brash as if trying to ensnare her. El’s gaze rushed to the older woman in the centre of the room. Her grandma’s mouth stiffened as she turned to the door. El vaguely observed the blonde-haired woman, who wore a sleeveless, ivory dress and heels, but her eyes fastened onto her grandma.

Not for the first time, El wished that she could see behind the black sunglasses she always wore. But it was pointless; only shadows rested there, deep and thick, in her empty eye sockets.

- Chapter Two -

Blurred

El stood, transfixed as though hypnotised by her grandma. However, Grandma Helena didn’t possess the same power as El. Her grandma had lost that when she’d lost her eyes. El traced the lines of her face, but its angles seemed taut and unfamiliar.

She came closer to her grandma, her voice sounding steadier than she felt. ‘What’s going on, Grandma?’

Helena seemed as stupefied as El. It was the blonde-haired woman who spoke, her voice clipped, ‘You used your power tonight.’

El flushed. Hot shame washed over her. This woman knew what she’d done. Her grandma knew too. How did they know? Her temper flared at her grandma’s silence.

‘What the hell’s going on, Grandma? Who is this woman?’

Helena flinched. ‘This is Anna, your mother. Because you used your power, you’re going to have to go with her.’

El’s eyes widened and swung to the blonde-haired woman. She looked at her properly. Her mother. She examined her petite build, dirty-blonde hair and blue eyes, just like in the photos Helena had shown her. Photos all taken over seventeen years ago, before El’s birth. She hadn’t aged a day. But she did look different to the woman in the photos. That’s why El hadn’t immediately recognised her. El had one picture of Anna framed on her desk in her bedroom. In it, Anna wore a polo neck, her hair loose and her smile wide.

She was as beautiful in real life as she was in that picture. But something about her pristine dress, erect posture and blank expression made her seem less life-like than in that still image. Anna didn’t come towards El for the kind of embrace she would have expected from her long-lost parent. She didn’t even look at her. Instead, her eyes remained on Helena. Was she so indifferent to seeing her daughter for the first time since birth?

El remembered Ingrid once admiring the photo of her mother. She’d said that El was the spitting image of her. At the time, she’d been flattered to be likened to the elegant woman, but now that she was here she detested the obvious similarities. There was no warmth to her.

Anna’s blue eyes swept her face. El felt a rush of cold mark her cheek and gasped. Had she imagined it? Despite the sensation startling her, it woke her up. How could her grandma suggest that she go with this strange, icy woman?

‘I’m not going,’ El said. Her voice grew louder. ‘You can’t make me.’

‘El, please–’ Helena said.

Ignoring her, El dropped her handbag and hurried down the hall. She slammed the library door behind her, clutched her arms around her and started to pace the room. Her mother. Her mother was here. How dare she show up after all this time and with hardly a word expect her to go with her.

The remains of a charred log glowed in the hearth. El grabbed a hunk of firewood from the basket and hurled it on top; the disturbed ashes released a cloud of dust. As she went to pick up another piece, pain seared through her finger. In the glow of the fire, she saw the splinter embedded in a cut. Her hands were covered with scrapes that she’d got from the broken screen.

She inhaled deeply and dug her fingernail under her skin. At least in this she was like everyone else. She could still bleed. Her hands shook. The events from earlier were catching up with her. This new shock would send her over the edge. Sitting down, she tried to regain control, drawing her knees up to her chest and tensing her forearms.

When she was a child, her grandma had explained to her that Anna had run away in her late teens, got in with a bad crowd and got pregnant. Other than leaving El to be brought up by her grandparents, Anna had done nothing for her. No contact. Nothing. Until now. She remembered Anna’s words: There’s no choice. The Order will find her here. She has to come with me. What did she mean? Who would find her?

In the car with Ingrid, El had assumed she would be shut up in this house and become a lonely spinster in the middle of nowhere. But at least if she was locked up, everyone else was safe. Now, her mother had appeared, claiming that El wasn’t safe. A tremor of fear ran down her spine, frosty like Anna’s gaze.

El jumped as the door opened. She didn’t look up at first, but her grandma’s sharp intonation drew her attention, ‘Wait in the car, Anna.’

El’s mother lingered in the doorway for a moment looking like she’d argue, but with a cursory glance, left.

El ignored her grandma as she sat down on the Chesterfield sofa next to her. Instead she looked at the painting on the wall. Burne-Jones: Doom Fulfilled. Its dark hues depicted the hero Perseus battling with the sea serpent. Battling the serpent. That’s what she did every day. El remembered the feeling of the heat in her chest as it had flared earlier, that’s what she had to keep at bay all the time. The serpent power that slumbered in her. She recalled the sensation of it shooting into her eyes – sudden – like that of a snake striking. Tonight, it had won. The power was her curse to bear as it was her mother’s, and had been her grandma’s and all of Perseus’ descendants before them.

The painting that hung next to this was brighter, with more red and yellow pigments. It showed one of the ways legend said Medusa’s curse was passed to their line. Perseus and his wife, Andromeda stood on a dais staring into a pool. Medusa’s head rested in the background – the trophy Perseus had taken when he’d killed her. The gorgon’s eyes were reflected in the water. Her lethal gaze would turn a person to stone, but her reflection was safe, or so they had thought.

El had listened to stories of how curiosity had cursed Perseus and his children, the gorgon’s power seeping through the water to them. Another legend told that the snakes that still lived, writhing and hissing upon the severed head, had bitten him. Still more likely El’s grandma said, was that Perseus extracted the snake’s venom and deliberately claimed the terrible power.

El had shuddered at Helena’s stories when she was younger. The first descendants possessed the full power to turn humans to stone, but over the centuries his bloodline had become diluted and the serpent power weakened. Where the first descendants could transform the very molecules in any living thing, those that came later could only temporarily alter them, and bend them to their will. The power that El had used tonight.

Her gaze was hard as she stared at the painting. She knew her grandma was scrutinising her. Although Helena couldn’t see, her other senses were acute. She would be noting the shift of El’s muscles and tension within them.

‘I’m so sorry, my darling,’ Helena said. ‘It’s my fault. I never should have let you start working at Cobbold. It was too much, too soon.’

Usually El would have argued and accused her grandma of stifling her, but she couldn’t after what had happened. A surge of guilt swept through her. Her grandma was trying to share her burden. El shook her head, her vision blurring. It was her fault. She wished she could take it back. It had all happened so quickly. One mistake. One she still couldn’t explain.

It had been years since she’d slipped up so unexpectedly. She remembered when she was young, walking through a field with her granddad. Some of the bullocks in the pasture hadn’t socialised yet. On seeing El and her granddad, the cattle were skittish and stamped their hooves. The sound and movement had drawn El’s eye and she’d incited them to stampede. She’d felt her granddad’s arms around her, his frantic heart frightening her more as she gazed back. He’d only just made it out of the field with El shaking in his arms.

A couple of years later, one of the employees on the farm had brought their teenage son to work with them. Seeing strangers so little, El had been fearful of the unknown boy. With a stray glance, she had unwittingly bid one of the farm dogs to attack. The boy had escaped the worst of the bites, but had needed stitches in his arms, legs and face. She’d seen him back on the farm a few times over the years, his face permanently scarred. Sometimes she still dreamt about him and believed that there was a kind of justice in this. He haunted her dreams as she so rightly deserved.

But it was the booming of her granddad’s shotgun that she recalled most. The pellet that had pierced the dog’s skull that day had sent a tactile current through the air that seemed to embed itself beneath her skin. She had carried the guilt with her, knowing full well it should have been her lying there, bleeding out, and not the innocent animal.

These reminders had helped her regulate and control her power over the years. Or so she’d thought. To add to this list of dead animals and mutilated people, there could now be a man’s death. No wonder her grandma had been so reluctant to allow her any freedom.

El lifted her head and looked at her grandma. ‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice broke. ‘I promise I won’t go out. I won’t ever leave the house – just let me stay.’

Helena grasped El’s hand. ‘I want to keep you safe, darling. I always have. I wish there was something to tell you, to make this easier, but you’re no longer safe here.’ She gave her hand a squeeze as though she could transmit what she wanted to say through pressure. ‘There are others like us. Others who have the power we do. They know about you, and they’re looking for you.’

A lump rose in her throat and the room spun away from her. Her grandma had always told her that they were the sole heirs of Perseus’ line and power. She pulled away from her grandma and closed her eyes. Others like them, like her. What else had her grandma hidden?

‘It wasn’t just to protect humans that I taught you to conceal your power,’ Helena said. ‘It was to protect you from these people, to keep them from finding you. You’ll see when you go to London–’

El stood up, moving away from the torrent of her grandma’s words. She clomped over to the window and stared out as if trying to see beyond the darkness. People were looking for her and the solution was for them to go to London. How many times had she wished to go there? She had visited Colchester, a small town where the local high school was. Cobbold House was situated on the outskirts of the town too. But it was safer for everyone if El stayed away from people as much as possible. Had her grandma gone mad, suggesting that she go to London? All those people: crowds in their thousands, millions in fact. All things her grandma had forbidden.

El thought of all the times she’d turned down Ingrid’s invites to gigs and shopping trips. Her grandma had always said that El’s power was a liability. Even Ingrid’s visits here had been limited, minimising the danger El posed to her own friend. And tonight, her grandma had been proved right.

El’s world collapsed as she stared out at the gardens and lawns. No breath of wind stirred the hedgerows or undergrowth. It was as if the grounds were holding their breath, waiting for the next shock to come. Her blood curdled at what her grandma had concealed. She turned around and stared at the black lenses and thought of the first time that she’d seen her without them. The naked skin was a tracery of scars around deep hollows, where tattered flesh remained.

El had only been five years old when she’d asked her grandma the question that preyed on her, every minute of every day. Even then, she had known enough about her powers to realise that her life, and any life with their ability, wasn’t an easy one. She’d touched her grandma’s scars and asked her if she’d cut her power out. Her grandma had invariably said that it was an accident, that she’d lost her eyes in an accident.

‘Your eyes,’ El blurted out. ‘Your power? Did you cut them out because of–’

‘The Order,’ Anna answered, her flawless figure appearing in the doorway. She now had on the addition of a leather jacket. She raised her eyebrows. ‘And if you don’t hurry up, you’re going to be faced with the same choice: to go with them or rid yourself of your power.’

El’s gaze shifted between the two women. Shock, disgust, anger hitting her all at once. Each feeling wrestled with the other, vying to be the one to break free. She felt the same bite of cold on her skin as her mother watched her. It seemed she didn’t have a choice. It was a toss-up between going with her mother, the ice queen, or blinding herself. She felt a stab of frustration again at the half answers they were giving her.

‘Okay,’ she said.

Anna nodded curtly and hurried out. El and Helena followed.

In the hall when they got to the front door Helena’s voice sounded, ‘Stay safe, my darling.’

Stopping, she frowned at her grandma. Questions swirled around her head, but there was only one that flew to her lips, ‘You’re not coming?’

Helena shook her head. ‘There’s no time to explain, but it’s better for you and Anna that I don’t.’

All thought of sulking with her grandma evaporated. She didn’t forgive her for her lies, but she didn’t want to leave her and fell into her grandma’s open arms.

‘I love you, Melita,’ Helena whispered.

A film of tears sprang to El’s eyes as she hugged her. Her granddad’s pet name for her was usually enough to lighten her mood but now it just cemented how alone she was. He had passed away a few years ago. At times like this he’d have made fun of her grumpiness, have swept her up in a bear hug until he’d squeezed all the worries from her. Then again, he’d been normal.
Human.

El scooped up her handbag, wiped her eyes on her sleeve and walked to the car. She looked back at Helena. She was the same age as her granddad was when he’d passed away. Eighty-seven. Yet, you’d never have known it. Her dark brown hair was flecked with a few streaks of grey, just as the lines in her olive skin were faint. She could pass for a woman half her age. El had always known that their line was blessed with a longer spell of youth than humans. It’s why Anna hadn’t aged a day in seventeen years either. Perhaps all people with powers aged slowly. El tried to fix her grandma’s image in her head, wondering when she’d next see her.

As soon as El climbed into the car, Anna started the engine. El looked back as they raced away. Her grandma’s figure receded; the doorway in which she stood seemed to swallow her. She’d be okay, El reassured herself. Although her grandma was blind, with the rest of her heightened senses, she was very able. Despite this, El couldn’t help feeling that there were no blessings for her grandma, or for any of them. Their line was cursed. They were cursed with these powers. And now, El was being forced away from the one person who had always been there to help her bear them.

Soon the car was hurtling down the road and she gazed out the window, numbed by all that had happened. The trees became fewer, and were eventually replaced by streetlamps as though they had been stripped of their branches and turned to stone. Their glow, along with the head and tail lights of the surrounding cars on the motorway blurred as El’s tears ran freely. The stream only ceased when exhaustion pushed her into a dreamless sleep.

- Chapter Three -

The Shuttered Eye

El started awake as the blare of a car’s horn petered out. The city reared up outside the window. Huge tower blocks flanked the road, their shadowy surfaces reflecting neon lights, cast from the signs and windows of bars and clubs. Pedestrians spilled out of doorways, whilst others congregated on the pavement. It must be midnight or later, but the hour seemed meaningless to the people outside. There was a steady movement of cars and buses, the odd bicycle or moped too.

El watched couples and groups in fascination. Their outfits caught her attention. A group of girls in short dresses caught her eye, their calves strained as they tottered on heels.
She tried to guess where they were going. For drinks? Dancing? On dates? When they halted at traffic lights, she watched the crowd at the junction. Their chatter, laughter and footsteps buzzed in her ear – the pulse of the city.

Anna swung the car into a side street and the scene was obscured. A modest concrete building stretched out before them, the road sloping down into a basement car park. The gloom thickened before the glare of fluorescent strip lights passed over them, casting alternating bars of shadow and light. They halted at the far side, where there were lots of unoccupied spaces.

‘Do you live in this building?’ El asked, the first words to punctuate their journey.

‘No.’

El waited. It seemed this was to be the only response. She unbuckled her seatbelt.

‘Wait here,’ Anna said.

A few metres from the car, Anna surveyed the basement. El wondered what she was looking for. Then she saw it. She blinked once, twice. There was something appearing above Anna. Globules of liquid glittered and came together to form something. As the water grew and changed, El traced its shape, noticing the vertical lines at its base. It looked like an eye. A closed eye. The lines at the bottom were like the lashes on an eyelid. She gawped.

Something rumbled in the basement. She peered back, trying to see what it was. When her gaze snapped back to Anna, the watery eye was gone. Okay, that was … weird. She had managed to shrug off the feeling of Anna’s cold gaze but couldn’t as quickly forget the appearance of this unnatural, watery shape. Anna beckoned her to come out of the car. Still amazed, El slunk over to join her mother.

She heard movement and looked over the roofs of cars. A man with an impressive beard and ponytail approached. He wore ripped jeans and a white, linen shirt. He had some chunky metal and leather bracelets on too. She could imagine Ingrid’s comments on this guy’s get-up – in danger of looking Messiah-like, but the jewellery and ponytail offset the look.

‘El,’ Anna said, ‘this is Adam. Adam, my daughter, El.

Anna’s words surprised her. She wondered how she could introduce her as her daughter but in the car, say nothing as she was crying her eyes out.

El shook hands with the man.

‘Pleased to meet ya,’ he said.

When Anna looked at her, El felt the same coolness. She wondered if the watery shape that had appeared in the air earlier had anything to do with the peculiar sensation her eyes gave off.

‘It’s not safe for you to stay with me,’ Anna said. ‘Adam’s going to take you somewhere. Listen to his instructions and don’t use your power again.’

Anna nodded. She seemed to be about to leave and El’s anger simmered. Did Anna think she had used her power on purpose? She felt like screaming that she didn’t go around knocking people off balconies for fun. On top of this, she was being passed from one stranger to another. She didn’t care how saint-like he looked, she didn’t know him.

‘No way,’ El spoke up. ‘You dragged me here and now you’re gonna leave?’

Adam passed something to Anna. ‘Wanna do the honours?’

El regarded the syringe. She stared at her mother. Was she going to tranq her if she refused to go with him?

‘Roll up your sleeve,’ Anna said.

El shook her head. ‘It’s okay, I’ll go.’

‘This will conceal you from the Order,’ she said.

‘But … what is it? Is it safe? How do I even know it’s clean?’ She stared at the needle as Anna drew off the plastic cover.

Anna’s brow crinkled. ‘Hasn’t your grandma talked to you about our immunity?’

El nodded slowly but still regarded the needle suspiciously. Sure, she knew that their kind, just as they aged at a much slower rate than humans, couldn’t catch human infection or disease. She’d never even had a cold. However, that didn’t mean she was eager to put it to the test by injecting herself with mysterious substances.

Anna’s face relaxed. ‘Alex, a friend of mine, a doctor, left it for you. Please, El.’

El hesitated, but finally rolled up her sleeve. She averted her eyes as she felt the slight pin prick.

‘We best get goin’,’ Adam said. ‘You’ll see ya mothah again soon.’

El shrugged and set off, making a point of not looking back. She’d bet her life her mothah, as Aussie Jesus pronounced it, wouldn’t spare her a second thought.

She stopped when she saw Adam’s car. It was one of those Volkswagen vans. The kind surfer types drove. Well, she’d seen them in magazines and on TV; Ingrid had always kept her up-to-date with the latest trends. Looking at Adam she supposed that might explain the face fuzz and long hair – more beach type than city. She wondered how old the van was. It looked seriously retro.

She eyed the peeling, blue and white bodywork with mistrust.

‘Ya can’t stop the waves, but ya can learn to surf,’ Adam said, cracking a smile.

El envisaged an open road, the sea, a sandy beach bathed in sunshine. The waves might be a reference to Anna. After all, hadn’t she conjured the water? Perhaps he was alluding to the whole crazy situation she found herself in. She smiled. Whatever he meant, Aussie Jesus spoke in analogies.

Adam slid open the back of the van and the light up front came on. Something shifted inside. Someone. It was the strong, aquiline nose and prominent chin that El spied first. She was suddenly caught up in a flurry of sensation; warmth spread across her face. She thought she was blushing but realised the heat issued from the brown-eyed man inside.

‘El, this is Dan,’ Adam said.

Dan only nodded as she climbed in. His hair must be dark as it blended with the shadows. His jaw was marked with stubble. Adam pulled the door shut. She could still feel Dan’s gaze and looked at him again. The amber accent of his eyes was apparent. In the half-light, their warmth and colour made her think of glowing embers, rising from a bonfire into the night sky. Adam pulled the driver’s door shut as he climbed in, extinguishing the light.

Dan’s voice was sonorous. ‘Put this on.’ He thrust something at her. It took El a few seconds to realise that it was a sack.

‘Dan–’ Adam said.

‘We can’t have her knowing the way to the safe house. No offence, but we don’t know you. Also, if you have a phone, I’ll be needing it.’

El gawped and wondered how she’d got herself into this situation. That’s right, she hadn’t. Her mother had. She glowered from the back as Adam offered her a crooked smile, but his eyes remained wide and expectant.

She felt fed up and thought about leaping out of the van, but weariness overcame her. Feeling the weight of everything that had happened today, she didn’t have the strength to debate this.

She rummaged in her bag and tossed her phone to Dan. She drew the sack over her head and crossed her arms, sitting back in her seat with as much dignity as she could muster. The material was itchy against her skin and it felt stuffy beneath.

She felt the incline when they drove out from the car park. Even at street level the light from the streetlamps and traffic didn’t penetrate the thick fabric so, this time, the city and its people were hidden to her. Only each stifling intake of air beneath the bag measured the passage of time. She let her other senses rove, becoming acutely aware of Dan’s breathing beside her, but it was more creepy than reassuring. Almost as if she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck.

She turned her thoughts back to the evening’s events. For all of Adam’s easy-going charm, he hadn’t explained anything more than Anna. Dan seemed even more inclined to secrecy, paranoid in fact. He didn’t speak for the rest of the journey. She imagined that addressing a bag was disconcerting but he’d been the one to insist on it. The least that he could do was offer her some reassurance during the journey.

She guessed it was a half-hour later that Adam called from up front, ‘Almost there.’

When they stopped, El wrenched off the bag and jumped out. They had parked on a small driveway in front of a three-storey building. The windows were barred and boarded up, the white paintwork dirty and peeling, steep stairs issued to a porch, in front of which tyres and a mishmash of broken furniture and rubbish lay strewn. At best it looked like a place for squatters, at worst prime real estate for a drug den.

As El stood gazing up at the unwelcoming façade, a black symbol appeared, emblazoned above the door like ink on paper. It became bolder and clearer as it seeped across the paint. The symbol looked like a cross with a ribbon coiling around the trunk. She stared at it as Dan came over to stand beside her.

‘Did you do that?’ she asked.

His eyes rested on her and she wondered if he was just going to keep staring at her.

‘I forgot that you don’t know this stuff … it’s part of the building,’ he said with a shrug.

She frowned at his half-hearted explanation, but Adam on the other side of her added, ‘It’s a kerykeion. It veils the building from the human world. To humans it always looks like your average, run-down house – like most of the others in this area – but when an arete stands in front of it, the mark rises and shows what’s here.’

El’s eyes travelled over the mark. ‘But it showed itself to me and Anna told me not to use my power.’

Dan’s brow furrowed. ‘Contact with a kerykeion isn’t you using your power. The power emanates from the mark.’

El relaxed a little and looked around her curiously. The house was changing. Her eyes roamed its front as it transformed. The pebble-dashed walls seemed newly renovated and gleamed, the arched windows possessed complete panes and a welcoming glow issued from behind closed curtains.

It wasn’t just the house that was changing. The bare yard that had been heaped with rubbish now contained flowers, shrubs and trees. Huge ferns and palms stood around the building and throughout the front yard as if a forest had materialised from the shadows. It felt impossible that the busy streets of London lay only a few metres behind them. Back on the driveway, the van was now obscured by the tall foliage.

‘Let’s get in,’ Adam said.

El followed Dan inside, halting in the hall. It looked like the garden continued along the corridor. Colourful, eastern-looking lanterns were suspended from the ceiling, illuminating more plants and flowers. Vines curled up the walls, trailing all the way to the ceiling; flowers and shrubs stood in pots on tiered shelves, their fragrant petals scenting the air. El felt like she’d walked out into the garden at home, where jasmine and honeysuckle hung from the pergola. She and her grandma ate there sometimes during the warm summer evenings. The memory brought a pang of longing.

‘Welcome to ma humble abode,’ Adam said. ‘The décor is very much á la nymph.’

‘Nymph?’ El asked.

‘A different type of arete to ya,’ Adam said. ‘We can grow mature trees and plants from a seed within minutes.’

El traced the ceiling in wonder. Even as she admired it, she thought about how being green-fingered would be an infinitely easier power than the one she’d been lumped with. Arete. A type of arete. That’s what Dan had said outside too. The house showed itself to arete. She’d only ever called herself or heard her grandma refer to them as serpents. She was part of something larger. The plants seemed to welcome her into the bower.

From amidst the wall of leaves, a girl in a lacy dress poked her head out. El wondered if she’d hidden herself in the thick greenery but realised there was a doorway amongst the foliage. The girl had brunette dreadlocks, her skin was warm ochre and her septum was pierced.

With quick eyes she took in the newcomers. ‘Adam, you know better than to keep guests standing about. Come in – I’ll make tea.’

El registered the cool touch of her eyes. They felt similar to Anna’s but less forceful. It was like a humid mist cloaking her cheek. The essence of the rainforest seemed to be distilled in her gaze; El suspected the girl was a nymph like Adam. She felt hopeful at the promise of tea. After the sudden injection of god-knows-what in the grimy car park, Dan’s blindfold and the initial run-down exterior of this place, the chances of a friendly reception had seemed improbable. Tea was a far warmer greeting than she’d expected.

A glimmer of hope unfurled. She might soon get some answers to the questions that had multiplied over the course of her journey.

- Chapter Four -

Arete

The room was vast, running from the back of the house to the front. In the kitchen at the back, the girl rummaged in cupboards. At the opposite end was a canopied area; swathes of material hung from the high ceiling, sinking to the floor and creating a partitioned area.

El followed Adam through the gauzy fabric. Behind, she stared up at the odd mixture of leaves and flowers, sprouting from between the hangings. The material billowed between boughs and El saw that the structure was supported by trees that were grown from holes cut into the floor. She breathed in deeply. Some of the tension that had mounted over the evening ebbed away as she drank in the heady perfume from the buds and foliage.

Adam settled himself on a wide cushion. El took the one to his right. He wore a contented look as he watched the girl moving about the kitchen. His face was restful and he looked younger than El had first reckoned. There was a gentleness in his gaze. El suspected that they were together. The way the girl had scolded him in the hall had possessed a playfulness too.

El had supposed Adam was about her mother’s age. There was nothing about him to suggest that he was in his thirties, but she’d assumed as one of her mother’s friends that he was a similar age. With humans, you could always tell their age with a quick look. The smallest indentations in the skin started to occur in one’s twenties, growing more noticeable with each decade. She remembered how her granddad had aged. He’d died of a heart condition; she recalled its irregular rhythm which, despite medication, had continued to falter over time. With arete, it clearly wasn’t as easy to note their age. Her grandma, in her eighties, looked like she was middle-aged. El knew Anna was thirty-five, but viewed objectively, might only be a few years older than El.

Seeing the girl’s long dress and ankle bracelet, El wondered whether hippie dress was fashionable amongst arete, especially considering Adam’s style. Anna had been dressed very differently though. Dan, who had just come into the canopied area looked more conservative too: a simple black shirt and jeans. He looked smart. The only hint of dressing down were the blue trainers he wore.

As El looked at him, the warmth of his eyes crossed her skin. His hair, which hung to the ear was mussed, but suited him, softening his bold features. In the soft glowing light of the lanterns, his skin was a lustrous gold. She realised she was staring at him as he sat down on the wide-brimmed cushion opposite her.

She turned to Adam. ‘Why don’t your eyes give off cold or heat?’

‘Arete who manipulate water or fire effect temperature change,’ Adam said. ‘Like your mother or Tia.’ He inclined his head to the girl who dipped beneath the canopy. She set down a tray of steaming tea on the low table in the centre. The clean fragrance of lemon wafted through the air. Tia handed her a cup.

‘Or, like you and Dan,’ Adam said.

El frowned.

Dan’s eyebrows lifted. ‘You been living under a rock?’ There was a cynical note in his expression. His eyes didn’t soften but became harsher as he smirked.

El blushed. She had been living under a rock, or might as well have been. All her life. More had happened tonight than in the last seventeen years. She took a sip of tea.

‘You’re a drakon. A fire serpent,’ Dan said. ‘Same as me. We can conjure and manipulate fire–’

El spat out her tea. ‘A dragon!’

Tia grinned and Adam laughed.

‘But you breathe tea, not fire,’ Tia said with a laugh.

‘No … not dragon, a drakon – you can manipulate fire, not breathe it,’ Dan said, a look of exasperation on his face. He heaved out a sigh. ‘You get earth manipulators like Adam, water like Tia and your mother, and fire like you and me. There are air manipulators too, and most arete can control one of these four elements.’

El nodded, the enormity of what was happening settling on her again as Dan failed to lighten up. She took a few steadying sips of tea, this time managing to keep them down and thought about what he’d just said.

It was strange that there was another power in her that she hadn’t even known about. Her heart thrummed in fear at the thought of this dormant energy. Again, she imagined her power as a snake, coiled in the darkness – one not to be disturbed.

‘But … my eyes are giving off heat,’ El said, looking at Dan, ‘I am using my power…’

He shook his head. ‘The heat your eyes give off is a kind of residue from your power.’

El’s fingers strayed to her plait as she thought about watching Anna conjure the water in the carpark.

‘Why did Anna make that eye?’ El asked.

‘It’s our sign,’ said Dan. ‘The shuttered eye. We use it to signal that it’s safe, that we haven’t been seen by the Order. She used it to say it was okay for us to come get you.’

El felt unnerved by Dan’s gaze, centred so wholly on her. It wasn’t just that it was warm, but it was intense too. She felt like his eyes might burn her. She was sure that he had better control over his power than that and she probably didn’t need to worry about immolation, but from personal experience, knew that a serpent could never be too careful with their gaze.

She was trying hard not to look at any of them for too long. At the back of her mind, as always, she knew there was the danger of losing control over her power, especially if her emotions got the better of her. She hoped that whatever Anna had injected her with tonight might suppress her power. However, she didn’t know if it worked like that. It was best to be cautious. It occurred to her that perhaps Dan didn’t mind if he compelled her in some way – a suspicion that only increased her unease.

‘Can all arete control others with their gaze?’ El asked.

‘No. That’s just a serpent thing,’ Dan said. ‘The kerykeion you saw on the house works the same way. There’s serpent blood in it. It alters human perception. But just like the marker, our gaze can only affect humans. We can’t manipulate other arete.’

El gawped and her hand fell from the tangle of her hair. She gripped her mug with both hands. The realisation settled on her heavily. She was safe here. He couldn’t manipulate her and she didn’t need to worry about losing control with any of them. Or with any other arete for that matter.

All her life she’d worried about having to control her emotions and power. She’d been brought up in the middle of nowhere because of it. Or that’s what she’d thought. She remembered her grandma’s admission tonight: It wasn’t just to protect humans that I taught you to conceal your power. It was to protect you from these people, to keep them from finding you.

Her grandma had said she was protecting her, but she’d kept her from this world, from other arete who she could be herself with. El felt herself hardening against her. How could her grandma have hidden the fact that there were other people like her? The word arete resonated through her thoughts and she recalled where she’d first heard it.

Her grandma had taught her Greek from a young age. It was Helena’s native language. She remembered the Ancient Greek text of Hesiod’s tale about Perseus and the Gorgon. They’d moved onto reading other stories like Homer's Iliad and Odyssey. El had been fascinated by Perseus and all the heroes with special abilities, like “Achilles, the swift-footed” or “cunning Odysseus”. These dead heroes had seemed to be the only ones who were like her. Not demigods as they were sometimes portrayed but people who were born different.

In the stories, the power these heroes possessed was always described with the same word. Each hero had his or her type of “arete”. Their own type of “excellence”. The best heroes in these stories had it. It was the peak of human-hood as it were.

‘Do you like the Verbana?’ Tia said with a grin, no doubt thinking of El spitting it out.

El nodded. ‘It’s lovely.’ It was the freshest tea she’d ever tasted, teeming with flavour – lemon, floral notes, a hint of woodiness. ‘I guess you guys are pretty self-sufficient when it comes to growing your food.’

Tia and Adam laughed.

‘Nothing but the cleanest of living here,’ Adam said. ‘We dryads grow, naiads like Tia ensure optimum water. The fire nymphs – the hesperides – ensure light and warmth, while the aurae, plenty of fresh air. Our produce is the best in London.’

Tia flashed a smile. ‘All we need to start are the seeds, and then we grow food in abundance. We run an organic veg box service from here, and out of a few other locations–’

‘And don’t forget the tea shop. My Tia’s Tea is the best in Camden,’ Adam said with a heartfelt look at the girl opposite.

El regarded the couple. A couple with powers. Normal, in that they didn’t need to worry about hurting one another. She thought how comforting it must be to feel that way, to have someone that understood you. She thought how strange it was to be talking about their business when an hour ago she’d been bundled into a van and hooded by them.

‘This Order – who are they?’ El asked.

Both Adam and Tia grew serious and their eyes trailed to Dan. His intense gaze was trained on her again. He seemed to be assessing her in some way.

‘The Order is controlled by arete called graeae,’ he said. ‘They can see the future, or more specifically, can see arete power and trace it into the future. The most powerful graeae – called the Triad or the All-Seeing Eye – lead the Order. When you used your power tonight, they were the ones that saw you.’

El’s heart quickened. She remembered the sinking feeling of guilt at Cobbold House. At that very moment, when she’d used her power, these arete had seen her. These graeae had foreseen her future. She wondered what they had witnessed.

‘But,’ Dan said, ‘Anna wants to tell you about the Order herself.’

El frowned. She’d thought they were all getting on fine. They’d started to tell her about arete but Dan’s deliberative tone killed the conversation.

She stared at him. Despite the physical warmth his gaze gave off, his tawny eyes were hard. There was something inscrutable about him. Yes, he was being guarded with her, but El got the impression that he never gave much away. Everything about him was dark: his hair like billowing smoke, his stubble like soot. His gaze was more like the tail end of a fire – its light and warmth choked by ash.

She crossed her arms. She would love to get the truth from Anna, but where was she? Her eyes threatened to tear up. It wasn’t fair. She’d been pushed into this world and now no one would tell her anything. Anna better come soon or she’d go mad. She didn’t care how many flowers brightened the rooms or how many types of herbal tea there were here, what she needed were answers.

She felt the hot tears prickling just behind her eyes and got up. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

‘I’m tired,’ she said. ‘I’d like to sleep.’

Tia rose. ‘Here, I’ll show you your room.’

El just waved back at Adam who called goodnight. It seemed that Dan didn’t waste words on niceties.

As El followed Tia up the stairs, she spied more plants. They hung over the banister, their fronds and vines spilling from hanging baskets and pots. From the corner of her eye, the curling masses of leaves seemed to multiply, forming long, green snakes that twisted downwards in search of the shadowy floor.

At the top of the stairs, Tia showed her the bathroom and opened the door to another room. Relief flooded her as she looked around. The room had bare floor boards, a couple of pale rugs, white-washed walls and a high ceiling. A double bed rested in the middle of one wall, a spartan bookcase, desk, full-length mirror and chest of drawers on the other. Best of all – no plants. The minimalist space was exactly what her tired mind needed. With a quick good night, El closed the door.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, El reached for her handbag. She wanted to check her phone. She needed to call her grandma. Ingrid would be wondering too why she hadn’t texted. Perhaps her manager would have left a message with an update from the hospital about the guest. As El searched her bag she remembered that she’d given the phone to Dan. She thought about stomping downstairs and demanding to have it back but her tears had already started. She threw the bag on the floor, scanned the space again and suddenly hated it for its plainness, deciding it was more of a cell than a bedroom.

She pulled off her shirt and jeans and crawled into bed. This was the first time she’d spent a night away from home and as angry as she was about her grandma’s lies, she knew she’d love nothing more than to be with her. She pictured her grandma wandering around the manor, worried and alone. She pondered what she’d have said to Ingrid if she’d had her phone. “Sorry, in London seeing my mum! Will explain everything when I see you.” It occurred to her that she didn’t even know when that would be.

Lying in the gloom, she wondered if this world, with all its possibility, would prove as closed to her as the life she’d left behind.

- Chapter Five -

Hidden Worlds

The van door slid open and El wrenched the bag from her head. This way of travelling was becoming a far too frequent occurrence. She blinked and saw her mother who didn’t seem the least troubled by her blindfold. Again, she was touched by her maternal concern. Jumping out, El saw that they were in the same car park as last night.

The knock on her door had sounded early this morning. Tia had told her to be in the van in ten minutes. El had thrown on the clean clothes left for her and hurried out. She felt strange in the low-cut vest top and flowery kimono. They were far too conspicuous for her liking. At least her jeans still had another day’s wear in them. Best of all, she had her boots with her. They made her feel more comfortable. Growing up and helping out in the fields had meant that she’d never worn anything else. Ingrid often said that they made her legs look short, but even her friend’s teasing added another layer of comfort to them now.

‘Thank you,’ Anna said to Dan and Adam, who were still in the van.

Dan went to close the door, but at the thought of Ingrid, El remembered her phone. ‘I’d like my phone back.’

Dan looked at Anna, who nodded cautiously before he reached into his jeans pocket. El wondered if he’d looked at her messages. The phone had a passcode but maybe he’d found a way around it. She thought about how few texts she had and experienced a swell of embarrassment, hoping he hadn’t seen her meagre handful of contacts.

Shoving her phone into her bag, she hurried after Anna. ‘So, what are we doing here?’

‘I want you to see Alex, the doctor I told you about,’ Anna said.

Was this to see why she’d lost control of her power yesterday? Was there help she could get? Or was it to do with why the Order was looking for her?

‘We’ll talk inside,’ Anna said.

El bit her tongue. Wasn’t it safe here? She suspected Anna just wasn’t a morning person. Her mother looked as polished as the day before. Today’s number was a floral silk, but her air was even more severe than yesterday’s. El thought it was funny that she chose such soft materials as if to offset her severe personality.

They stopped at a blank wall. El searched about, remembering how cautious Anna had been yesterday. The black mark rose to the surface of the brickwork. The cross with the ribbon: the kerykeion. Elevator doors appeared beside the mark, and Anna placed her finger on the panel by the entrance; a laser flashed beneath.

‘A finger vein scanner,’ Anna said. ‘The door will open for those with arete blood.’ They went into the lift and the doors closed.

The elevator ascended and its doors chimed open to a glossy lobby. A well-groomed receptionist sat behind the front desk. At first, El tried to figure out which arete she was. She didn’t gauge any temperature change when her eyes greeted her, but remembered that Adam’s eyes didn’t have any either. He was an earth manipulator. Perhaps this receptionist was the same, or an air manipulator.

Signed in and presented with visitor badges, they sat in the waiting room. El wanted to ask her mother about what they were doing here and about the sign on the wall. In silver capitals the word “Endon” was emblazoned. She recognised the name as a leading skincare and cosmetics brand. El rarely wore makeup, but Ingrid was always lending her a new eyeliner or lipstick to try, and Endon was one of her friend’s favourites. However, there were other people sitting in the waiting room, and El didn’t know how cautious she needed to be. If she asked about where they were, would she make them conspicuous? She wished Anna had met her somewhere more private and regretted not bombarding her with questions in the car park.

Annoyance filled her as she regarded Anna, cross-legged and flicking through a magazine. She glanced at the couple of other people in the waiting area. Their attention was on their phones and El examined them, wondering if they were arete too. As her eyes ran over the man who sat opposite, he looked up. She felt as though she was being pulled down in her seat, her body heavy in the chair and her feet rigid on the floor as though fused to it.

The sensation was familiar; she remembered the peculiar awareness she’d had of her seat in the van, her body heavy beneath Adam’s gaze. An earth manipulator. She’d mistaken the feeling for lethargy when she’d started to argue about wearing the hood this morning. It had been the same yesterday and the reason for not getting out of the van when Dan first insisted she wear the bag. Adam had stared her down, using the residual energy his eyes gave off to keep her there.

She made a mental note to have a go at the dryad whenever she next saw him. El supposed that, like Adam, this man was an earth manipulator of some sort. Embarrassed at being caught staring, she sought a distraction in the assembly of glass and concrete buildings outside. It still felt surreal that she was in London, let alone that she was in this strange, hidden world of arete.

There were countless offices and cubicles housed in the surrounding area, hordes of workers milling about their daily tasks. Millions of people. The sense of the city's immensity loomed over her, sending a tremor through her. A maze of people surrounded her. The sounds of the city came together as she listened to the goings-on: the hum of engines, footsteps, voices merging on the air. A foreign cacophony.

El's vision became grey and clouded. Could she ever be part of this world? Even if her grandma said that she’d concealed it from her to keep her safe, El still couldn’t forget how dangerous she was, and the injury she’d already inflicted. She fished out her phone, wondering if there were any updates about the man in the hospital. There were a few missed calls from Ingrid and a handful of texts. She read the one from her manager first, sent earlier this morning. Relief washed over her: the guest had regained consciousness. He was being treated for broken bones and concussion, but he was expected to make a full recovery. He was going to be alright.

El started to text Sandra back.

‘Who are you texting?’ Anna whispered, suddenly alert.

‘My manager,’ El said.

‘Say to everyone that you’re away because of a family emergency and don’t text your grandma.’

El frowned but nodded.

She had been wondering how best to explain what was going on. You couldn’t describe being on the run from this mysterious Order as taking a break. A family emergency definitely fit the bill better. She felt a sting of guilt as she sent a similarly ambiguous text to Ingrid. Her friend would be hurt by the lack of explanation. However, Anna clearly thought secrecy was necessary and she put her phone away.

Even with news of the guest’s recovery, El still felt the weight of remorse as she pictured him lying in hospital. She looked out on the city, its indomitable buildings reaching skywards. Despite their height they seemed fragile. She imagined their glass shattering, their frames exposed to reveal cramped compartments of people – people running to the ledge, and jumping.

El closed her eyes, willing herself to stop her thoughts from spiralling. She reminded herself that she didn’t have a choice about being here. She had used her power and the Triad were looking for her. Perhaps this doctor could make her power more stable. Perhaps he could even cure her. She’d probably be home with her grandma in no time, carefree and finishing her studies in a few weeks. She’d spend the summer helping at Cobbold House and, with the threat of her power gone, would finally be able to come through to London just for fun.

A tall, brown-haired man who looked to be in his mid-forties, in jeans, a tweed jacket and white shirt was coming over and interrupted her daydream. Of course, if he was arete that would make him much older. He looked more like a university professor than a doctor. She imagined him at the manor and thought the backdrop of the old building would suit him more than this sterile environment.

‘It’s nice to see you, El,’ Alex said shaking her hand. He got straight to business when he looked at Anna. ‘Shall we go up?’

They followed Alex to the lift.

‘How do you like London?’ He scanned his finger on the entry panel.

El smiled. His tone was light as though he thought she was here to visit all the typical tourist traps. Did he know that instead she’d experienced a car ride that could only be described as getaway paced, been blindfolded multiple times and spent the night a prisoner amongst strangers? She guessed not.

‘I’d like to see more of it,’ she said.

He gave her a cheerful look. ‘I’m sure you will.’

They stood in silence for a few seconds until the lift doors opened onto level fourteen.

The first thing that caught El’s eye was the wall at the far end, constructed of one clear panel. Myriad buildings outside reflected the never-ending jungle of glass and steel. On one side of the area were partitioned rooms – a round table and leather chairs in one and a kitchen with a small dining space in the other. The central area was set up with gleaming counters and luminous, stainless steel cupboards below. A few microscopes and vials rested on the workspace. Along another wall, computers and chairs were interspersed with various refrigerators and machines. A slight odour of disinfectant encompassed everything.

El looked over at the assortment of machines and wondered what Alex did here. ‘So, what type of arete are you?’

Alex laughed. ‘I’m not. I’m human.’

‘But … the finger scanner – the one in the basement – scanned Anna’s blood…’

‘Most of the staff here are arete,’ he said, ‘but any humans working here are on the database and allowed entry. The bottom part of this building, visible to humans, operates as a cosmetic surgery company. It helps to camouflage the fact that the vast majority of people who come through to this part, look no more than thirty. Nymphs working for Endon also make most of the cosmetics here – in the arete section.’

El frowned. ‘So you work for Endon?’

Alex nodded. ‘Anna’s company.’

El gawped at Anna. ‘You own Endon?’

‘Yes,’ Anna said simply as if owning a multi-million, perhaps billion, pound company was the most ordinary thing in the world. ‘Most arete operate companies within the human world. Particularly serpents – the likes of sales, advertising and marketing are suited to our particular skills.

El blinked, startled by her mother’s words. ‘So, arete make money by brainwashing the general public?’

Anna didn’t shy away from El’s judgement. ‘All people use the unique toolset they are given to live in this world,’ Anna said. ‘I choose to use mine to make products that are grown and sourced by nymphs and market and distribute them to humans through serpents. I make a profit, but by using arete to manufacture and circulate, our product is of higher quality to most synthetically produced alternatives and has minimal effects on the natural world. Other brands are contributing to deforestation, the destruction of animal habitats and climate change.’

El didn’t know what to say, but stood looking at her mother. She struck her as a little less aloof – perhaps her detached manner was indicative of her efficiency. A business woman.

Alex laughed and El, realising she was looking rather shell-shocked, rearranged her expression.

‘I know,’ he said, holding open the door to one of the side rooms. ‘A lot to take in, even without Anna’s sales pitch. Basically, the arete world operates within the human world, but uses it as a smokescreen too.’

Alex showed them into the room with the round table and they all took a seat.

‘What I’m trying to do here on the side,’ Alex said, ‘– through Endon’s backing – is research into arete molecular biology. I think it holds the key to curing several, if not all human diseases. As I’m sure you’re aware – arete have an immunity against all infection and disease. The only thing that ages them and ultimately limits their lifespan is that their cells do deteriorate, just at a much slower rate than humans.’

El nodded, but thought about how arete could still be hurt or injured. When she was twelve she’d cracked a rib horse riding and a doctor had come to the house.

She frowned and scrutinised Alex. ‘You were at the house…’

‘When you took a tumble from your horse,’ Alex said. ‘Of course, like you that day, arete can suffer injury, but their treatment is usually managed by friends and family, just as your grandma handled it then. My father treated arete patients and his father before him. You’ll find that the arete world is kind of like the mafia – it’s all kept in the family.’

Anna’s tone was brusque as she chipped in. ‘I’m going to have to leave soon as I’ve got a meeting.’ She looked at her watch.

Her mother’s manner seemed stark following Alex’s jovial tone and El’s temper rose. What was so important to Anna that she was itching to leave again? And still without any real explanation as to what was going on.

El narrowed her eyes. ‘Not until you tell me who the Order are and why they’re interested in me … or I’m going home.’

She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, staring Anna down, determined not to take her eyes off her until she got something. Anna was startled into silence. She stared at El but was the first to look away.

‘El, I want you to go back to a normal life,’ Anna said slowly. ‘Or as normal a one as you can. The threat from the Order should pass in a few days or weeks – Alex is going to give you more of the serum in the meantime, which will keep you hidden.’ She paused, regarding her. Her mother’s eyes were the same bluebell shade as her own but had the addition of a yellow ring like gold dust. ‘In the meantime,’ Anna continued, ‘I’d prefer you not get involved with more than you need to, with anything that might draw you into this world. Can you understand that?’

Hadn’t she just been fantasising about going back to Ingrid and her grandma, her studies and her work at Cobbold House? A carefree summer, with all this behind her. About just being … normal. But she wasn’t normal. And she was stuck here for the moment. She needed to know why.

El nodded but spoke up, ‘I still need to know what’s going on. What do the graeae want with me and my power?’ Surprise flitted across Anna’s face. She clearly hadn’t expected El to find out so much already. ‘Did I do something wrong? Is it against the law to use my power? Is that why they’re looking for me?’

This morning, under the shroud of her sack, El had had plenty of time to consider why the Order might come after her. It was either against the law for arete to use their power or the Order wanted it. She had seen Anna use her power last night and had just learned that she was able to use her power of manipulation on a vast scale for her business. Therefore, El had already concluded that it must be the latter.

Anna hesitated. ‘You manipulated one human,’ she said. ‘To the Order, that’s nothing. If you had compelled a crowd, I could understand them sending someone.’ She halted. Her mouth twisted and she seemed to struggle to say what she wanted.

Already, in the short time El had spent with Anna, she had the distinct impression that she always said exactly what she thought. El’s worry heightened. Her eyes bored into her mother.

‘The only reason the Triad, the most powerful of the graeae would track you like this – after using your power just once – is because they foresaw something. Something they want to stop.’

‘By stop,’ El said, ‘you mean like they stopped Grandma?’ Her heart quickened at the thought of her grandma’s injury. Had it really been self-inflicted like she claimed or had it been the Order’s doing?

‘The Order doesn’t maim,’ Anna said. ‘When I lived with your grandma, she used to tell me that she’d lost her eyes in an accident, but when I left home and found out about the Order, I knew that they must have hunted her. I realised that she must have cut her eyes out to escape them. Because, if the Order had found your grandma, she’d be dead.’

El shook her head. She’d thought Anna looked grave earlier, and suddenly the reason for it settled into place. She was afraid. Her heart hammered as she realised Anna’s collected countenance was beginning to crack. El hadn’t even known that these other arete and this secret world existed until yesterday. Now, it wanted to kill her.

She imagined the graeae’s foresight like a torch beam cleaving the darkness in two. She was reminded of nights out in the fields, the whites of animals’ eyes reflected back at her in the glow of her torch.

‘But,’ Alex said, ‘the serum I gave you will conceal you. You’re safe. And like your mum says, your power will become less visible with time. Once I’ve run a few tests and found out why your power flared last night, we’ll be able to get you back home, safe and sound.’

El only nodded, feeling the weight of everything that had happened again. The hope of a cure was slipping away, but perhaps these tests would give her some answers. She felt stupid for wanting to know the truth. It was bad enough that the Triad wanted her dead, but Anna had confirmed her fears that they had foreseen something in her, something in her that they wanted to stop. There was something different about her. Even in this world there was something wrong with her.

‘If this serum conceals my power, it suppresses it, right?’ El asked. Her mind was leaping around, trying to find some kind of reassurance. ‘Does it mean it’s less likely to go wrong again?’

‘It only shields your power from graeae,’ Alex said. ‘Imagine your power as a radio signal. The serum interrupts its frequency so it makes it hard for the Triad to see and find it.’

El’s heart sank. Her power was as dangerous as ever then. Around humans she was as dangerous as ever.

‘You should know,’ Alex added, ‘your powers are a natural part of you. Once we’ve done some tests, I’m sure we’ll get to the root cause of what’s happening.’

El continued to nod, casting her gaze on the tabletop. It was easy for him to say. He didn’t have to live with this power. He hadn’t been singled out by the Triad either. He wasn’t being hunted.

Anna found her voice again, sounding more familiar – cool and aloof. ‘Right, I really have to get going. I’ll send Dan to collect you once the tests are done.’

El opened her mouth.

‘Not again,’ Anna snapped. ‘This is for your own good, you have to stay.’

El shut her mouth, trying to disguise her hurt at being spoken to so abruptly.

‘What?’ Anna asked.

‘I missed dinner yesterday,’ El said quietly, ‘and I’ve not had breakfast this morning, and would kind of like some lunch…’

She enjoyed Anna’s crestfallen look. Yeah, that’s right, don’t expect to win mother of the year any time soon. At this rate, it wasn’t going to be the Order she had to worry about. It was starving to death. She hadn’t even had a cup of tea yet this morning. It was a miracle she was functioning at all.

Alex’s light-hearted laugh sounded. ‘I’ll get some food. How’s that?’

El’s stomach gave a grateful grumble at the promise.

‘In the meantime,’ he said, going to a filing cabinet in the corner, ‘you can peruse these.’

He presented her with a handful of leaflets. El scanned the top one: So, you're Arete. She opened up the inner sheaf and scanned the subtitle: 10 Things to Know About Being Arete.

She snorted.

‘Useful for those marrying into this stuff,’ Alex said, ‘which is rare but it happens. Better they're informed before their kids start flying.’

El gaped. ‘Is that possible?’

He grinned. ‘See air manipulators.’

Soon Anna and Alex headed to the lift. When the elevator closed, El wrenched open the door in the corner of the lab. She was right in thinking it led to the stairwell and took the steps two at a time. When she peered into the reception at the bottom, Anna was signing out. She strained her senses to detect Anna and Alex’s words and movements.

‘I don’t know, Alex. What was I meant to say?’

‘I don’t think lying like that,’ he said, ‘is the right way. It’s just what your mother did and look how that turned out.’

Without looking, El examined the frown marring Anna’s lips and brow. She’d wondered if she’d hear any more truths by listening in. What had Anna lied about? Was it about why the Order was hunting her? Was it to do with why her power had gone haywire? El worried again that being here was a mistake. She was unsure whether it was her mum’s lies she should be more worried about or whether it was whatever was wrong with her. She felt as if she was a bomb that might detonate at any time.

Footfalls sounded on the stairs behind her. A young man with strawberry-blond hair and pointed features jogged down. As her eyes marked him, his green gaze met hers. He had broad shoulders and was tall, perhaps over six foot. The pale blue shirt he wore accentuated his olive complexion. His gaze felt different to any of the arete she’d met so far, more of a tingle. She felt a residual coolness left by it across her cheek – a water manipulator. But what about that prickly feeling?

She could feel her muscles tensing, his proximity stirring something in her. Not again. Curse all these good-looking guys. She should get a warning tattooed across her forehead so they could avoid her. But, she remembered Dan’s words from the last night. Her power of manipulation only worked on humans. She forced herself to relax and look away, not out of fear, but shyness. She opened the door for the guy.

‘Please, after you,’ he said.

She flushed. Oh, God this was awkward. El breathed more easily as she realised the elevator doors were closing on Anna and Alex. The opportunity for eavesdropping had passed, but at least she could enter the lobby without having to explain that she was a stalker.

She felt her heart flutter as he smiled, revealing an arch of white teeth. The outdoors was stamped all over him – tanned skin, hair that looked naturally lightened by the sun. She imagined that he’d look much more at home in shorts on the beach than the shirt and suit trousers he wore.

Distracted, she was in danger of being shut out from the lab and of Alex finding her dawdling in the lobby. She regretted that she wouldn’t get to talk to this guy, but hurried back through the door. ‘I forgot something upstairs,’ she mumbled.

She felt the cool tingle of his gaze and noticed that the pleasurable sensation marked the back of her neck. As she mounted the stairs, two at a time, the spark of excitement remained. She thought about the leaflets waiting for her upstairs. Never mind air manipulators, the first thing she was going to find out was what type of arete had a gaze that made your skin tingle.

- Chapter Six -

The Puppeteer

Whilst waiting for Alex, El read through the leaflets. She skimmed over how to identify each type of arete. Temperature changes were familiar to her with water and fire manipulators, as well as the weighted sensation she’d experienced with Adam’s eyes or the man’s in the waiting room. She realised the only arete she hadn’t come across yet was an air manipulator, reading that their gaze quickened one’s breathing.

Next, she read about nymphs and recalled yesterday’s conversation at the safe house. There was a familiarity to the words she read and she absorbed the contents easily. Dryad: earth manipulator. Naiad: water nymph. Hesperides: fire. Aurae: air.

Less comfortable was the reading about the different types of serpents. Arete like her. She knew that a fire serpent was a drakon. What she was, and Dan. The rest was new. A water serpent was known as a hydra. She pictured Anna and her chilly stare, and let the word hydra wash through her. An earth serpent was called a ladon, and a typhon manipulated air.

There were a couple of other types of arete who could alter human perception. One with their voice: an arete called a siren, who also manipulated water. The other, a harpy could compel with their breath. Their element was air. El sat for some time wondering about these two other types of arete, empathising with the strain of having their power too.

For most of her life, she’d lived in fear of what her gaze could do. When sitting her exams at school for the first time, she wore sunglasses, desperate to hide her eyes as much as possible. She remembered the terror when the invigilator had told her to take them off. The other students were curious at the sight of a new girl, but she averted her eyes from them, keeping them glued to her paper. She pretended to be studiously checking her answers when all she wanted to do was shove her glasses back on and bolt away.

Finally, hurrying from the exam hall, she was so afraid to look up that she collided with Ingrid. Embarrassed, she’d helped Ingrid gather up her stuff and, with her future friend doing most of the talking, somehow agreed to go for coffee. Months later, Ingrid admitted that she’d taken pity on El’s terminal shyness. Whenever the awkwardness of their first meeting was mentioned, El managed to laugh it off, but she knew that that day had been a massive achievement for her. She imagined how difficult life would have been – equally hard, perhaps even harder – if it were her voice that caused so much fear.

El read that serpents, sirens and harpies’ power tended to be stronger than that of nymphs. Perhaps this was because they had the added ability to alter human perception. She hoped that she’d get to meet some at the safe house. Some more rather. Dan and Anna were serpents after all, but they didn’t exactly seem eager to chat. It would be good to find others to talk to, people dealing with similar things to her.

The last type of arete mentioned were arachnids. They possessed enhanced dexterity, agility and strength, as well as possessing an artistic flair. However, they didn’t have an elemental ability, or any power to alter human perception. Their gaze possessed a tingle or prickle. El thought about the guy in the stairwell and thought he must be one. She swore she’d picked up a coolness to his eyes though. Perhaps she was remembering it wrong.

Alex returned with some lunch, and the secretary from the front desk in tow. He explained she was going to help in El’s tests. First, he took a blood sample and analysed it. He confirmed that there was still enough serum in her bloodstream to shield her from the Triad’s view. They were good to get started on the tests. Alex monitored her blood pressure, as well as her heart rate. A series of graphs and numbers were transmitted to the screen that was hooked up to an electrode headset El was wearing.

She thought that this was all that was involved in the tests, but Alex explained that the secretary had agreed to act as their guinea pig. For a while, El refused to use her power, but with Alex’s reassurance and the administrator’s consent, she reluctantly manipulated the woman. She influenced her to do a few mundane tasks: to pick up objects, walk across the room and share some basic information about herself. Each time El compelled her, Alex recorded the data. He finished up by giving her another injection of serum – enough to last until tomorrow.

When the tests were complete, the secretary left. Alex asked El to talk him through last night’s events. It was the first time she’d spoken to anyone about it. Although she’d heard earlier that the guest was expected to make a full recovery, it wasn’t easy recapping what had happened. Guilt gnawed at her insides as she spoke. She cringed too when she had to explain why she’d got flustered – because she had the hots for the guy. She would have preferred talking to another woman about this stuff; Ingrid, or even her grandma. It would have been nice if her mother had stayed around. Then again, Anna didn’t seem eager to have a heart-to-heart, and El couldn’t see them chatting about boys anytime soon. Perhaps it was better this way. Alex was very professional. In light of this information, he said he’d check for hormonal imbalances too, as that might be a contributing factor.

He began to tidy things away at the side of the lab.

‘I’ve got something else that might interest you,’ he said.

He retrieved a tote bag. Endon was scrawled across the fabric in a bold typescript. Below was the company logo: a silhouette of a face within a face.

‘Nice branding,’ she said. It suited both the cosmetic surgery company and the hidden arete part of the business. The mask-like design reminded her of the kerykeion and how it concealed arete places from humans.

‘Alex?’ she asked. ‘You know how there’s kerykeion veiling this building – and what’s here isn’t visible to humans – how come you can see it?’

‘Any human’s blood incorporated into the kerykeion when its drawn acts as a kind of antidote to the veiling,’ he said. ‘My blood, along with a few other human employees, is within the current one. It is a pain whenever I take on a new human employee, although that’s rare. I have had to get more kerykeion added a couple of times to incorporate them.’

‘So … some humans really do live knowing about the arete world?’ She was thinking about Ingrid and wondering if she’d finally be able to tell her the truth sometime.

‘Some do, yes,’ Alex said. ‘More often than not though, they are just under arete control. I mean, even some of the employees here – top scientists – are manipulated to keep the information they are working on secret. I guess it’s like being a secret agent, but–’

‘Not having a choice in the matter…’

Alex seemed to realise that El was getting close to debating arete ethics again and motioned to the bag of books she held.

El peeked inside. There were three hefty looking books. She drew one out. At first its cover read: The Age of Myth by A. F. Bennett, but soon the kerykeion had morphed on its front, and the words changed. She reread the title: Origins of Arete by A. F. Bennett. Each volume worked the same way and she grinned as the real title appeared on each. A Brief History of Serpents by Tessa Carras. Man or Monster: Understanding the Arete by R. J. Turner.

The kerykeion were more detailed on these covers. El could distinguish that the curly stroke wrapped around the vertical line was, in fact, a snake. Its upper body and head became the horizontal line of the cross. It was clearer now that the upright line was a staff and the rest was the snake twisting around and across its trunk. She recognised the symbol from the signs of medical organisations.

‘That’s the rod of Asclepius,’ she said. ‘Not the kerykeion. She remembered that the kerykeion or caduceus had something to do with Hermes, the Ancient Greek messenger god. It was two snakes around a winged staff.

‘Ah,’ he said, ‘you’re right. That’s the kind of thing Bennet goes into: the origins of arete and the corruptions of their symbols over the years. I don’t have much time for the various hypotheses about where arete come from – beings cursed by ancient gods, as most legends passed down say, or whether they’re from an earlier culture, such as Mesopotamia – but I know your leanings are far more historical than mine.’

He was putting things away and El opened the cover of Man or Monster and skimmed a paragraph:

The hypothesis that all arete power lies in sight is firmly supported by their inability to alter the internal elements within either humans or arete. In theory, gases, fluids, mass and energy within a living organism should be able to be altered by an arete, but a number of case studies have proved unsuccessful. Manipulation of an element can only occur when the subject has the element in their line of sight.

El grimaced. She hadn’t even thought about internal alteration of elements. Altering bodies and their internal processes. Gross. Thank god that wasn’t possible.

‘Granted, not the lightest of reads,’ Alex said, catching her look. ‘Especially that molecular one, but it’ll give you an idea of how your powers are part of your genetic makeup and nothing to fear.’

‘Thanks Alex, that means a lot.’ She smiled, slipping the books back into the bag, and slung it over her shoulder, along with her handbag.

She needed to ask Alex about what she’d overheard between him and Anna. A twinge of annoyance shot through her again at the thought that Anna was being so guarded about things, especially after her grandma had already kept so much from her. She needed to know the truth. So far, Alex had answered all her questions, perhaps he would be more open about things than Anna and her grandma were being.

‘Why isn’t Anna telling me everything that’s going on?’

His jaw tensed. A fleeting look of confusion crossed his features. ‘I'm sorry. I promise I’ll have a word with her again – get her to talk to you.’

Frustration bubbled up: at Anna, at him, at her grandma. She thought of Dan, Adam and Tia too. No one was being completely honest with her. They were all lying. The desire to know blazed through her and became concentrated in her gaze, focussing on Alex.

‘Please, tell me.’

He looked like he was about to say something but his mouth slackened with dawning comprehension. ‘You … didn't?’

Shock flitted across her face. What had she done? And why hadn't it worked?
Her cheeks burned with shame, and panic started to grow. Why hadn’t it worked? What was going on with her power? Then she remembered the injection: the concealment. It was only supposed to hide her, that’s what Alex had said. She’d been able to control the secretary an hour ago but with this fresh dose of serum her power seemed to be blocked. Alex had said it didn’t work that way. Had he lied about that too?

Alex ran his hands through his hair and turned his back on her. A pang of sickness rocked her stomach. He couldn't bear to look at her it seemed. But how much had he altered her power? Why hadn’t he explained the effect this serum would have? She had a sinking realisation that she couldn’t trust him – couldn’t trust anyone.

She hurried the short distance to the lift; it opened immediately. Ignoring Alex’s shout from behind her, she pressed the close button, relieved as the metal ensconced her. The feeling of disgust consumed her, then hollowness. Her thoughts spiralled. Tears distorted her vision and she wiped at them angrily. As soon as the lift stopped, she stormed towards the stairwell, throwing her visitor’s badge at the receptionist.

The exit brought her out at street level, in front of the concrete building. She set off down the street at a march. She glanced back at the sheen of glass rising into the sky – the arete section she had just been in. It was disconcerting to see the glass building vanishing as she got further away. The squat, concrete block was left unadorned like a tree stump, its trunk newly felled.

El didn’t know, or care, where she was going, but needed to move. She knew she shouldn’t leave the hospital, but couldn’t face Alex after what she’d done. And, after what he’d done. She had been wishing her power away and now – perhaps – it was. She felt strange. Empty.

Alex had told her the serum concealed her power, but it did more. It did suppress it. How buried was it? She remembered the heat flaring upwards and into her eyes in the lab, but it had had no effect on Alex. Could she still feel it? Was the power still there? She caught the eye of a woman walking towards her, and before she knew it, was willing her to stop. She felt the familiar heat rise. Suddenly, as she tried to focus on the command, the heat dissipated. The woman walked on. She’d passed her by. El’s breath caught in her throat and her mouth became dry.

Her gaze shot forward, latching onto a man skateboarding along the pavement. Again, she felt the warmth funnelling into her eyes and then receding; the man rolled past. She started to stride, her eyes darted to every person she passed, willing them to stop.

Just as the panic was starting to gain a foothold, she realised it was working. One man stopped, two, a group of women, a mother and son, a pair of businessmen. Everyone on this side of the street who approached halted and stood like statues. Amidst their immobile features, El’s smile grew as if she was imbibing their emotion. The number of frozen strangers increased as she locked eyes with everyone that came near. The confused expressions melted away, replaced with the same blandness as those of their neighbours.

A man neared the group. He looked around at the motionless inhabitants of the street. El recognised him. The strawberry-blond haired man from Endon. His eyes jumped from person to person – their features became animated and their limbs awoke. They hurried past, on their way again as if nothing had happened. When the throng dispersed, the man gripped El’s arm.

‘Come on,’ he said, his tone low and urgent.

He frog-marched her along the street. El flushed at what she’d done – she was supposed to be lying low and here she was hypnotising a street load of people in central London. She knew the serum hid her from the Order, but after she’d used it on the secretary she’d needed a fresh dose to maintain the concealment. The latest one was meant to last another day but had she disrupted its protection? Was she now visible to the Triad?

Her gaze wandered over the fronts of buildings, trying to still her mind and latch onto something solid. Beige and grey bricks melded together, but she knew none of the structures could be trusted. Which ones were real? Which ones would change when they neared them? Everything seemed insubstantial; the whole world was smoke that might be blown away with one gust of wind.

With a stab of fear, El realised that they were rushing away from Endon. They were going the wrong way. A kerykeion appeared on a stone wall to their left, and she gasped as an archway sprang into existence, widening and stretching as they raced through.

- Chapter Seven -

No Man’s Land

Expecting to find a concrete area through the archway, El was surprised to see what greeted her was far from bare and lacklustre. A downy meadow stretched out before them: the pastel blues of corn flowers, yellow buttercups and red poppies sprinkled the grass. Tall trees surrounded a lake on the far side; shouts and laughter rose from its banks. Other arete.

They’d attached a long fabric line between two trees on either side of the water and were slacklining across. Every now and then one performed an astonishing somersault before landing nimbly back on the narrow webbing. Watching them rise and fall it seemed like they were flying. If they were air manipulators, they were likely controlling the air currents to lift and support them.

The man dropped her arm and scowled. El blinked, startled at the anger etched across his face.

‘You’re one of them,’ he said.

He seemed a different person to the one she’d met in the hospital; the laid-back persona he’d exuded evaporated as his eyes bored into her. She didn’t admire his physique anymore but felt intimidated by his tall, muscular form. What did he mean? One of them? Affronted, she tried to move towards the door. In a flash, he was even closer. She frowned and looked up at him. He may have cleaned up her mistake there but that didn’t give him the right to be a jerk.

‘Leave me alone,’ she said.

A smirk marred his features. ‘After that stunt?’

She flushed. She couldn’t believe what she’d done either. It was reckless. Stupid. It had only been a few hours since she’d found out that the guest she’d put in the hospital was going to recover, and yet, she’d put a crowd of innocent people in harm’s way. She hung her head. He was right. She needed babysitting.

‘Can you walk me back to Endon?’ she asked, feeling deflated.

‘I think it best if we wait for the Order to get here,’ he said.

El paled. The Order? What did he mean? She recalled what her mother had said earlier, about how the Order wouldn’t think anything of her compelling one human but would surely send someone if she used her power on a crowd.

The Triad wouldn’t have seen her though. They wouldn’t send anyone because she was hidden from them. Doubt crept through her. After the first injection of serum last night, Anna had still warned her not to use her power. Today Alex had been okay about her using it on the secretary a few times but only with a fresh dose of serum at hand. And this time she’d manipulated a crowd. Perhaps the more people she used her manipulation on, the more visible her power became.

Her heart thundered in her ears. Her mother’s warning beat through her too: if the Order had found your grandma, she’d be dead. El bolted towards the doorway, her body flooding with adrenalin, pushing her legs to run full pelt. She wished that she’d never left the lab. She hoped that she wouldn’t pay too great a price for her mistake.

Suddenly, her shoulder was wrenched back and her breath was knocked out of her. She grimaced in pain and opened her eyes to see that the man had pinned her against the wall. He held her wrists securely above her head. Ingrid was into judo – she would have known what to do right now, whereas she was useless. El wished she’d learnt something from her friend about self-defence.

The man’s gaze felt tingly across her face. Feather soft. Secretly, she enjoyed the sensation, but quickly reproached herself, especially since he had her hands held in an iron grip.

The prickle in his stare distinguished him as an arachnid. They didn’t possess an elemental power, but were the athletes of the arete world: swift moving, with lightning-fast reflexes and great strength. She didn’t have a chance of escaping. However, in the street he’d got those humans moving too and his gaze also possessed a slight coolness. He must be a water serpent, a hydra. Could he be both hydra and arachnid?

‘Someone will be here soon,’ he said. His eyes kept shifting to the door.

‘You said I was one of them. What did you mean?’

A momentary look of confusion crossed his features. ‘Don’t play games.’

‘I’m not,’ she said quickly. ‘I’ve just found out about this world – about arete … I mean, I knew that I was a serpent but I didn’t know there were others. I’m just starting to find out about things. You caught me at a bad moment – I’ve just had a shock…’

He watched her earnestly before suspicion cloaked his features. He still searched the doorway for any sign of someone coming. El peered out at the meadow and the lake instead. This place was like an oasis in the desert. Turning her head a fraction, it was strange to see the grey concrete pavements and road through the archway. Despite the apparent proximity, the rumble and blare of the traffic beyond was veiled. If you looked in at the meadow, all traces of the city and its people were gone.

She frowned as the man continued to look out at the street. ‘Can’t we just go back to Endon?’ she said. ‘I need to see Alex–’

‘Alex?’ he said, letting go of her wrists. ‘You were seeing Alex?’

El nodded, rubbing her wrists and feeling the blood flow returning to them. ‘Do you know him?’

He nodded. ‘He’s been letting me do work experience at the hospital the last few months – to help me with my university application for Med school.’

El was surprised. If he was applying for university, he was likely around her age. Once more she realised how difficult it was to gauge any arete’s true age.

‘But I thought arete didn’t really need doctors?’

‘They don’t, most the time, but I’d like to put my abilities to good use. When I’m not helping arete, I could be treating humans.’

‘Oh, I see. That’s cool,’ she said. ‘My granddad was human. Maybe if he’d had an arete doctor he might have lived longer.’

His lips curled, but he was still alert. The leaflet stated that the mythical hero “swift-footed Achilles” was thought to have been of arachnid descent. Running wasn’t an option. She was going to have to talk her way out of here.

‘I think I need to sit down,’ she said, wrapping her arms around herself.

‘Sure.’ He pointed over to the far side of the meadow. ‘The beach?’ The shadow of a smile rested in the corners of his lips. Except for the lake, he’d chosen the area furthest from the exit.

El examined the far corner – a sandy spot where red and white striped deckchairs were laid out. There was even an artificial eddy of waves, where a few metres of water flowed back and forth, mimicking the motion of the sea. It reminded her of those old movies with painted backdrops, where the actors performed in front of static city or landscapes. Filled with a sense that nothing was real, she looked for something to ground her. The coffee kiosk on the beach enticed her. She nodded. She could murder a cup of tea.

It didn’t take long before they had takeaway cups and were settled in deckchairs.

‘I’m El by the way.’

‘Luke.’

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both at a loss for what to say. Luke seemed stumped that no Order member had shown up and began to scowl at the archway again. She had to get back to the lab but wanted to know what he had meant about her being “one of them”. He clearly thought she’d manipulated all those people deliberately. A wave of guilt surged through her as she thought about the humans she’d manipulated. She had treated them like they were no more than playthings – pawns on a chessboard. She was a monster. Is that what Luke thought of her too?

‘I really didn’t mean to do what I did to those people,’ she said, offering an olive branch.

He shrugged.

‘What did you mean when you said I was one of them?’

He fixed his eyes on her. ‘I still think you know. I think you know more than you say – I mean – why hasn’t the Order sent someone?’

El shrugged, mimicking his gesture and tried to look innocent.

‘Well, I’m calling someone to find out.’

Her façade crumbled as he reached for his mobile. Was the Order the equivalent of the emergency services? Could you just dial a number and have them here in the blink of an eye?

‘No, don’t,’ she said.

‘Why?’

What could she say? She sat frozen for a few seconds. ‘They’re already looking for me.’

He nodded as if unsurprised.

Her voice grew louder. ‘They’re looking for me because they want to kill me.’

Incredulity flitted across his face. He stared at her for a moment, before frowning.

‘El,’ he said more softly. ‘The Order doesn’t kill people. How could you say that? But … if you just found out about arete, whoever told you that the Order wants to kill you, is lying. When I said you were one of them, I meant that you were a rebel – someone who works against the Order.’

El frowned and shook her head. What was he saying? That the people who were tracking her weren’t dangerous. But Anna never would have come for her if it hadn’t been necessary. She’d never bothered to come to see her before. She thought of her grandma too. She’d cut her eyes out to escape the Order. Now Luke claimed they weren’t dangerous. He didn’t know what he was talking about. Unease knotted itself in her stomach. She had to go.

‘Hear me out,’ Luke said, seeing her restlessness, ‘I just want you to hear both sides, okay?’

His concern made her hesitate. She felt a gnawing sense of doubt come over her. Anna didn’t look at her like that. She was cold and business-like. El nodded.

‘The Order governs the arete world. It’s mostly made up of serpents.’ He paused and looked at her searchingly. ‘Arete who are like you and me–’

‘But I thought you were an arachnid?’ El blurted out.

‘I am … on my mother’s side, but mostly hydra.’

The flicker of a smile crossed her lips and she nodded. She knew what serpents and hydra were. Then again, up until last night she hadn’t known that she was a drakon.

He smiled bashfully. ‘Okay – well – Order members are responsible for shielding the arete world from humans. It’s how we can live side by side as you’ve seen. In peace.’

‘Because of the kerykeion,’ she said.

‘Exactly. But that’s what the rebels are against. They’ve found a way to dissolve the kerykeion. They want to destroy the glue that holds our world together–’

‘But the Triad? They saw me. They’re after me.’

‘That’s nothing to fear. It’s a great honour.’

When she looked suspicious, he held up his hands. ‘Okay. Full disclosure – my father’s an Order member.’

Her breath caught in her throat. Should she run?

‘Hey, I won’t hold it against you if you don’t add me on Facebook.’

El let out a laugh. Some of the tension eased. ‘Okay … go on.’

‘Well, I’ve been training the last year and a half and still haven’t got into the Olympia yet. You have to do well enough in trials to qualify for elemental matches in an Olympia. Then, once through all three arenas, you can join the Order. But being seen by the Triad means being fast tracked to an Olympia – fast tracked to the elemental matches.’

She shook her head. ‘Look, I don’t know anything about any Olympia or matches, but just tell me straight, why should I care about the Order?’

He fell silent and regarded her seriously. ‘Because the Order keeps both arete and humans safe. If you’re not with the Order, you’re with the rebels and they don’t care about anything. They’re responsible for dissolving the kerykeion in hundreds of places, for attacks, for the countless deaths of both humans and arete.’

She could tell he believed strongly in what he was saying. She hesitated as unease took hold of her. Luke had said that he knew Alex. That’s when he’d let her go.

El tried to frame her question carefully. ‘You said you worked for Alex. Why choose him? There must be other doctors? Even some arete ones that you could work for.’

‘Alex is one of the only people trying to research arete biology to help humans. It was a no-brainer to work for him.’

El nodded. Luke was helping with Alex’s arete molecular research but that didn’t mean that he knew everything about the doctor. Until she found out the truth about the Order and the rebels, she had to keep it that way. She hadn’t said anything to implicate that it was Alex who was keeping her hidden from the Order. Yet Luke was already suspicious. She had to choose her words carefully. Did he suspect that she had the concealment in her blood? And if he suspected that, it wasn’t much of a leap to incorporate Alex into the equation.

Even as her mind whirled with these thoughts, she couldn’t help coming back to Anna and Alex lying to her. Luke said that being seen by the Triad meant being fast tracked to competing in the elemental matches. Hadn’t her mother said that she wanted to keep her from being drawn into this world? Perhaps, Anna had lied about the Order and the Triad because she wanted to keep her from this. Perhaps she was getting help from the rebels – Dan, Adam and Tia – but ordinarily had nothing to do with it. El tried to explain it away that easily, but it didn’t add up. A chill ran down her spine as she thought more on what Luke had said. If the Order was the law, did that make Anna, her grandma and her criminals?

Luke’s face clouded over as his eyes skimmed the doorway. El imagined turning to see a group of people in dark, flowing robes marching towards her. Her hands began to sweat as she turned to see Dan striding towards them. He looked hawk-like, his eyes pinned on her. She noticed that he was as tall as Luke. He was wearing a grey T-shirt today and blue jeans with trainers. The lighter clothes flattered his dark skin and features.

Dan looked like he meant to wrench her up as he neared. Luke jumped to his feet and was in front of her in seconds. She clambered to her feet too. Dan’s quick eyes assessed Luke and a look of satisfaction flitted across his face.

El sensed that they would welcome the fight and spoke up. ‘It’s fine. I need to go and sort this out.’

Luke allowed her past, his eyes fixed on Dan with the same suspicion he’d eyed her with earlier.

‘Thanks for the chat, she said.’ She smiled as she thought she’d been more captive audience than willing participant in their discussion. He seemed to be thinking along the same lines as a look of confusion flitted across his features, before matching her smile.

‘You sure you’re okay?’ Luke asked, his eyes skimming Dan.

Luke’s words had raised goosebumps on her arms and she wondered if his distrustful gaze was right to brand Dan a criminal. Even so, she had to find out the truth from Anna. She was her mother after all. Surely she needed to give her the benefit of the doubt. Her heart raced as she considered: who could she trust?

But she nodded and walked on, hoping that Dan would follow and that Luke wouldn’t start a fight, or call the Order. She chanced a look back and felt the brush of his gaze on her cheek once more. Then she walked back into the city as though stepping out from a dream.

- Chapter Eight -

Rebels and Runaways

By the time they got back to Endon’s basement car park, the silence was entrenched. El had tried a couple of times to draw Dan into talking, but he was set on ignoring her. On reaching the van, she was disappointed that Adam wasn’t there, knowing she’d have a better chance of wheedling something out of him.

‘Where’s Adam?’ she asked.

‘Where I should be.’

It was clear that Dan was going to rebuff any attempt at conversation. An oppressive silence settled again. El decided to look on the bright side; Dan was in such a foul mood that he seemed to have forgotten the blindfold. Or perhaps he was afraid to ask her to wear it. She almost wished that he would, wanting to have a reason to shout at him. If she provoked him enough, he might let some truths slip.

For the first time, the streets of the city were drenched in sunlight and stretched out visibly before her. El surreptitiously drew out one of the books Alex had given her. She peeked at Dan to check he hadn’t noticed that she was reading. His focus was on the road, his jaw set in grim resolve. El suspected it was her rather than the road that he was mad at. He seemed as set on keeping her in the dark as Anna was. She hunched more to try to shield the thick volume.

She’d deliberately pulled out the one about serpents. Perhaps there’d be something in here that could shed some light on the Order and the rebels. At this point, she wouldn’t mind whether she found something to either confirm or contradict what Luke had said. She just wanted answers. Skimming the introduction, she came to the first chapter entitled, The Function of the Serpent. A lot of the author’s words seemed infused with severity and to reaffirm what Luke had said. She read:

The serpent power is central to keeping the arete world veiled. This has meant that serpents are bound by duty, honour and tradition to create and protect the kerykeion.

The book told of times throughout history when this duty had been neglected and arete power had drawn the suspicion of the human populace. The author pointed out that during witch trials in the Medieval inquisitions, such as Torsaker, North Berwick and Salem, a high proportion of arete had lived in these areas. Failure to create and maintain the kerykeion effectively had been a contributing factor in starting the witch hunts.

The academic material made for dry reading. After scanning a few more pages, El closed the book, distracted by the angry blare of car horns sounding in their wake. Dan was jumping lanes wherever he could – driving like a maniac. They were hurtling along a road flanking the river Thames. She kept expecting to see flashing, blue lights behind them. Open-topped, red tour buses teemed along the roads, while on the river ferries cruised with equally full decks.

The van pulled away from the river and the queue of traffic became thicker. The top of Nelson’s column appeared up ahead. Dan pulled into a narrow side street. She doubted they were making a stop for a bit of sightseeing.

‘Stay here,’ he said.

El glared after him as he threw the door shut and ran across the road into a building on the corner opposite. It was four-storeys high, its entrance colonnaded and a decorative clock sat halfway up. For a couple of minutes, she watched the entrance. The fact that she was being kept out of the loop again weighed heavily on her.

Luke’s words kept circling around her head. Why was he the only one who had confided anything to her? It was Anna and Dan who were skulking around like criminals. What was she doing just sitting here, waiting? She could just leave now. Walking through London by herself scared her though. What if she lost control of her power? And what would happen when the concealment ran out? Foreboding filled her at the thought of the Triad seeing her and the Order finding her. But what if Luke was right? Mistrust of Anna and Dan took hold and made her restless. She couldn’t just sit here doing nothing.

She slipped the flowery kimono off, shrugged on her bag and opted to leave the books in the van. She felt less conspicuous in the black vest top as she jogged over to the building. Through the door was a large, yellow lobby with sumptuous, period sofas and a reception desk. There was no one present.

She tuned into sounds in the area and caught the resonant tone that she recognised as Dan’s, further back in the building.

‘You’ve done it. Let’s go.’

Another male voice, higher pitched answered, ‘No, Jim’s had all the fun.’

A mixture of laughter, awash with a scream, sent a chill down El’s spine. She walked through a pair of double doors, still listening as she moved slowly along the corridor.

‘That’s nothing,’ another voice said.

In the corridor gilt mirrors were interspersed with oil paintings of rural landscapes; the yellow and orange fields were reflected in the glass so that their bright patchwork wound along both sides of the corridor. The golden pastures were steeped in both the sunshine in the scenes and the rays that pierced the windows set high up in the wall. As El crept down the passage amidst the ripening corn, it was as though the quiet, rustic scenes were trying to mask what was occurring in the room beyond.

She reached the end of the hall and peered through the crack in the door: an office – wide, spacious, grandly decorated. With her heightened senses, she already had a good idea of the occupants in the room, having felt the heat emanating from their bodies.

Dan stood nearest the door, two other men stood in the centre of the room, and another behind a large, heavy desk. The wiry man in the centre laughed as he rammed a pair of thick-rimmed glasses back onto the face of the man next to him, who had tears in his eyes and was noticeably older – a human.

The thicker-set man at the desk now caught the gaze of the human. ‘He’s just an andreko.’

El felt a prickle of fear at his derisive tone. What were they doing to this human? A flurry of anger swept through her as she noticed the man at the desk, smile. Confusion flitted across the human’s face before his hand slapped his own cheek. He did it again and again, whilst the man at the desk laughed at his handiwork.

El swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat.

‘That’s enough,’ Dan said, but the wiry man had already flicked his eyes to the human. The man stopped hitting himself and lurched across to the side of the room, reaching for something.

El realised too late he wasn’t reaching for something, but into something. His scream rent the air as a spray of blood was churned up from the shredder, into which he’d fed his own hand. El felt the bite of each metal tooth as the machine ground into his skin, the blades cutting a lattice. She lurched back and bolted down the hall. A rush of panic shot through her. She had to get away. She pushed her legs to go faster and raced out the front door. She squealed as she ran into someone. She looked up into emerald eyes. Luke.

‘I followed, I heard–’ he said.

El looked back over her shoulder and saw Dan hurrying into the lobby. The bright colour of the reception was obscured by the flurry of black suits as the other men issued into the reception too, towards them.

‘Go,’ El cried.

Another wave of fear flashed through her. She was on the wrong side. Luke was right. He yanked her arm – and this time she followed him without question – crossing the street, sprinting to a silver car. He lost no time and slid across the bonnet to the driver’s side. El yanked open the other door and jumped in.

‘Go, go,’ she shouted, slamming the door and pushing the lock down.

Luke started the engine, and with a quick manoeuvre, accelerated down the road towards Nelson’s Column. El watched the tall, dark man over her shoulder recede, but before they’d reached the end of the road, she saw the van skidding out onto the street.

Trafalgar Square passed in a blur as El searched behind, scanning the road and the roundabout, dreading the moment when the van would reappear. They turned down another street and there was still no sign of the vehicle. The traffic lights were in their favour too and, jumping lanes, Luke wove through the traffic, taking a series of side streets until they were firing past the Thames. When they took a bridge across the bustling waterways El’s fright finally began to ebb.

* * *

After a short while, Luke parked up on the pavement near a church. He listened grimly to her account of what had happened and in turn explained how he’d followed her, worried that she didn’t fully appreciate what sort of people she was dealing with. El still didn’t feel that she understood. Those rebels had injured that human just for fun. They had spoken about him contemptuously, calling him an andreko as though he was no more than an animal.

Luke explained that there were some arete who believed that they were a higher race than humans and that the word andreko literally translated as “that which is below”. The memory of the human’s hand being torn and ground made El’s teeth itch. It all blurred in her frenzied mind and seemed to mingle with the thud of the guest’s body at Cobbold House.

They were receiving quite a few looks from curious passers-by – where they were parked definitely wasn’t legal. It wasn’t until a traffic warden approached that Luke jumped out of the car. He grabbed a sheet of paper and hipflask from the dashboard. El watched him upturning the container and, with his finger, draw a vertical line on the paper. He added a snaking line, finishing with a horizontal slash, before tucking the paper under one of the windscreen wipers. It didn’t matter that the mark was faint and that the liquid added extra lines as it dripped; immediately the warden and the bystanders withdrew.

Nearby, people were issuing down the steps and coming up from the embankment. A few days ago, she wouldn’t have believed that she could feel such reassurance amidst a multitude of humans, but now there was safety in numbers; safety in being one of the many.

Was the river a sufficient barrier between her and the rebels though? Soon El’s wariness crept back. It wasn’t fear of the graeae tracking her that consumed her now, but of the rebels. She wondered how Dan had found her earlier in the meadow.

‘El…’ Luke said. His gaze was a tingle across her cheek.
‘I’d like you to come with me tonight to an Order meeting.’

El frowned. The terrible warning that Anna had given her still echoed through her head: if the Order had found your grandma, she’d be dead.

‘I don’t trust the rebels,’ she said, ‘but that doesn’t mean I want to go to some Order try-out either.’

‘It’s not a try-out. I mean, you can try out if you want but you don’t have to. I know plenty of arete who just go there to hang out. My brother Josh is an arachnid and can’t compete because he doesn’t have an elemental power – he still goes.’

When El looked unconvinced, he grew solemn. There was an urgency to his bright eyes, which contrasted with their cooling quality.

‘Please, El. I want you to come and see the other side. I don’t want these people to hurt someone else I care about.’

Warmth spread through her. He cared about her. His open, earnest look was soothing and her skin tingled as he gazed at her. Although it possessed a coolness, it wasn’t cold. It was like a spring morning, when the air is at its freshest and seems to kiss your cheek. In the evening light, his eyes were still bright, but softer. She felt safe with him. She believed him or wanted to. Doubt crept through her again. She’d learned that even those closest to her seemed not to deserve her trust. Plus, she’d only just met Luke. Why was he so determined to help her?

‘Look, it’s not that I’m not grateful for all your help, but I just don’t know at the moment what’s real–’

‘What’s real is the danger you’re in because of what’s in your blood. That serum is part of a rebel weapon, used to hide them from the authorities and break the kerykeion.’

El paled. He knew. How long had he known that her blood contained the concealment?

His voice was softer when he spoke, ‘Six years ago, the first attacks on the kerykeion started. There were a series of targeted assaults all over London and in other major cities. Before that day, they had never been able to be undone, only added to. But in hundreds of public places, the kerykeion were dissolved.

‘My family lived in New York at the time. The rebels were disrupting the power of the kerykeion in order to draw Order members out. When they came to remark them, the rebels attacked. Hundreds of arete and humans got caught in the crossfire. My mother died.’

El’s blood ran cold. She remembered the way he’d talked so passionately in the meadow about the Order upholding justice, about keeping the arete and human world joined and stable. She realised that he had a very real reason to hate the rebels. He’d said he didn’t want someone else he cared about to be hurt by them because he’d suffered personally, at their hands.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said quietly.

He didn’t look up and El knew his brow was furrowed to keep a handle on his pain. She thought of her granddad and how lost she’d been when he passed away. His death had been of natural causes. She couldn’t imagine how Luke must have felt, a boy dealing with the murder of his mother. She thought too of how passionately Luke had spoken of helping humans in the future with his abilities and understood his drive to do so even more now. His mother, an arachnid, would have had no elemental power or manipulation over humans. Apart from the athletic abilities Luke had inherited from her, she would have been defenceless in any fighting that had occurred. Human almost.

She wanted to soothe him, to say that she’d do whatever he thought best, but she needed to think logically.

Her voice was tentative, ‘Luke, I understand that you’d like me to go to the Order meeting and see the other side, but with this … thing … in my blood, I’d be classed as a rebel. I shouldn’t go anywhere near them until it wears off.’

He fixed his eyes determinedly on her. ‘Don’t you see? You’ve been seen by the Triad already. What do you think will happen when your power comes back into their field of vision? They’ll find you. And how do you think it’ll look if they find this weapon that can dissolve kerykeion in your blood. Even if you remain hidden until it’s out of your system, you will still need to explain how you concealed yourself.’

She looked away. Anna and Alex had said her power would gradually become less visible if she didn’t use it, and if she kept taking the serum. Is that what she should do – go back? She pictured strolling into Alex’s lab or tracking down Anna’s office within Endon and conceding to remain hidden. She couldn’t go back. She couldn’t remain ignorant. She had to find out the truth about the Order and the rebels.

‘But … if I come forward to the Order, they’re going to ask questions. And even if the rebels are what you say they are – don’t ask me why, Luke – but I can’t give information about them.’

‘I understand,’ he said. ‘But can’t you see that it’s better that you come forward yourself? The Triad have foreseen your power and will fast track you to the Olympia once you’re ready to compete. If you present yourself, they’re going to have nothing to reproach you with. If you wait and they find you later, you look … guilty.’

El twisted her plait. Was this the right move? She just didn’t know.

‘Besides,’ Luke said. ‘My dad will be there. Will you let me talk to him about this? He’ll know what to do.’

She wasn’t exactly reassured but as Luke smiled, his eyes hopeful, she wanted to go with him.

‘So where’s this meeting, Spidey?’ she said, a smile surfacing.

- Chapter Nine -

Meet and Greet

The red-bricked building on Clerkenwell Close was illuminated by a series of black lampposts that rose up at their approach. Their warm glow drew the eye: gas powered. Adorning each post was an iron snake. El held onto the railings as they proceeded down some stairs, feeling hemmed in as the walls climbed on either side. Her movement and the flickering light made it seem as though the snakes were shifting in the shadows.

‘Clerkenwell Catacombs,’ Luke said. ‘People use the vault space for parties.’

There was a stocky, female bouncer standing in the entrance, who looked like she was about to tell them that they were gate-crashing, but moved aside when Luke’s eyes fell on her.

They bypassed the human party; the kerykeion was already surfacing on one of the stone walls to the left of them. An archway opened, leading to a semi-circular tunnel that stretched out ahead of them. Burning torches were clasped in iron mounts, even more archaic than the lamps outside. El looked uncertainly at the indistinct corridor. The feeling of unease flitted away as Luke clasped her hand and they walked on. She imagined asking Ingrid if attending a meeting of a mysterious organisation in a secret underground lair counted as a date. The torches were basically candlelight so decided that it was fair to call it one.

The arched corridors were vast and seemed to go on and on. They turned right and came to a tunnel that broadened out into a wide, vaulted room. At the far end was a rectangular, stone platform, which El supposed was for the trials. After a moment’s trepidation, she reminded herself that she wouldn’t need to compete. They were only here to talk to Luke’s father.

Around the rest of the room, smaller rectangular stages were set up, with training structures around these – trenches for cover against enemy elements. There were large, circular pits in the centre of the room too: a great pile of rocks in one, a fire glowing brightly in a brazier in the centre of another, a third filled to the brim with dark, ominous looking water. El recalled what she’d read in the molecular biology book that Alex had given her. Arete had to be able to see the element to manipulate it.

She felt the flurry of sensation as other arete glanced their way. The touch of their eyes seemed as distinct as different coloured flames in the dark. One moment a flurry of cold as a water arete’s gaze skimmed her, the next a feeling of heaviness as the eyes of an earth manipulator settled. She felt her breath quicken as an air arete’s eyes flew over her. Each time the flurry of warmth came, she threw a startled look around, worried that she’d find Dan’s dark eyes searing into her like hot coals.

An Asian girl, who looked a little younger than her, perhaps fifteen or so, stared at the flames in the central pit. Her gaze alone drew the fire and wove it in spirals in the air above. El admired the circles she drew; her movement was so deft that she formed enough to paint a blossom. The fiery petals shrank and grew so fast that it looked as though the bud was opening.

The girl's eyes flicked to El. With her concentration disturbed, the flames withered and sputtered out. A cloud of smoke collapsed around her, its soft vapour suiting her more than the bright flame. There was something gentle about her face and delicate figure.

There were other arete standing about the room on platforms, manipulating the elements from the central pits and casting them to one another as if they were playing catch. Others looked less conspicuous and stood around chatting. El had asked Luke for more information about the elemental competitions on the way here. She’d thought arete couldn’t use their power on one another. He’d verified that that was only the case with the power of mental manipulation. In the elemental matches, arete used their manipulation of the elements to compete with one another. El watched the flickering flames in awe, their colours reflected in the surfaces of rushing water, while twisters of wind and rock clouded the air.

Luke had joined a group and was waving to her.

‘This is El, everyone,’ he said. ‘El, this is my brother, Josh.’

El shook hands with a guy whose hair and complexion were darker than Luke’s. His eyes prickled and she noticed their lack of coolness. They were more tingly than Luke’s too.

‘And this is Eva and Will,’ said Luke.

El greeted the girl. Her skin was the shade of mahogany and almost glossy in the glow of the fire pit. With her warm, glowing eyes it seemed as if a fire goddess had been incarnated.

Will on the other hand was unassuming, in a black T-shirt and jeans, his shaggy hair slicked back. El didn’t know where to look however when his eyes fell on her – he was an air manipulator. She suspected he was a harpy, not only because of the effect he had on her breathing, but because of the tattoo winding up his arm. A flock of birds beat their wings as if they were about to fly from his skin. In mythology, harpies where often portrayed as people with bird’s wings and talons.

‘Sorry,’ El said, blushing as she realised she’d been holding onto Will’s hand, side-tracked by his moving tattoo.

‘Takes your breath away, doesn’t it?’ he said with a grin. ‘Got it last week for my eighteenth.’

The others started to tease him.

‘Multiple kerykeion,’ Luke whispered. ‘Each part of the tattoo is done with a different kerykeion worked into it. A kind of layered effect so that it gives the illusion of movement.’

El nodded, still enthralled by the tattoo. ‘It’s kind of distracting, isn’t it?’

Luke grinned. ‘Think he already regrets it.’

She suppressed a laugh.

The click of heels punctuated the hum of conversation – the sound bounced off the stone walls, growing in volume, and suffocated the chatter. A woman entered the space. Everyone turned to look. There was a sharp quality to the sway of her hips, highlighted by the low-slung belt over the black tunic she wore. The heels of her knee length boots were harsh on the stone floor and, rimmed in metal, made a dull, grinding sound. Her hair was raked back into a ponytail, its raven hue, as well as her bronzed skin, sleek in the firelight.

A man followed, wearing a black suit. His brown hair was cropped short. A third pair of heels issued into the room and El looked at the slim, blonde-haired woman in a silk dress. The woman’s face blanched as she caught sight of El, but her eyes were quick to seek refuge in the other arete gathered.

El’s heart pounded. What was Anna doing here? She’d run away from her mother as she’d thought she was a rebel. Now Anna was attending an Order meeting. She felt her breathing quicken and realised the raven-haired woman was gazing at her, relishing the sight of her. The sensation jarred El. She’d just experienced it with Will a few minutes ago but that’s not where she recalled it from. El stared at the woman’s angular features and knew she recognised her from somewhere.

El’s breathing was becoming erratic and her heart raced faster and faster. This woman was an air arete like Will but much more powerful. She felt just like she had last night – when she’d first seen this woman. When she had given the talk at Cobbold House. She knew now it was the residual power of the woman’s gaze affecting her breathing, but nevertheless, its effect was powerful and El had to work consciously to steady herself.

Even before the raven-haired woman opened her mouth, El knew that she was trapped. The woman flashed a wide smile at the crowd. The memory of her sharp grin burned in El’s mind – a knowing smile. The same one that had toyed with her last night at the talk, savouring the fact that she was playing havoc with her emotions. The smile that said she’d enjoyed heightening her anxiety and causing her to lose control of her power. A subtle weapon, which El had learned of too late.

There was nothing subtle about the woman’s voice as it filled the room, ‘This week the Order is having a special recruitment drive. There will be no need for trials tonight. Please come forward to present your blood. Every one of you is permitted at the London Olympia this week.’ She fixed her eyes on El. ‘And we trust that each one of you will be happy to support the vigilance of the Order.’

- Chapter Ten -

The Procession

Most arete, after standing in shock for a few seconds, rushed forwards to present themselves as though worried that the offer would be repealed. El hung back. Luke drew her to the end of the queue.

‘This isn’t normal,’ he murmured. ‘I’m going to talk to my father.’

El stared blankly ahead at the rest of the line, wishing that she could fade into the shadows of the catacombs.

Luke murmured something else, but she was barely listening. He still thought a chat with his father would solve things, but one glimpse of the raven-haired woman had told El that that was impossible. This was a trap. The blood in her veins was marred with whatever weapon the rebels were using to dissolve the kerykeion: a fact about to be exposed to the Order.

Just ahead of them, Will was taking the mickey out of Josh and asking how an arachnid would compete in a match without an elemental ability. He spent most of the next few minutes in a headlock as Luke’s brother was eager to prove that – although lacking in elemental ability – he wasn’t shy of a fight. Meanwhile Eva giggled at the pair of them, in between conjuring her own slender flames that hovered above in the murk of the vaulted ceiling like the tentacles of jellyfish suspended in the deep.

A lot of arete seemed eager to practise conjuring their element. They did so with increased regularity and effort as they neared the Order members. The young arete were eager to impress. But the raven-haired woman, despite her simper, wasn’t interested in any of them.

Judging by Anna’s preoccupied look, like El, she was struggling to keep it together. Despite El’s mounting terror, her eyes kept coming back to land on the air manipulator. Each arete presented their hand to her, Anna or the man. A knife was used to pierce their forefinger and a few drops of blood were squeezed into a vial. The raven-haired woman smiled at the arete who stood before her. El interpreted her look: one of anticipation. El felt as if she was part of a sacrificial procession – a victim nearing the altar.

Luke had gone to the front of the line and was now talking to the man. El discerned the older man’s height, his athletic build. She traced a commonality in his chiselled features to Luke’s. This was his father.

‘Just wait…’ Luke’s father said. As his voice trailed off so did the last of El’s hope.

Luke returned looking perturbed.

El listened to a couple of girls talking in hushed voices ahead of them.

‘That’s not true. You can’t even see it,’ said one.

‘It is. My friend met a guy who knew someone who tried it – he got in, but when he got out … he was mad.’

Luke noticed El’s confusion at the conversation.

‘There’s so many kerykeion on the London Olympia,’ he said, ‘hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions. The veiling only settles when your individual blood is mixed into the place. Without having your blood incorporated into a kerykeion there, even an arete can’t see it. It’s become an urban legend. It’s said that some have managed to get into an Olympia without being drawn into the veiling, but because of all the kerykeion, their surroundings never settle. Some claim that arete who have gone in, unable to navigate, never come out. And those who do – go mad.’

El remembered what Alex had said about having to incorporate a human’s blood into the veiling at Endon, to allow them to see the arete section. It sounded similar.

Luke watched the front of the line. Worry marred his face. Did he still think he’d be able to explain things? She fiddled with her plait. He didn’t know about her mother’s presence. He didn’t know that one of the rebels he was about to speak about was right here.

El felt as though she could be in the Olympia now. People’s chatter seemed to spike and then recede as a cold sense of foreboding stole through her. Things were in sharp focus and then slipped away. She tried to keep calm. If the raven-haired woman looked at her, she might take advantage of her distress and quickly cause her panic to spiral. The only blessing was that this time no humans were present.

Her mind kept cycling back to last night – to the facts she knew – trying to make sense of everything that had happened. This raven-haired woman had been at Cobbold House and forced her to use her power. She had orchestrated last night to get her to London. Consequently El had been plunged into this world. But why? What did this woman want with her? Had she got her to use her power last night so that the Order could decide if they wanted her? It didn’t make sense. The air manipulator had been at Cobbold House last night but had just let El leave. She wished that she could ask Anna but knew that singling her mother out would only put her in harm’s way.

Their group was the only one left to give blood. Josh, Eva and Will were donating ahead of them.

El swallowed the lump in her throat and fixed her eyes on Luke. ‘Don’t say anything. Just let me go to the blonde.’

She clutched at the faint possibility that Anna might be able to pretend to take her blood. The way Luke’s father had dismissed him convinced her that they weren’t going to get help from him.

Luke frowned but nodded.

Her anxiety mounted. Could Anna pretend to take it? If she had to take her blood, would she help her? She wished that she’d stayed put earlier, stayed at the lab. Alex had tried to help her understand – he’d given her those books. She longed to be curled up with a book in the canopied area of the safe house, a hot cup of Tia’s tea beside her.

She walked towards Anna, but the raven-haired woman, who was just finishing up with Eva, grabbed her hand. This couldn’t be happening: it was a dream, a nightmare. Her mind reeled. The danger was clearly written in the horizontal slash of the woman’s lips. Her hand felt cold and bony as she grasped hers. Both their eyes were fixed on the knife as it penetrated the tip of El’s forefinger. The woman squeezed and they watched the droplets of blood slide down the glass vial. Upon contact, it reacted with the contents, the shallow pool of blood turned from a dark red to black.

The woman gripped El’s hand harder, her nails digging into her flesh. ‘A rebel – her blood is poison. She could undo a kerykeion with a single drop.’

El shook her head pitifully, trying to back away, but the woman’s hand crushed hers.

‘Did you think we were blind?’ An ugly smile etched itself across the woman’s face as she emphasised the last word.

El thought of her grandma and dread beat through her. This woman knew about her. Her blood ran cold. Was her grandma okay? She fought the urge to look at Anna, wondering if she’d intervene.

‘That’s what we tried to tell you,’ Luke said. His gaze swung from the woman to his father. ‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Dad. El came to the Order for help. El, tell them.’

Her face contorted with pain as the woman squeezed her hand harder. El shook her head, her eyes wide, latching onto Luke’s, begging him to stop talking.

‘I gave her the blood, Louisa,’ Anna interjected.

El’s skin crawled.

The woman’s smile fell away. ‘We know, Anna.’ She nodded and Luke’s father took hold of Anna’s arm and marched her away.

El wanted to scream at them or run after her mother. Where was he taking her? She couldn’t move though as the woman still crushed her hand. Luke was the only other arete left in the room – Josh and the others had already gone.

Luke’s father came back in.

Luke rounded on him, ‘El didn’t know about rebels or the Order.’

El’s heart raced with fear, but she didn’t speak. She didn’t understand it all yet, but she knew this woman was evil. El knew that she’d forced her to use her power, that she’d set her up so that both she and Anna got caught. Despite Luke’s pleading look, El was silent.

He lunged towards El and almost succeeded in breaking the woman’s grip on her, but his father wrenched him back and restrained him.

‘Enough, Luke,’ his father said. ‘You agreed to report on rebel activity at the lab. You’ve found it, but instead of making me proud, and taking up your reward in a match, you shame me.’

Guilt shone in Luke’s eyes when they landed on El. Cold shock rushed over her: he’d been placed at the lab to watch Alex. He’d wanted to ferret out information on the rebels, on Anna. Instead, he’d found her, and that had successfully led to Anna.

‘Not a bad day’s work,’ Louisa said, her glinting eyes on Luke. ‘Two rebels for the price of one.’

Luke tried to move towards them again but his father was stronger.

‘I suggest you get your boy home,’ Louisa said, ‘or let him cool off in a cell.’

The room was spinning. At first El thought it was the shock that Luke had been spying at the lab. She remembered how he’d only let her go when she’d mentioned Alex’s name. He had followed her and Dan in the hope of getting information.

But, as her eyes withdrew from Luke, she saw that Louisa was staring at her. Clutching at her throat, she realised she couldn’t breathe. The woman had cut off the air from around her. El tried to move, but there was a force pushing against her, holding her in position.

‘El! El!’ Luke’s voice sounded as though through a fog.

‘Get him out,’ Louisa said. Her voice was even fainter.

The stone floor seemed to rise up to meet El. She was on her knees. The sound of Louisa’s boots pounded through her head. At first El was sure they were coming closer and then they grew muffled. Everything faded. A roaring pain burned through her chest and blackness engulfed her.

- Chapter Eleven -

Both Hidden and Clear

The pain in El’s chest woke her. The tenderness she felt was similar to the time she’d fallen from her horse, Rika, and cracked a rib. When she opened her eyes she half expected to find herself at the manor, the evening’s shadows settling on the eggshell walls and sheets of her bedroom. Her eyelids fluttered open to darkness.

She took in the pitch-black room and, remembering the vaulted underground area, everything came flooding back. Her keen sense of smell picked up the musty, dank odour of dirt and mould in the old brickwork around her. The cold floor seemed to press into her bones. It was a space devoid of comfort: a prison.

Everything was still. She tried to hear outside but realised that, just like the lead door, the walls were lead lined and the material was too dense for any sound to penetrate. She was almost relieved, not wanting to sense the air manipulator again. El stroked her throat. It felt raw and painful. She relived the sense of choking and her eyes watered. She shuffled away from the door, backing up into the corner furthest from it.

She wondered how long she’d been unconscious, whether it was minutes or hours. The loss of time made her feel more scared. She hugged her knees to her chest, trying to ward off the sense that the darkness had stolen hours or even days. She wondered where her mother was. Luke’s father had taken her, but where? Was she in a cell nearby? The tumult of worries consumed her. She remembered her mother’s admission: I gave her the blood. Only one thing seemed to make sense. Anna was an Order member but had been working for the rebels in secret. El had blown her cover.

Pain swept through her, but she remembered she wasn’t the only one to blame. Luke had been at the lab to watch Alex or at least watch for rebel activity. And he’d found it. Her. She didn’t know if any of his words had been genuine or if all his interest in her had been a guise. He’d seemed sincere in wanting to get his father’s help and had even tried to intercede between El and the air manipulator. However, he’d lied when they first met. He’d clearly come after her to find out about the rebels. Ultimately, she’d put her trust in him and she’d been wrong.

Hot tears welled up as the thought cut her. Had any of his words been real – that stuff about his mother? She doubted it and felt a stab of anger at her own naivety. She recalled his father’s words about Luke’s reward for reporting on rebel activity: a place in the elemental matches. She remembered how animated Luke had been on the topic of competing in the Olympia. All she’d been was his ticket to an elemental match. And all it had taken to fool her was for him to show a little affection.

Her reflections were shattered as the metal bolt was drawn back. Her breath caught in her throat, fear threading through her as a dull, metal thud sounded on the floor. Louisa, the raven-haired woman, in the same tunic and boots, strode into the cell. She held a flickering torch and slotted it into the iron holder by the door. The aroma reminded El of log fires at home. The manor house was tinged with it year round. Necessary, whatever the season, to protect the old house from damp. It made her ache, and then filled her with fear at the thought of everything that might be lost.

The clang of the heavy metal rang through the cell when the door fell shut. The woman strode into the centre of the room.

‘It’s nice to meet you properly, El.’

The polite tone and turn of phrase sounded ludicrous in the barren room but, although El felt like smirking, she wasn’t about to forget this woman’s viciousness.

‘I…’ El’s voice was strained. ‘I remember you from Cobbold House.’

The woman’s smile stretched across her thin face. ‘I’m pleased that I made an impression. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself then but you seemed awfully busy.

El felt a surge of sickness at the way she made light of what had happened.

‘I’m Louisa Carras,’ she said. Her conversational tone was a deceit. El knew it was the calm before the storm. ‘I could tell that you liked my present.’

El frowned, wondering what she was talking about. She felt sick; was Louisa suggesting it was funny that she’d fallen for Luke’s charms?

‘The screen I sent you,’ she said. ‘It seemed to interest you.’

El thought back to the walnut screen, an anonymous donation. Every so often donations like it came into the house, but when she’d seen the artefact for the first time, it had surprised her. She remembered thinking that it was a strange coincidence that the panels were on such a pertinent theme to her. She had wondered about it but dismissed it.

The whole of last weekend she’d pored over those emblems, her manager happy to have her translate them when she’d expressed an interest. One side of the screen had messages concerning the theme of vigilance, on the other side, the theme of concealment.

Images of the emblems flashed through her mind. A man standing before a blank mirror, bearing the caption, “Quis es?” Who are you? Another bore a skull with a lily growing through one of its eye sockets, the motto, “Tam occulta, et manifesta.” Both hidden and clear. She remembered the picture of the sun in eclipse, “Nec moror videri.” Nor do I care to be seen. The old, worn images seemed to grow more vivid in her mind’s eye as though they were materialising before her. This woman, Louisa, had known about her at least a week ago. Probably before. She’d known about El for as long as it had taken her to plan and arrange for the screen to be delivered and find its way into her hands. Louisa had not only been there but had been teasing her; sending her this item had been like throwing her clues in a game.

The red bricked façade of Cobbold House loomed clearly in El’s mind as she remembered working in the collection room. On the morning she’d spent there, the day had started off clear and sunny. Over the course of the day the weather had turned. She remembered being startled a few times as she worked at the force of the wind rattling the shutters: a gale that seemed to come from nowhere. Only now did she realise that it had been this woman conjuring the storm. Louisa had been there, signalling to her, wishing for her to take notice: wanting to be seen. The realisation that she’d been watching her all this time made her skin crawl.

El remembered too, after her loss of control during the talk, how she’d struggled to regain control of herself. No doubt due to Louisa still watching her. It had only been when the elderly couple steered her away from everyone and into an empty room that she’d finally regained control of her breathing.

‘You,’ El whispered. ‘You’ve been watching me for weeks.’

Another thought struck her. Ingrid had been there that night. Louisa could have seen her with El. Was her friend in danger? What about her grandma? She’d had no word from her since being here. Anna had seemed to think contact with Helena was dangerous, but had Louisa already been to the manor?

Louisa smiled wickedly in agreement.

‘My grandma?’ El said. ‘Please…’

Louisa’s grin was grotesque and El’s eyes teared up.

‘No crying,’ Louisa said. ‘Your dear grandma is fine. I want her to be around for all that’s left to come.’

El wiped her eyes, a surge of relief spreading through her despite Louisa’s sinister tone. Her grandma was safe, for now. She knew she should be worried about her own skin, about what this woman wanted from her, but she needed to know about Anna.

‘And my mother?’ El asked.

‘She will witness your punishment when the Triad get here. Then, she will be punished for conspiring against the Order. And finally, your grandma.’

A shiver ran down El’s spine at Louisa’s venomous tone. There was a deep grudge rooted in her, for all of them. She thought back to her grandma running away from the Order, cutting her power out to escape. Were they all being punished for that? Had the Order finally caught up with them?

‘But how?’ El asked. ‘How did you find my grandma?’

Louisa tilted her head thoughtfully.

‘I suppose it’s alright to tell you a short story. I never got to tell you any when you were young.’ She began to pace.

‘Once there was a powerful hydra called Helena. She was the most powerful arete in the Order and was the favourite of the Triad. She served for fourteen years and killed hundreds of arete at the behest of the Order. But one day she decided that she was too good for such a life so cut out her eyes and ran away.

‘For many years she remained hidden. But, when she started to age, the cells in her body mutated in such a way that a little of her power was repaired – she was once more visible to the All-Seeing Eye.

‘Her sister, Louisa, a faithful servant of the Order and powerful typhon, was instructed by the Triad to kill her. Yet Louisa believed she deserved not just to die for the power and honour she’d thrown away, but to suffer. Louisa made the littlest serpent use her power. Predictably, mother gorgon came to save her baby but, in doing so, tarnished her with rebel blood and revealed her own treachery too.’ The lightness in her tone ebbed. ‘And so, before I kill Helena, she will witness the granddaughter and daughter that she tried so desperately to shield from the Order die too.’

El shook her head. This was a lie. Her grandma had never been an Order member. She wasn’t capable of killing anyone, nevermind hundreds of arete. The woman who had brought her up to respect all life, to be careful never to bring harm to the humans they shared their lives with … no, she wouldn’t believe this.

But, Louisa was right about her grandma’s aging. It must have been over the last month alone that her wrinkles had deepened and her dark hair become peppered with grey. Louisa had the same shade of hair as her grandma, the same olive complexion. Sisters? Could it be true?

El traced Louisa’s face. There was a similarity around the long chin and high cheekbones, but this woman looked closer to Anna’s age than Helena’s. She shook her head again. No, she wouldn’t believe it. This wasn’t her grandma’s sister. Anger shot through her and she clenched her fists. She wouldn’t let this woman get inside her head. She glowered at her.

‘Don’t worry, little serpent,’ Louisa said, ‘you won’t have to bear the truth for long. When the Triad get here, you and the rest of my sister’s line will find peace.’

Louisa took in El’s pale face before she picked up the torch and exited the room. The clang of metal reverberated in El’s skull as the bolt scraped the brickwork. The silence left in its wake was worse. In the stillness, doubts and terrors seemed to breed in the gloom. They tormented her with thoughts of never seeing her grandma and mother again, and that this place was to be her tomb.

- Chapter Twelve -

The All-Seeing Eye

El didn’t have to wait long before she heard footfalls. The even sound of the click on stone made her think of the metronome her grandma sometimes used while playing the piano. She felt a swell and rise of emotion as if responding to a powerful piece. No melody was necessary though; the monotonous step was menacing enough.

As the door opened, Louisa barked, ‘Come.’

El stood up, still hugging herself. Her limbs felt stiff and cold from sitting in one place for too long. Louisa motioned for her to go in front, and she walked through the gaping door. Soon she was walking along the cavernous tunnel, the snap of each heel behind setting the pace of their march. Her heart raced faster with each step as though challenging the imposed rhythm.

They came to a stop in the vaulted room where the meeting had been. It still had the three wells of elements. The crackling fire cast a glow over the walls, as well as a figure who stood in the centre. El’s gaze flitted to two others who sat on the main platform further back, ensconced in the shadows.

The central figure turned to her. Even in the light of the flames it was difficult to see his features. His whole form was hazy, like he was standing in a thick fog or as if she were looking at him through murky water. She thought it was a man’s form: broad and tall, black-haired, clothed in dark colours, but it was hard to tell for sure.

‘We occupy the past and future as much as the present,’ he said. ‘As you can see, it is rare for our bodies to be wholly in one place.’

As he spoke his form quivered, his voice rippled through his body like a pebble over the surface of a pond. El’s skin crawled. She cast her eyes to the figures approaching on the man’s right: the other graeae. The Triad. She remembered her mother’s words: The most powerful graeae lead the Order.

These two were more distinct – two women in dark dresses, one to the floor, the other knee length. Their hands and faces were stark against the dusky material of their clothes. The man’s features grew more defined and his pale eyes turned to the same grey as his companions. All three had such similar colouring and features that they could have been siblings.

It was unnerving to see the results of their gift in the way it affected their bodies. It was as if their fibres were spooling into the past and future. Even as she understood their strange appearance, El felt sickened by it. It looked like time was devouring them.

She felt lightheaded. A chill ran down her spine as she realised the sensation was caused by their hollow stare. The male graeae came towards her, his palm raised. El shrank away, but Louisa gripped her roughly, yanking her arm and held out El’s hand to face his. He pressed his cool palm against hers. She watched the colour drain from his eyes and his form distort. Her worried gaze met Louisa’s and she found their hazel hue, despite their sharpness, comforting.

The graeae’s hand fell away and Louisa let go of her arm.

One of the female graeae spoke. ‘So?’ Her tone was muffled like it was coming from far away.

‘I see nothing of import,’ the male said. ‘But our blood is still masking her power.’

El frowned. Their blood? She thought of the serum. It was graeae blood that had shielded her power.

‘We should attempt to see her power,’ the male graeae said, ‘before she is executed.’

El’s heart sped up. Was it certain that she was going to die? Was there no trial?

‘Please,’ El said. ‘I didn’t know–’

‘Silence,’ the other, female graeae snapped. Her voice was sure. Her form strengthened; her hair was umber in the soft firelight. ‘You concealed your power from the Order with graeae blood. All power belongs to the Order. This treachery warrants death–’

‘Exsanguination,’ the male graeae said. ‘Once enough of our blood leaves her system, we can observe her power.’

El felt her knees tremble but wasn’t in control of her body any more. She was carried into the air as though invisible hands clasped her. She yelled, but Louisa’s stare held her and brought her down on the main platform at the far side of the room. She tried to move her body but was held in a vice-like grip, the air pressure pushing her down onto the stone stage. Her eyes darted around, examining the vast slab she was laid on. The edges of the podium were an arm’s length away. She remembered spying the ditches around the stage, deep enough for contestants to hide from enemy fire. She couldn’t see down into the channels but pictured the trenches below.

‘No, no, please,’ she murmured, realising that as well as her eyes, she was still able to move her lips.

Louisa came closer to her, a cruel smile on her face. The bright flames from the fire pit reflected the metal knife she held.

El’s gaze flew from the typhon down to the fine cracks in the stone as she imagined her blood flowing through the fissures.

Louisa watched her dispassionately as though she was already a corpse on a morgue table.

‘A deep vertical incision in the wrists will suffice,’ the male graeae said.

El tried to move, but all she could do was cry as she felt the bite of metal slice into her wrist. She screamed again at the next incision, her eyes darting down to watch her blood. Its warm trickle spilled over her hands. This was really happening. But surely someone would come? Tears bathed her face. Who else but her mother knew that she was here? Maybe the Opposition would be alerted by Anna’s disappearance, but who knew how long it would take before they were aware of her absence. She tried to slow her heart rate; its desperate beat dilated her blood vessels. Its fight was betraying her, pushing the blood at a faster rate out of her body.

She felt cold and, as the minutes drew on, wondered whether her hands were numb because of the loss of blood or whether they had been that way from the start. She had been cold when she was laid on the surface but was sure she was growing chillier. Her gaze flicked down to look at the sheen of blood on the surface, forming tributaries that found their way through the minute grooves to the edge of the platform. She pictured her blood pooling below like slurry running through a trough. Each time she caught sight of the fluid, a fresh wave of panic coursed through her.

She was going to die. How much time did she have? How long before she lost too much blood? She pictured the guest from Cobbold House, the young man with the glaze of blood staining the floor. He had survived. He was recovering. As her thoughts began to swirl, she kept seeing the man lying on the floor, the stain spreading around his head like a dark halo. When her eyes drifted to the fluid that was growing around her, it was as though she was lying in a pool of his blood. Perhaps, making up for what she’d done. Each drop was reparation for him. Blood for blood. An eye for an eye.

Numbness crept into her hands, her arms felt heavy like she was exhausted. She couldn’t tell if Louisa was even holding her down now or if she didn’t need to. Her mind felt slow and fuzzy. Her feet were icy. The scent of the burning torches caught in her nostrils and she was at home again, lying on the sofa in the library. The log fire painted her in its warmth whilst she read. Its light stained the page before her and danced across her skin. The warmth was wonderful. It made her think of Dan’s eyes. Amber flecks like embers in the hearth. She hadn’t noticed that the fire was dying down, but there was barely enough light to read the words on the page. The logs were blackened in the grate, only cinders buried beneath. Dan’s warm eyes stroked her cheek, her lips, and lingered like a kiss on her forehead.

‘Come here,’ said the male graeae.

El thought he was talking to her. She realised the warmth on her forehead was his hand – the touch of his fingers. She’d closed her eyes. She willed herself to open them but her eyelids were too heavy. She felt far away like she was falling into water, deeper and deeper. Softer skin touched her head.

‘Did you see it?’ he asked. ‘Well I did, Katia. She has it.’ His voice shook. ‘The vial, quickly.’

She heard the grind of metal nearby.

‘What?’ Louisa said. ‘She’s a traitor.’

El felt an arm prop her up and almost choked as a thick, metallic liquid entered her mouth. Its initial bitterness seemed to melt away and it slipped down her throat like syrup. She felt the coldness ebbing and the leaden weight that had settled in her lighten. She was rising.

‘No, all of it,’ the male graeae said.

El felt her mouth fill with more of the thick liquid and swallowed it. She coughed, but the liquid’s flow didn’t cease and she drank it down. Finally she was laid down again.

Her eyes snapped open and she realised she could move. With trepidation, she lifted her right arm and drew her hand up, examining her wrist. She’d felt and seen the deep incision, but there was nothing there. Her eyes ran over the blue tracery of veins in her wrist, knowing that they had been severed, that she’d lost so much blood. But now, there wasn’t even a scratch. Her other wrist was the same, not even a scar.

She still felt lightheaded but tentatively sat up. In the centre of the room the Triad were talking in hushed tones. El’s eyes skirted Louisa, who stood apart, her face creased as she listened.

‘Bring Anna,’ the umber-haired graeae said.

The blood pounded in El’s temples and she lay down again, trying to hold onto consciousness.

- Chapter Thirteen -

An Eye and a Tooth

El tried to focus on Louisa’s movements and to listen out for Anna’s voice, but straining her senses brought her close to blacking out. Whilst lying still and attempting to clear her head, the umber-haired graeae came over and took hold of her hand. At first El thought that she was checking her pulse. However, this graeae had just tried to kill her, along with her freaky brother and sister; it was unlikely that she was checking her vitals. El shuddered when the colour drained from the arete’s eyes, becoming milky as though cataracts were forming across them. She wondered what the graeae was seeing.

The woman didn’t seem to regard her at all and, losing interest, walked away. El tried to prepare herself for what might be about to happen. Was it possible that the other rebels would realise Anna had been captured? Would Dan or anyone else come? Perhaps there was still a way out of this; she should conserve her energy for the fight ahead. She imagined Dan striding through the door, his gaze dark and powerful, ready to char Louisa to a crisp. Anna had power too. El imagined her sending a primeval flood through the room. She on the other hand, was useless – defenceless and helpless – not just because of the blood loss.

El wished that she could conjure her element. She remembered the beautiful, curvy girl, Eva, who could summon lashings of flame; the delicate girl and the simple petals of fire that she’d formed. El wouldn’t be able to so much as singe the eyebrows off the Triad.

What they had said as she’d been hovering on the edge of consciousness played through her mind. She has it. What had they seen? El ran her hands up and down her arms as if cold, checking her wrists and wondering what they’d given her to close her wounds. She felt that she must have imagined them healing and kept expecting her fingers to come away sticky and wet.

She caught the sound of footsteps and bolted upright. The blood pounded in her temples. She knew she was free to jump up but stopped as Anna came into the room. Her mother was blindfolded and her hands bound in front of her. They were taking precautions against her power. Anna must have sensed her. Beneath the blindfold, her face was leached of colour.

Despite her dizziness, El lurched off the slab, stumbling the few metres across the room to her.

‘El,’ Anna said. El clung to her. Despite her bound arms, Anna hugged her close, draping them over her head.

There was so much El wanted to say – that she was sorry for running away, sorry for not listening and most of all, sorry for blowing her cover.

‘Are you okay, Mum?’ El asked.

She felt warmed by Anna’s smile but hardened her expression – she couldn’t afford to come apart just now. She had to get them out of here and the mess that she’d landed them in.

‘How touching,’ Louisa said from the other side of the room. ‘Shall we get the whole family together?’ She retrieved a tablet from the platform and everyone listened to the tinny ring tone coming from the gadget.

‘Put Helena on,’ Louisa said to whoever answered the call. She held the screen out to face them so that they could all, barring Anna, see the display.

El made out the low-lit interior of a car and, in the gloom, her grandma’s taut face and dark lenses. The light caught the silvery streaks in her hair and the white blouse she wore was luminous.

‘Grandma,’ El said.

Helena winced.

‘You can’t see, sister,’ Louisa said, ‘but I’m sure you heard that we have your granddaughter here. Your daughter too.’

Helena’s face paled. Her bronze complexion seemed rubbery and coarse. Her grandma clearly recognised Louisa’s voice and El was haunted by what she’d been told in the cell.

‘Despite the crimes she has committed against the Order, Helena,’ said the male graeae, ‘your granddaughter has been pardoned. We have foreseen that she will be blessed, as you were, in possessing the full power.’

El stared at her grandma on the screen, watching the shock sweep across her face, mirroring her own.

‘We have foreseen that El will wield it in the final arena of the London Olympia,’ the male graeae said. He observed El’s confusion. ‘The ability to kill with a single look.’

She stared at the man, whose appearance now looked entirely normal: an ordinary man, who she would have guessed to be about thirty. Perhaps it wasn’t so simple though. She should stop trying to guess an arete’s age, especially a graeae. She couldn’t take anything for granted.

El shook her head, but as she tried to deny his words the stories about Perseus that her grandma had told her, flooded her mind. Stories that had been closer to home than her grandma had ever admitted. She shuddered. This wasn’t true. She didn’t care what Louisa or the Triad said. She didn’t have that power and neither had her grandma.

‘I’m sorry I never told you,’ Helena said. ‘It’s true, and if Janos has foreseen it, then you have it too.’ Her face softened. ‘Understand, I didn’t want this life for you … that’s why I hid–’

‘Power belongs to the Order,’ said one of the female graeae, her voice ethereal. ‘Such concealment is traitorous–’

‘Julia,’ Janos said, holding up his hand for silence. ‘You know Helena’s life has already been awarded to Louisa.’

His voice was languid as though he was talking about a trivial matter. El now realised this was why Louisa had called Helena. She was going to make El watch her grandma’s execution. El drew herself up. She forced the words out, knowing she was the only one with any bargaining power.

‘No,’ El said. ‘If you hurt either of them I’ll never do anything for you. I won’t go to the Olympia. I’ll never use the full power.’

Louisa laughed. ‘You’ve infected this one with your stubbornness too, Helena.’

El wished there was something she could do. Supposedly she had the full power. How she’d like to watch Louisa, with her already steely look, harden beneath her gaze. She tried to imagine her turning to stone, her bronzed skin and hair fading to grey and crumbling. She pictured the Triad evaporating into dust too.

‘We do not take kindly to threats,’ they said, the Triad’s voices eerily in unison.

El blinked. They were growing hazy again. She wondered what she could do. Why were they moving outside the present? The Triad’s forms were so blurred that they looked like one entity: a three-headed monster that shivered and shook.

‘It’s time,’ they said. ‘Now, Louisa.’

‘Here’s your first lesson,’ Louisa hissed. ‘Serve or die.’

The scream of surprise was torn from El as she was hurled back by an invisible force. Her head erupted with pain as it impacted with the wall behind. It wasn’t that that twisted her stomach though but the sickening crunch like the snap of a tree’s bough in a silent forest.

El slipped down the wall to the floor but shot up to a sitting position. Her lip quivered, her hands shook and her senses flew back to where she’d just stood.

‘Anna! Anna!’ Helena shouted.

Her grandma didn’t need to see to understand what had happened. Despite staring into a never-ending void, she knew: she’d heard the crunching of bone and the tear of muscle. Anna lay in front of Louisa and the Triad, her head and neck at an impossible angle to the rest of her body. The blindfold had slipped down to her neck; her eyes, although uncovered, were dull and empty. No cold rose to mark El’s cheek.

Hot tears ran down El’s face as her heart thrummed. She lurched back, scuttling on her hands and feet, but her eyes couldn’t detach themselves from her mum. Both female graeae strode towards El, their forms and features stabilising. They pulled her up.

Louisa stood over Anna, wearing a self-satisfied smirk. El wished she could rip it from her face. She narrowed her eyes at Janos; she hated him. She hated all of them.

‘Let this serve as a lesson in the virtue of obedience,’ Janos said. ‘Tonight you’ll be transported to the London Olympia. We expect to see nothing but compliance in your training and in combat within the arenas. Disappoint us, and we will be forced to make our point again.’

Janos looked from El to the screen that Louisa still held in her hands. They had her grandma. El didn’t know where they were taking her but they had her. She blinked back the tears as she stared at Helena’s pale face.

El nodded. She would do whatever they wanted. The two female graeae steered her away. She fought to stay with her mum’s body; lifeless as it was, she wouldn’t leave her. She struggled against their grip, but their bodies were powerful and solid, despite how insubstantial they had been a moment ago. They dragged El out into the corridor.

‘No!’ El screamed. ‘No, Mum … Mum!’

Although El dragged her feet, she was soon hauled out onto the steps of the catacombs. The two women heaved her out and even more powerful arms gripped her. El looked up and saw a line of besuited men – many different types of arete – their gazes producing cold and heat, others weighing her down and quickening her breath all at once. Order members: here to serve and protect the Triad.

‘Take her to the car. Escort her to the Olympia,’ the umber-haired graeae, Julia said, pointing at the men nearest El. ‘The rest of you stay. We’re almost ready.’

El stumbled along between two thickset arete guards. Her strength was failing. It was just as well they had such a strong hold on her or she’d likely be on the ground. She didn’t know if it was the loss of blood or shock setting in but her limbs seemed to be seizing up. She blinked in surprise as the iron serpents, coiling around the burning gas lamps appeared again. She looked at them as if recalling them from long ago, like she’d seen them in a dream, one only half-remembered.

She saw a couple of passers-by look her way, their eyes suspicious, but they soon skirted around her and the group of men as though they hadn’t registered their presence. El found herself hoping that the car wasn’t far. Her head was pounding again and her stomach somersaulting. She thought she might throw up.

They were approaching a limo, parked a few metres away. El looked across the street. A young woman stood on the opposite side of the road, tucking her hair behind her ear as she looked down at her phone. The woman’s green eyes swept up, and found El.

El’s face drained of colour. It couldn’t be. Ingrid? What was she doing here? El’s throat went dry and her senses sharpened. Ingrid’s eyebrows shot up, confusion flitting across her face. No, no, El begged. Don’t come over.

‘El? El!’ Ingrid shouted from across the road. The two arete at the front stopped, bringing the two who were gripping her to a halt.

One of the arete shrugged. ‘Andreko.’

Their pace quickened as they closed the gap to the car. One of them opened a rear door.

Something rent the air behind them. The piercing sound made El, as well as the men restraining her, duck instinctively. Crouching, they all looked back. The glass of one of the lamps had shattered. The man nearest the car stood up and looked around. The flame in the lamp blazed into a fiery ball and shot towards him. He ducked and rolled out of the way, but the fire leapt across the leather seats of the car within. El backed away from the furious heat, but an arete guard caught hold of her and hauled her up. The guards were both restraining her and shielding her as they edged back the way they’d come.

One of the men drew a water bottle from his jacket, unscrewed the lid and looked towards the car. A fall of water issued from the plastic container as if it was a hose and soon doused the fire.

‘Fall back,’ another guard said.

They edged their way back along the street in the direction of the catacombs. El’s gaze flew to the other side of the street, wondering what had happened to her friend. Her heart pounded, worried that the fire had reached her. As her eyes landed on the young woman crouched behind a car, El frowned. Ingrid was motionless. Was she in shock? But El spied another movement beside her friend, behind the parked car. She fleetingly caught sight of dark hair and broad features. Dan was here too.

She clenched her jaw. She had to get away from these arete. Dan wouldn’t be able to target them with her among them. She drew her elbow forward and directed it into the gut of the man behind her. As another arete made to grab her, she kicked him in the leg and bolted away from the group.

‘The Triad’s inside,’ a man shouted from close by.

A colossal explosion erupted behind her. El dropped to the floor and looked back from where she was balled up. A huge cloud of billowing smoke enveloped the street. She got to her feet and covered her mouth, her eyes stinging as she tried to see through the haze. A figure in black reared up before her and a sharp pain shot through her leg. She went down hard, her head thudding against the pavement. The taste of smoke was heavy in her mouth and, with a last surge of pain in her leg, the fog closed in around her, thickening and blotting out everything.

- Chapter Fourteen -

Untethered

Through fluttering eyelids, El’s vision adjusted to the dim light. Steel cupboards gleamed and the sheen of black marble countertops met her. The synthetic smell of disinfectant permeated the space. As she opened her eyes she tried to pretend it was morning and that she was home, but the self-deception failed when consciousness fully returned. The aching in her limbs and the pain in her leg thrust itself upon her, pressing into her an awareness of the hospital bed in which she lay. A heart monitor’s bleep intruded. She was in Alex’s lab.

Pain, rawer than physical, flashed through her. She looked to her right. Dan was in a chair next to her, his dark eyes brushed her face.

‘She’s awake,’ he called.

El lifted her head from the pillow. Alex rushed in from one of the adjacent rooms. He was dishevelled: his shirt creased and unbuttoned at the neck, hair tussled and face strained. His eyes were wild, desperate. For a second, El thought his worry was for her, but she saw the question in his look. He had been waiting to hear from her what his heart already knew.

‘She’s…’ El choked.

Alex’s expression crumpled. His breath was ragged as he struggled to control his emotion.

Tears pooled in El’s eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’

Alex nodded, his chest heaving. He went to the lift and disappeared.

El collapsed back, the tears rolling down her cheeks silently. She thought Dan was leaving too but his footsteps moved into the next room. Sobs racked her body. She heard the familiar clinking of mugs and tried to get a grip, slowly breathing in and out. In and out.

The aroma of black tea hit her. She sat up. Through the glass wall she could see Dan in the partitioned kitchen. He had his back to her, busying himself at the countertop at the far side of the room. But, he wasn’t alone. Ingrid was sat at the table.

When Dan came back into the room with mugs, his eyes followed El’s gaze.

‘Damn,’ he said. ‘I forgot – here.’ He set the mugs on the counter. ‘I’ll handle it.’

El frowned. The beeping of the monitor quickened. ‘What’s she doing here?’

‘It wasn’t exactly safe to leave her where she was.’

El wrenched off the armband and electrodes attached to her. She threw the covers from her. ‘Don’t. Wait.’

She stumbled from the bed but as she put weight on her right leg, hot pain erupted through her calf muscles and into her thigh. She would have been on the floor if Dan hadn’t caught her. She flushed as she realised she was wearing a hospital gown, its back open. There was an IV drip still attached to her arm; on wheels, it moved with her. Dan manoeuvred around it as he lifted her and set her back on the bed.

‘I’ll bring her through,’ he said, a scowl on his face. ‘You’ve lost a lot of blood, don’t move.’

El frowned. ‘How did you know?’

Dan cast his eyes to the ground. ‘Your leg. You got stabbed.’

She remembered the sting she’d felt in her leg before passing out. Her leg was bandaged and she looked at the tube trailing from the IV to her arm. Alex must have stitched her up. The drip must contain pain medication.

When Ingrid walked through, she took a seat in the chair by the bedside and stared into space.

‘What did you do?’ El said, upset by the emptiness that she’d never wanted to see on her friend’s face.

‘I told her to come here with us,’ Dan said. ‘Then not to ask questions. I told her to wait.’ His tone was growing steadily more sullen. ‘Make it quick.’ He withdrew to the kitchen.

Ingrid’s curvy figure was apparent beneath her jumper and straight-cut chinos. Her chestnut hair hung in a glossy curtain. She was always polished. El thought that her mum would like her friend’s style. Would have liked it. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

As El stared at her friend’s blank look, she was tongue tied. What could she say to her? How could she explain tonight’s events? She breathed deeply. This was something she’d wanted to talk to her about for so long.

‘Ingrid?’ she said, calling her eyes to her. ‘Can you think about what you saw tonight? Do you remember why you came to find me?’

Ingrid’s lips were pressed tightly together. Her eyes widened.

‘El! I was so worried.’ She clasped El’s hand. ‘You’re hurt.’

El patted her hand. ‘I’m fine, but I still don’t get why you came to look for me. How did you find me?’

Ingrid rolled her eyes, instantly seeming more like herself.

‘You don’t call, and you send one text that doesn’t even sound like you, and you expect me not to worry! I thought your grandma had killed you or something.’ She smiled dryly.

El grimaced as she thought of her grandma. Her friend’s words recalling the fact that the Order had her. She thought too about how her grandma was a murderer – an ex-Order member.

‘Your house,’ Ingrid said. Her face tensed. ‘Everything was broken.’

El pictured the manor house, the giant door ajar, the urns and furniture smashed, imagining how the Order must have left it when collecting her grandma.

Ingrid started to play with her fingernails, tracing the shape of her long nails.

‘But how did you find me?’ El asked.

‘It was easy. I still had all your codes from when I set up your mobile. I just used Find My Phone.’ Ingrid’s uncertainty flitted away again, her voice sure.

‘Ingrid,’ El prompted slowly, ‘what else do you remember from when you found me?’

Ingrid’s eyes narrowed. El could see her concentration, the mixture of confusion and mirth playing across her face as she tried to think back. She knew that Ingrid must have seen the battle, from the other side of the street she couldn’t have missed it.

‘Those men you were with,’ Ingrid whispered, ‘they were throwing fire and water.’ She laughed like it was a joke but shock marred her features again. ‘I saw a car … fly. Then it exploded.’

El grimaced. Okay it was worse than she’d thought.

Ingrid’s eyes were leaping around the room. ‘I don’t remember how I got here…’ There was a tremor in her voice.

Ingrid’s tone sounded so unlike her that it forced El to talk. ‘It’s okay. They’re arete – people who can manipulate the elements and control humans. Like I can. But they’re after me. They’ve got my grandma.

‘You see, my grandma was hiding me from them. She managed to until I used my power last night–’

Ingrid’s brow furrowed. ‘Your power?’ Her eyes were confused but suspicion crept into them. ‘Control humans? You mean … last night, that man–’

‘It was an accident,’ El said quickly. She experienced a feeling of déjà vu as her own words rang in her ear, seeming to echo those of her grandma’s.

Ingrid’s eyes flicked from side to side as she pieced things together. ‘You control people.’ She paused as if she was letting this fact solidify in her mind. ‘How did I get here?’ She stared at El. ‘I can’t remember … and you…’

El shook her head. ‘No. I didn’t but someone else did. But only to get you away from that street. To get you here – quickly, safely–’

Ingrid shot to her feet and backed away. Her eyes bored into El. El stared at her friend, remembering how she’d always pictured this moment. But this wasn’t how she’d imagined it going. It was all playing out so differently to the way she’d dreamed it would. How had it gone so wrong? She tried to think of what to say, if she could just find the right words Ingrid would understand. Her mouth turned dry as she watched the terror become ingrained in Ingrid’s expression.

Catching sight of Dan’s movement in the doorway, Ingrid stopped. Her fear seemed to melt away as his gaze found hers. El didn’t know which was worse: seeing her best friend’s face distorted by fear or hollowed out of emotion.

‘Tell me what to say,’ Dan said. ‘You can’t do this – you’ve had a dose of serum. It’s important the concealment holds until we get somewhere that’s safer.’

El looked at her friend, then at Dan, and back again. He was right. It was better, safer for Ingrid to forget about her. El had caused her nothing but fear. And it would be safer for Ingrid to be as far away from El as possible. The blankness on Ingrid’s face may seem monstrous but that’s exactly what El needed to give her. A fresh start. A clean slate. A life in which she didn’t even know her.

‘Tell her to go back to her car and get home safely,’ El said. ‘Tell her that if she thinks of me later, or ever, to think of me as a passing acquaintance, someone she knows a little. Someone who moved away, who’s gone…’

Dan nodded minutely before steering Ingrid into the elevator. El watched as the doors closed. She imagined him staring into her friend’s eyes and relaying her words in a toneless fashion as if recording a voicemail message. The tears streamed down her cheeks as she pictured the artificial smile that would appear on Ingrid’s face. She visualised Dan, his hard, hot eyes reshaping her memory: a laser erasing a piece of her mind, the piece that encased all the memories of El. A vital part of her life. Sobs wracked her body as she realised she’d given permission, asked for this to be done. Her cries rose in volume. Everyone and everything that she’d ever cared about was gone.

- Chapter Fifteen -

Homecoming

The streetlights whizzed by in a blur. The Porsche Dan drove was the same one that Anna had picked El up in yesterday. But the sense El had then – that something lay ahead of her – had vanished. She didn’t raise any questions about where they were going. Earlier, when Dan had returned from dropping Ingrid off at her car, he’d insisted that they leave the lab. El had dressed, with some difficulty because of her leg, and they had left.

She didn’t look out at the city: its streets or people. Her surroundings became a haze, her senses deadened. It was like she was looking down on herself. Is this how graeae felt, she wondered. Do they move outside of time and view everything dispassionately? Pain flared through her at the thought of them, reminding her that her emotions still existed, just deep down. She quashed them, letting hate harden her.

The car stopped in front of a tall, glass building. Bright lobby lights and the curious, yet restrained, glance from a human concierge greeted them. Dan was supporting her since she couldn’t put much weight on her leg. They took the lift to the twenty-fourth floor. It opened onto a hallway with a single door: the penthouse.

A wide spacious living room met them, beyond which the floor to ceiling window let the outside in. El saw the white dome of St Paul’s Cathedral on the opposite side of the river, a scattering of cranes littered the skyline, the disjointed bones of the city. The cubic shapes of the buildings looked cruel against the night sky.

Dan’s voice tugged her back to reality.

‘This spot is probably our safest.’

El frowned again, looking out and down at the river Thames and across to the cathedral. This was so central. How could they be safe here from the All-Seeing Eye?

‘It’s like Alex always says about arete power,’ Dan said. ‘You are visible to graeae because of the unique signal you give out. In this area there are lots of arete residences and businesses; their power will obscure yours and offer camouflage. Plus, this is one of the few buildings registered under a different name to Endon, so won’t be immediately checked by the Order if they start trying to find you through links to the company.’

El nodded, hugging herself as she looked out at thousands of glowing lights. Dan turned on a few lamps and put the kettle on in the kitchen. El hobbled to the leather couch. A lime-green ottoman and vinyl record player caught her eye, a collection of sports car magazines lay on the coffee table. The cup of tea Dan brought her was weak and milky. Just the way she liked it. She wondered how he knew.

He sat on the other sofa, leaning forward, alert. He sipped an espresso, its bitter flavour tinting the air.

‘Have you heard from Alex?’ she asked.

He shook his head.

El took a sip of tea. ‘I didn’t know they were … that Alex and…’ She couldn’t continue. The word sealed her mouth shut. It lay thick and heavy as though her tongue was swollen. Anna, Mother, Mum.

‘They’ve been together as long as I’ve known them,’ he said.

El looked at him questioningly.

‘Ten years.’ He caught her look. ‘That doesn’t mean I’m old.’

The shadow of a smile flitted across El’s face before vanishing.

‘They rescued me from the Order when I was nine,’ he said.

Her eyes widened. The Order had wanted him too.

‘But it was only when I turned sixteen that they let me help in the Opposition.’

El knew that he was replacing she with they and was grateful. She couldn’t say her name and didn’t think she’d keep it together if she heard it. The teacup rattled against the saucer as her hands began to shake. She set it down, staring at the fine porcelain. It made her think of her mum. Delicate and elegant. She could imagine her sitting cross-legged in one of her silk dresses, sipping her tea. She didn’t need to ask, she knew it had belonged to her or at least Anna had chosen the china.

El wondered how often her mum had come here? She looked out at the smooth steel and glass opposite. Scaffolding surrounded incomplete structures, but there were the more permanent fixtures, such as the cathedral’s dome and church spires on the horizon. She imagined her mum staring out at these, her eyes resting on the same spot as hers.

‘Do you know where the Order are keeping your grandma?’ Dan asked.

El’s eyes held him uncertainly, but she remembered that he must have heard her telling Ingrid that the Order had captured her grandma. She shook her head.

‘It’s likely the Olympia,’ he said. ‘Nowhere else is as safe.’

That’s where the Triad would have taken El tonight – for training and to compete in the arenas. She wondered where she would be at this moment if Dan and the other rebels hadn’t interceded. Would she have got to see her grandma? A cold feeling crept through her. The Triad had executed her mum to show her what would happen if she failed to cooperate. Guilt stole through her as she wondered what they might do to her grandma because of her escape.

‘With the graeae blood in your system,’ Dan said, ‘we knew the Triad would execute you.’ The statement was tinged with a question.

He was wondering why she was still alive. When she caught his eye, she noticed something else too. He rearranged his look but she was sure that a moment ago it had been coloured with blame.

Of course, she knew that Louisa had been watching her for the last few weeks. She was the reason El had lost control of her power. El knew too that the typhon had orchestrated for Anna to collect her. Louisa had known that her mum would attempt to hide her from the Order, and that it was only a matter of time before proof of their treachery would secure their executions.

Dan didn’t know any of this though. As far as he was concerned everything had gone wrong the moment that El had shown up. She had run away from the Opposition, confided in Luke, gone to an Order meeting and blown her mum’s cover. In his eyes, she alone had been the one to get Anna killed.

El tried to stick to the facts. ‘They cut my wrists. They wanted to foresee my power before I died. When they drained me, they foresaw that I would attain the full power in the final arena, at the London Olympia. So they gave me something that healed me. Instantly.’ She remembered the syrup-like feeling of the metallic liquid.

Dan was on his feet. He paced before the window. ‘Okay. We can work with this. This is an opportunity. We’ve been trying for years to work out where and when the Triad will be altogether. With you attaining the full power in the final arena, we know they will be there. We have a whole week to train, to get you ready for the first match–’

‘Wait.’ El leaned forwards. ‘I can’t stay here that long. They’ve got my grandma. I need to hand myself over to them – tonight … or tomorrow.’

‘What?’ Dan said, turning to her. ‘Go back to them?’ He came towards her. ‘Anna devoted her life to fighting them and now you’re going to give yourself up after a day?’

The courtesy was gone. Evidently there wasn’t going to be any more they. El jumped to her feet, ignoring the pain that shot through her leg. ‘So I should just leave my grandma to die?’

‘Your grandma will understand.’ His pacing quickened with his voice. ‘To bring down the monopoly of wealth and power that the Order holds is the only way anyone can be safe. Their members hold the top two percent of wealth worldwide and ensure that it stays in the hands of those chosen. This structure of power means that arete who are weaker in manipulation – arachnids and nymphs – will always remain subservient. Whilst harpies, sirens and serpents will fight and die to swell the ranks of the Order and live at the top. Not to mention that most world-wide disasters – forces of nature … tornadoes, tsunamis, earthquakes – are just forms of persuasion, thrown around by Order members in power plays, destroying and taking thousands of unnecessary arete and human lives.’

Not this again. He sounded like Luke, just from the other side. Anger swelled through her chest as she thought about him. Luke. He was to blame for what had happened to her mum, just as she was. But as Dan stood in front of her, his eyes burning with fanaticism, she let all the anger she felt for Luke fuel her words.

‘You forget,’ she said, ‘I’ve seen how much you rebels value the human lives you talk about.’

He was silenced for a moment.

‘If you hadn’t run off, I would’ve told you there are radicals within the Opposition too. But, I’d have been there to keep them under control – if I hadn’t had to search for you in the first place.

‘All they were supposed to do was alter payments that were going into the pocket of Order members – stopping funds that would hinder their movement – but you ran off before you even knew what was happening.’

He glared at her. She felt the rage bubbling up inside her. Was he going to say it? She could see it in his eyes, see the hate flaring. She wanted him to say it.

‘You were lying to me,’ she said. ‘You were never going to tell me any of this, never going to trust me with any information. You and Anna were determined to keep it all to yourselves.’ As her voice rose, she willed him to say what he really thought. ‘You didn’t trust me!’

‘And we were right. If you hadn’t run, she wouldn’t be dead!’

El felt as though the air had not only been cut off again but squeezed from her lungs. It was true. Yes, El knew Louisa had been hell bent on finding a way to capture and condemn both of them, but perhaps if she’d listened to her mum’s instructions, they’d have eluded capture. If it wasn’t for her, her mum might still be alive. She stared at Dan. Her heart sank. She’d let him go on blaming her. After all that’s why Alex had left, and that’s why Dan was shouting at her. It was all her fault. Her mum was dead because of her.

She turned and let her senses journey ahead. She limped past the few framed prints and paintings in the hall to the bathroom, following the water moving in the pipes. Throwing the door shut, she turned the lock. The marble bath gleamed in the spotlights that she flicked on. Her heart drummed and blood rushed to her temples. The sensation reminded her of sitting up on the stone platform too quickly, when her mum had been led into the vaulted room.

The memory was so vivid it seemed to conjure her mum’s sweet, floral perfume. As she leaned back against the bathroom door, she felt a soft, silky material brush her cheek. A dressing gown: cool and soothing on her skin. As if afraid to crease it, she touched its folds with care. It’s where the fragrance was coming from. It was her mum’s. A sharp pain seared through her chest.

She took the robe down, switched the light off and climbed into the bathtub. The silk was refreshing on her face. She hugged it to her chest, pretending that she was burying her head into her mum’s neck again, the scent rising from her warm skin.

El ignored Dan’s knock. She told herself that she’d only stay a little longer. Her tears soaked into the material. She told herself that she would get up soon. She’d leave and go to the Olympia. She didn’t know where it was, but she’d wander around all of London if she had to. She wouldn’t let her grandma down like she had her mum. Besides, Alex and Dan hated her. The aroma caressed her tired limbs and stilled her mind. And she fell into sleep’s arms as if they were those of her mother.

- Chapter Sixteen -

Foundling

El awoke stiff and disoriented. She had slept the night in the bathtub. She splashed her face with water and swilled some toothpaste about her mouth. Eyeing herself in the mirror, she decided it would be best to sneak out. Dan loathed her presence and she didn’t want to still be here when Alex returned either, sure that he’d look at her with the same hatred. She’d scour the city centre for the London Olympia. It was unlikely to be signposted, but when she ran into an arete she could ask for directions.

She’d leave a note: a warning about Luke spying on Alex and the Opposition at the lab, in case they weren’t aware of it. She needed to explain too that Louisa had been watching her and her family for the last few weeks. Not to reassign the blame from herself, but to present the dangers that were encircling them all.

El crept into the living room but halted when she saw Alex sitting at the breakfast bar. He had a mug of coffee before him and wore the same clothes as yesterday. Judging by the deep shadows beneath his eyes he hadn’t slept a wink.

Dan was sprawled out, lightly snoring on the sofa. El scoured the room for her bag but had a suspicion that it was buried somewhere beneath him.

‘Going somewhere?’ Alex asked.

‘I thought it best,’ she said, her eyes still roaming the room before returning to the sleeping man. His face looked peaceful and gentle, but she imagined tugging at the cushions would be like poking the proverbial bear. More like waking a sleeping dragon she thought, remembering his accusation.

Alex set down a cup of tea next to him on the breakfast bar. Espresso cups were stacked up in the sink behind. The tea was milky again. A lump rose in El’s throat as she wondered if this was how her mum had taken her tea too.

‘I went to the catacombs last night,’ Alex said.

El stared. Did he have a death wish?

‘It’s fine – I just wanted to tell you that Anna’s … her body … is in the lab. It’s not the time to think about it … she’d understand. She wanted a cremation anyway. When things settle down we’ll hold a memorial.’

El nodded, her vision blurred and her throat tightened. She envisaged Alex, the man who’d loved her mum, collecting her body himself. She shook away the idea.

‘I need to tell you a couple of things too,’ she said thickly. She pictured her mum’s steely countenance and it seemed to fortify her. It was easier to talk than she expected. Sitting side by side, she didn’t have to watch Alex’s face for signs of blame. Resolving to share the facts she needed to, she spoke in a hushed voice and ended up telling him everything.

Occasionally she looked at him, but he looked surprisingly mild. She suspected he was still in shock. Perhaps he wasn’t taking much in. Finished, El sipped the remainder of her drink. It wasn’t yet dawn and the streetlights still shone outside along the embankment. Their illumination didn’t penetrate the river, which was still a wide, dark strip below.

‘You don’t need to worry about me,’ Alex said finally. ‘Some of my work at the lab is for the Opposition. We knew Luke, with his father’s connection to the Order, was only doing work there in the hope of getting information. It was the first hint that your mum was under suspicion. Luke tried a couple of times to coax out information from me about her.’

A surge of anger swept through El as she remembered Luke’s claim to know Alex, to admire him.

‘But you really don’t need to worry about me,’ he said. ‘The Order will overlook me as having any active involvement – I’m an andreko.’

El remembered the rebel using the same word as he’d toyed with the man in the office yesterday. The arete guard at the catacombs had too, when he’d caught sight of Ingrid. She shook her head, hating the word.

‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘The disdain arete award humans offers a form of protection. If I was caught doing something for the Opposition, they would assume I was under an arete’s manipulation. Just like last night at the catacombs – I was treated as an intermediary. In their eyes, I was there because I’d been manipulated to be so.’

El thought about Ingrid. She’d chosen to erase herself from Ingrid’s memory because her friend was safer not knowing anything about her, but it also worked the other way around. If Ingrid was convinced she didn’t even know El, information about where El was or what she was doing couldn’t be coaxed from her. No doubt humans were a very useful tool to arete within the Order. They used them as go-betweens, scrubbing their memories to keep their whereabouts and actions hidden.

But that’s not what Alex was saying. He said that they’d assumed he had been manipulated to go to the catacombs. El recalled how her manipulation hadn’t worked on him in the lab. She’d thought it had been because of the serum in her blood, but it had had nothing to do with the serum. Regret flooded her. If she hadn’t jumped to conclusions, if she hadn’t run out of the lab … She stilled her mind. She needed to be level-headed. She needed to establish the facts, to be more like her mum.

‘You’ve created an antidote,’ she said, ‘against serpent manipulation, haven’t you?

Alex nodded. ‘Among others. If there’s enough arete blood in my system, I can withstand manipulation. Your mum and I used to joke about it. When she was distant, she could be sure of making it up to me with blood. She used to joke that blood went down better than chocolate.’

El smiled at her mum’s wry sense of humour. Another side she’d never get to see. She thought about the subterfuge they’d managed against the Order too. This was why they hadn’t removed Luke from the lab. They hadn’t needed to worry about Alex being compelled to spill facts on Anna or the Opposition.

El caught what he said about her mum being aloof too. It was nice that it wasn’t just her that she’d been reserved with. She remembered the interaction between her mum and Alex; she would never have guessed there was anything but business between them.

Alex sighed. ‘Your mum spent most her life keeping away from you to protect you. She thought that by maintaining that distance – even whilst you were here – that you’d go back home to your grandma, safe.’

El remembered how she’d barely had anything but monosyllabic answers from her mum; her matter-of-fact tone when she had explained things marginally to her; how she’d seemed to want to hurry away from her as quickly as possible. She felt a pang of guilt that she hadn’t realised that this façade had been to protect her. She remembered Anna’s smile when she’d called her Mum last night. Had Anna missed her as much as she had over the years? Her mum had thought that by pushing her away she’d shield her from the Order and send her back to the safe life she’d lived so far. And perhaps she would have, had it not been for the vengeance Louisa was set on getting.

‘The truth is,’ Alex said, ‘your mum was never very good at emotion. She was in a dangerous position, playing double agent to the Order for the last fifteen years. She got very good at hiding what she was feeling.’

El frowned. ‘Why did she join the Order?’

Alex swept his hands through his hair. ‘When she came to London at seventeen, like you, she knew nothing about arete. It wasn’t long before she met her own kind and started competing in the Olympia. And before she knew it, she was an Order member. She said that she realised too late the reality of the Order: the corruption of the ruling serpent class and the Triad’s tyranny.

‘She came to London resenting your grandma – for the way she’d kept her segregated from her own kind. Later, she realised that her secrecy was to keep her from this cut-throat world, where she was no more than a glorified weapon, keeping lesser arete down, and dominating them – and humans – for wealth and power.’

El recalled how he had accused Anna of lying to her. How he’d said it was what Helena had done. El’s mishaps were like the ones that had shaped her mum’s own life.

Alex took a sip of coffee. ‘It wasn’t until your mum became pregnant that she tried to get out. I met her when she was considering an abortion. She was convinced that she couldn’t bring a child into the arete world. She knew that if you were raised here, you would grow to think like other serpents, that the Order was a good thing, aspiring to be part of it.’

El thought about Luke’s warped view of the Order, how he thought they were upholding justice and defending both arete and humans.

‘I got her involved with the Opposition,’ he said. ‘With graeae blood she was able to disappear for a while. With my network of other doctors, it proved manageable to conceal her for the last three months of her pregnancy.

‘When she came back to London, she pretended she’d runaway, ashamed that she’d miscarried. She believed leaving you with your grandparents was the best life she could give you. An upbringing like she had, except stricter.

‘Your mum said at school and in the neighbourhood she’d used her power, in spite of your grandma’s warnings that it was dangerous. She grew tired of your grandma’s objections, seeing her rules as overbearing. But of course, when she ran away and found out how valid her caution was, it was too late for her. With you, she made your grandma swear that there’d be no school, no outside world until you could be sure of controlling your power.’

El thought of her grandma’s rules. El remembered the broken rib from her horse riding accident. Her horse, Rika, was prone to nervousness and spooked easily. That day she’d bolted. El could have influenced her to stop, but even in that situation her grandma would have been furious. She’d taught her that it was better to break a few bones than to use her power.

‘When the Order was sent to pick up an unknown, female drakon,’ Alex said, ‘whom the Triad had seen near Colchester, she knew it was either a set-up, or that they had seen something powerful in you. Either way, she had to hide you.’

El thought of how her mum had arrived at the manor so quickly after the accident with the guest at Cobbold House. No doubt Louisa had informed Anna of the “unknown, female drakon” even before El had used her power. It had all been a set-up.

Alex’s fingertips tapped his cup, the ceramic beneath his nails rang faintly. ‘El … I’d like you to tell Dan everything you’ve told me.’

She clenched her teeth. She didn’t need to justify herself to him; she didn’t want his forgiveness.

‘I know you two argued,’ he said, ‘but whatever he said, he didn’t mean it.’

El looked shocked and wondered if Dan had told him what he’d said. Had they spoken about whether she was to blame during the small hours of the night?

‘It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. I come back this morning, you’re locked in the bathroom and Dan’s clutching his hundredth espresso, insisting he stay up. He had the distinct impression that if he didn’t you’d go running off to the Olympia.’

El shot him a look. Was he going to try to dissuade her from going to her grandma too?

‘Your grandma would be the first to want you to think of your own safety. And if you choose to go there, then she’d want you to be prepared.’

El cast her eyes into her cup.

‘You can barely walk, let alone fight just now,’ he continued. ‘And you’ve had no practise in using your elemental manipulation.’

She nodded. All his points were the same doubts weighing on her.
She didn’t know what she’d do when she got to the Olympia. The Triad had spoken about training and then combat. She didn’t know if she’d be any good at it, but she couldn’t live with herself if she left her grandma to waste away in a cell. She didn’t want to think about what competing in the arena would mean either. Perhaps she was destined to become what she had always feared: a murderer. And an Order member to boot, like her grandma and mum before her.

Even after that, she wasn’t stupid enough to suppose that the Triad would just let her grandma go. Hadn’t they already said that her grandma’s life belonged to Louisa. Maybe El would get to see her again, speak to her, feel her arms around her. Perhaps, if she succeeded, she’d be awarded with time. Time with her grandma.

‘Take the day to think things through,’ Alex said. ‘There’s more you have to hear from Dan, then you can make an informed decision about what you want to do.’

She visualised Dan sitting up last night, brooding about how much he hated her. What more could he have to say to her that he hadn’t already? El preserved her silence. Alex hadn’t seen how angry Dan was. Or heard how apathetic he was to her grandma’s imprisonment – how quick he’d been to talk strategy as opposed to rescue. El knew he saw her as selfish and unprincipled, willing to do whatever the Order asked to save her grandma instead of fighting them.

‘He loved Anna too,’ Alex said quietly. ‘Admired her, looked up to her as a leader against the Order, but the truth is, she was the closest thing he ever had to a mother.’

El’s insides twisted. She looked at the sleeping man on the sofa, perhaps more boy beneath the wide jaw and stubble. Deep down she knew why she’d been so angry at him. She’d seen the pain in his eyes all too clearly – pain at losing someone he loved. She was jealous that he’d got to know her mum in a way she never would. That she’d been denied.

‘Did he … live with you and Anna when you rescued him from the Order?’ She hated herself for needing to know, but her eyes held Alex intensely.

He shook his head. ‘We would have taken him in then, but he had to be on the move. Dan spent most of his childhood and teenage years with other rebels – across Europe. The lack of graeae willing to help in the cause back then meant that those on the run from the Order had no choice but to be on the move, constantly. When he was sixteen, he settled with us here.’

A picture of Alex, Anna and Dan blossomed in her mind. A happy family in the last few years. But there was a much more uncomfortable truth El needed to know, once and for all. She struggled but forced herself to ask.

‘Did my mum know I’d be at that meeting?’

Alex frowned.

‘Did she know?’

He looked over at Dan and then back at El. ‘Dan saw you with Luke when you ran. He came to tell us that you left with him. Anna put two and two together. She was due to be at that meeting anyway, and she had seen Luke at trials in the past. She knew that after what you’d seen with the rebels, you might be talked into going.’

Her mum had known that she was likely walking into a trap and yet she’d come anyway – come to save her.

‘Remember,’ he said, ‘it’s the Order and Louisa who are culpable.’

A wave of guilt swept through her, quickly followed by anger. And Luke – he’d lied to her. Even if he believed any of what he’d said, he’d been duped by everything his father and society had spoon-fed him. If he hadn’t been around, filling her head with lies, her mum might still be alive. She hated Louisa, hated the Order, and hated him.

She got up and went outside onto the terrace. The cool air drifted over her as the day broke and she fought to keep the tears at bay.

- Chapter Seventeen -

Foresight

El spent the morning outside on the terrace, watching the embankment spring to life. First the odd pedestrian, car or bike passed, then there were hundreds of people milling along the banks and crossing the Millennium Bridge. Ever since El was a kid, the sleek bridge had been the London landmark to stick in her head. Her granddad had shown her pictures of the capital’s monuments as part of her early education: Westminster Abbey, the Houses of Parliament, Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London. But the Millennium Bridge was her favourite.

It was because of the story he’d attached to it: when it first opened it swayed as people crossed it, earning the nickname the Wobbly Bridge. Her granddad elaborated that its movement was because of the music playing that day, and that when the first people walked across it, their steps had synchronised, pushing the bridge from side-to-side. Even then, hearing the story, El’s power had coloured her point of view. She’d been unconvinced that music could be responsible and told her granddad that a serpent had manipulated the people to walk in time. Her grandma had reiterated that it couldn’t have been a serpent because it was only herself, El and Anna who had the power to do that. El recalled her granddad’s laughter as he tried to explain that music had a mysterious power all of its own.

She smiled to herself, remembering why she’d treasured that story – secretly taking it as confirmation that her mum was in London. How funny it was to think her younger self had got one thing right. Her mum had been here. Perhaps she’d even been in this spot, looking out on the opening ceremony and listening to the revellers’ footfalls.

Alex broke her musings when he brought out some toast. She didn’t have any appetite but took a couple of bites when he wouldn’t budge until he’d seen her eat.

‘Can I light the fire?’ she asked, gesturing to the firepit in the middle of the seating area on the terrace.

‘You cold?’

She shook her head. He looked bemused but nodded and went inside.

There was a canopied area on the other side of the terrace with a basket of wood. A few grasses and shrubs sat in containers along the decking; all were pruned.

El carried some logs over and fitted them into the fire. She caught the sound of Alex’s raised voice from within,

‘Sometimes you are so like Anna!’

El wondered what had happened to anger him like this. Even in grief, Alex seemed so understanding. She suspected he and Dan were arguing about her and hoped that Dan would simply leave her alone if he hated her so much. She couldn’t take more of his resentment.

She turned her attention back to the firepit and attempted to set the logs alight with the electric lighter. A spark sputtered into existence and then instantly went out.

‘May I?’ Dan asked, appearing in the doorway and pointing to the firepit, his expression sheepish.

She nodded and returned to the wicker couch. He took the lighter from El, and with no theatricality, grew the small spark into a hungry flame. Within a few seconds, orange fire licked along the dry wood. The rich aroma hovered in the air and seemed to seep into El. Fire made her think of home. But even as it soothed her, it evoked the memory of the catacombs. On the edge of consciousness, when the inky blackness behind her eyelids had pulled her down, the fragrance from the torches had permeated her thoughts. Although coloured by home, they’d also been tinged with thoughts of Dan.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Sorry for everything that I said yesterday.’

El felt the sting of tears threatening as pain seared through her. She was, in part, responsible for her mum’s death. There was no repairing that, but perhaps he could forgive her when he knew everything. Her gaze remained on the fire as if trying to draw upon its strength to say what she needed to.

‘I need to tell you something–’ she said.

‘It’s alright, I heard.’

Had he heard everything? She felt a surge of relief that he knew she wasn’t entirely to blame, that the Order had known about Anna’s deception before El had needed rescuing. He knew that if it wasn’t for the full power they had foreseen her possessing, then she’d be dead too.

She squirmed, wondering if he’d picked up on her jealous tone earlier too, when she’d asked if he’d lived with her mum and Alex. She skimmed his face. This mysterious man, who was part of her mum and Alex’s family – and by extension hers. When she’d been young, she’d wished her mum had been around, wished that she’d had a dad, as well as brothers and sisters.

‘Nosy,’ she said.

The hint of a smile crept into the corners of his lips but almost immediately disappeared. ‘So … about competing in next week’s arena…’

El held her breath. She wondered if he was about to start again: tell her what a coward she was, how she only cared about herself.

‘I’ll train you,’ he said. ‘But it’s going to be tough. You’ll need the week to get ready.’

She nodded. ‘And in return?’ she asked, sensing that there was more he wanted than for her just to agree to stay a week.

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘For a long time the Opposition has sought to take out the Triad – the one thing we were unable to know was where they would be, all together, and when. So, it’s simple really, you compete in the first arena in six days’ time – on Friday. Matches are scheduled on Saturdays too so all being well, you will qualify for the second arena the same weekend; when you do reach the final arena, the Opposition will infiltrate the Olympia and take out the Triad.’

El shook her head confusedly. ‘Wait a minute. How do you know that the Triad will even be there at my final match?’

‘Because they won’t want to miss it. They wouldn’t want to miss seeing you come into the full power.’ His dark eyes held her for a moment and then flicked to the firepit. ‘As far as I know your grandma is the only other serpent in living memory to have possessed that power. The Triad will be there.’

The magnitude of his words settled on her. Is this what had always been awaiting her she wondered. She’d always known she was cursed, capable of wounding those around her, but the graeae had foreseen her kill. Is that what she was destined to do?

Dan’s strong voice interrupted her train of thought. ‘The Opposition can take care of the rest. We’ll be able to infiltrate the Olympia once you’ve got through the first two arenas. It doesn’t matter if it takes weeks or months for you to pass them, the point is that when you get to the final arena, the Triad will be there, and so will we.’

El frowned. ‘But how can you infiltrate the Olympia? I thought that only those recruits whose blood was drawn into the kerykeion could get in?’

‘You’re right. We need to have a kerykeion marked on the building – one that contains Opposition blood. I’ve got a contact who will see to that.’

She could feel his impatient eyes glued on her. The same zealous light burnt in them as had last night, when he’d spoken about attacking the Order.

Footsteps roused her from her thoughts and Alex came out of the flat, a frown on his face and a cup of coffee in hand. ‘Dan, you haven’t mentioned that it isn’t the veiling alone that is the only obstacle to infiltrating the Olympia. It’s impervious to attack and entry because the kerykeion have another type of blood in the mixture. It’s what makes the building invisible to arete until they are incorporated into the veiling.’

El remembered the arete in the catacombs whispering about the Olympia.

‘As well as that,’ Alex continued. ‘To enter the final arena, this same blood must be in your system.’

El looked at Alex questioningly. ‘And what is this blood?’

‘It’s something Anna managed to procure for the Opposition,’ Dan said quickly. ‘Empousa blood. The same thing the Order used to heal you last night.’

Alex sighed loudly and sat down on the couch next to El. ‘Of course, it’s entirely up to you if you choose not to do any of this, El. I can keep a high dosage of graeae blood in your system to conceal you.’

She shook her head. She had her doubts and concerns, but she already knew that she had to go to the Olympia. Her grandma was there. Dan’s plan of having the Opposition attack and take out the Triad was the best plan that she could hope for.

‘No, I need to do this,’ she said.

Alex frowned. She imagined it was difficult for him to see her agreeing to oppose the Triad after Anna had tried to protect her from it, and after he’d lost Anna to them.

‘I’m sure mum would understand,’ she said gently.

Alex’s eyes grazed her and he seemed to struggle with what to say. He looked at Dan and his expression settled into one of exasperation. ‘You’re right – she would.’ He got up and went inside.

El stared after him.

‘Give him time,’ Dan said quietly.

El nodded, her eyes slipping to the fire.

Moments later, Alex issued back out onto the terrace. He presented El with a book. Its pages were thin and tissue-like. She reckoned it had been printed in the latter part of the 19th century; her granddad had been fond of collecting old editions. Dan watched from his chair, his eyes suspicious.

‘This is an empousa,’ Alex said, showing the page to her. He traced his finger over the words as he read aloud. ‘“Empousa blood rejuvenates damaged tissue. It accelerates cell replication at such a rate that damage which should take months to repair, or even that which is classed as irreparable, heals within minutes.”’

‘Do you know what they are?’ El said.

Alex nodded. ‘They’re near enough a legend amongst arete, as they are amongst humans. The more modern word is vampire.’

El’s gaze leapt to Dan, but he looked unsurprised.

‘Only the most senior Order members,’ Alex said, ‘can confirm their existence. In the Victorian era, when this book was published, more arete knew of them.’ He tapped the thin pages. ‘Arete writers like Byron and Stoker appropriated facts about them for their stories. So, the restorative, life-prolonging and hypnotic properties of empousa blood are some arete truths that have found their way into human culture, in the guise of fiction.

‘I know,’ Alex said, observing her wide eyes, ‘but seeing is believing. And you were privy last night to its effect first hand.’

El, still speechless, merely nodded at the thought that there was another arete with such miraculous power. But thinking about all the incredible things she’d experienced in this world: serpent blood that altered human perception and graeae blood that shielded one’s power, it wasn’t that much of a leap to imagine that there was an arete whose blood could repair tissue. Her throat dried as she remembered that the liquid she’d been fed in the catacombs was this arete’s blood. Empousa blood. Vampire blood.

‘I’m not going to grow fangs, am I?’ she asked.

Alex smiled. ‘Those are embellishments. No, the blood has no long-lasting effects. The empousa cells remain in one’s system for up to twenty-four hours. In that time, the cells will help repair damaged tissue. If one were to receive a minor wound shortly after being given a few drops of empousa blood, the tissue would repair itself. However, one would need a high dosage to heal arterial bleeding or organ damage.’

El nodded. She remembered the thick liquid in her mouth. She’d almost choked on the substance but swallowed reflexively every time they had given her another mouthful. She must have had a lot to repair the severed arteries in her wrists.

‘Have you tested the blood on diseased human cells?’ she asked.

A thin smile swept across Alex’s face. ‘No, I haven’t had a chance yet, but I’m sure the results will be positive.’

‘Well that’s good, isn’t it?’ She smiled, thinking of how passionately Alex had talked about arete molecular biology being the key to curing human illness and disease. He’d found it.

Dan was nodding. ‘It is. And the Opposition has a real chance now – having empousa blood and knowing where the Triad will be at a specific time. We can infiltrate the Olympia and annihilate them. If we can do that, it’ll show arete worldwide that the Order isn’t indestructible.’

A cold chill ran down El’s spine as Dan’s far off look made her think of the graeae’s milky eyes. She forced back the sense of disaster. He was right. It was the best chance she had of freeing her grandma. Now, all she had to do was make sure that the next time she stood before Louisa and the Triad, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

- Chapter Eighteen -

Dark Eyes

The first day of her training passed in a blur of fire and smoke. El learnt to manipulate her element after just a few attempts. The power was like a coiled spring wrapped in her core. It was the one that leapt out when she influenced humans – the one she’d spent years trying to extinguish.

The first time she willed that energy and heat to rise, the tiny flames that answered seemed deceptive, as though despite their size they would consume the whole world. As this sense ate at her, she tried to smother it, but instead lost control. The fire grew and flew towards her. She dived to the terrace floor and buried her head in the crook of her arm. On looking up they were gone. Dan reminded her that breaking eye contact with the flames extinguished them. Managing the fear of her power and mastering her emotions was enough to occupy their initial training session.

Over the course of the day, work progressed inside the apartment too. Lots of arete came and went; Opposition members who had been drafted in to help redecorate. They ripped out the kitchen, the couches and the rest of the furniture from the open plan living room. A varnish was applied to the walls, ceiling and floor of the area: the gloss contained a dose of empousa blood. The arete tested their handiwork and attempted to ignite the floorboards, to crumble the plaster work of the ceiling and walls, and to break and dissolve the glass. However, none of the surfaces could be altered either by force, or through elemental manipulation.

When El and Dan came in after their first day’s training on the terrace, the open plan area had been transformed. A mound of boulders was heaped in the centre of the room, within which a fire roared. A channel of water wound around the outskirts of the room. El recognised a resemblance to the platform and pits of elements contained in the catacombs.

This was her practice arena. She was told that the first and second arenas at the Olympia had the addition of trenches. In the initial few training sessions they improvised by coating the sofas with a protective layer of empousa blood and placing them intermittently about the room. On the first day, Dan and El practised alone and only for a few hours at a time. During the working week, their presence would be well camouflaged by the influx of arete workers, but with only arete residents in the area at the weekend, they had to be cautious and took a dose of graeae blood every hour.

After a couple of days, they established a routine, training from early morning until late evening. A variety of arete joined them over the course of the week; Dan wanted to ensure that El had practice fighting arete of all elements. At the end of each evening they were dirty, tired, and ached all over. Nevertheless, they spent the first hour tidying up in order to make the space habitable once again.

As they’d demolished the kitchen, Alex ordered takeout every night. Over dinner, Dan and El would debrief on the day’s session, and whatever Opposition members were around joined them. There was talk about what would be needed to coordinate the attack which, if El won the matches in both arenas this weekend, could happen as early as next weekend. They reckoned they could muster a force of a hundred Opposition members. Alex had already started scheduling appointments at the lab and taken blood donations from members. Their blood would be mixed with that of empousa, ready for Dan to use in marking kerykeion, once he was in.

Each night, El was also eager to hear of any news the Opposition brought about her grandma. They had picked up a few rumours from contacts who had entered the Olympia at the weekend. There was hushed gossip about a serpent with the full power. They couldn’t be sure whether the talk was about El though, or about her grandma. Either way, everyone thought it likely that Helena was being held there.

Adam and Tia often visited the penthouse. Although their elemental abilities weren’t strong enough to be of use in the training sessions, their company and the way they organised the evenings was like a breath of fresh air. Tia never failed to bring an exotic plant with her each night. By the end of the week they had eaten under coconut, banana and palm trees. Adam too made sure that they had a sandy beach-like floor to sit on every evening. With the fire in the middle and the exotic topiary, it felt like they’d been transported to a tropical island.

El was so exhausted by the time everyone left that sleep should have come easily, but she tossed and turned due to the ache in her leg. The injury had healed – a lot more than it would have if it hadn’t been for the infusion of empousa blood in her system when she’d received it – but it was still painful. She’d wanted to ask Alex for another dose of empousa blood, but Dan said that they couldn’t afford to spare any as every drop was valuable and needed for the Opposition’s infiltration of Olympia. As well as the pains, El’s growing fear of the approaching matches meant that sleep grew ever more elusive. Whenever she did drift off, she invariably woke in a cold sweat, having escaped a nightmare.

The first night that she woke screaming, she found Dan at her bedroom door. On rising the other nights, he was already sitting in the hallway, where there was a sofa and desk. He was a light sleeper and her shouts roused him first.

He didn’t ask about the nightmares and she didn’t bring them up. Instead, they fell to examining the bookcase that spanned the wall above the desk. Its floor to ceiling shelves ran along one wall of the flat. Soon El discovered that they harboured not just books, but a treasure trove of objects. She recognised a few crude attempts at pots, cups and a mask that she had made when she was little – not relegated to the attic or chucked out as she’d thought, but sent to and stowed away by her mum. Dan critiqued her pottery skills and decided she wasn’t destined to be an artist.

Over the next few nights, El asked about some of the pictures and objects. The black skeletal dragon was from Krakow – the sinewy bronze sculpture a replica of the life-sized version on the Vistula River. Dan was in a photo before the full-scale one, its seven heads dominating its body, more snake-like than dragon.

El teased him about the kerykeion scrawled across all these items that he’d sent from Europe to Anna. His lame explanation was that he hadn’t trusted the postal service. By the end of the week they’d examined most of the objects about the place. She was quick to put away a beautiful, Venetian mask. Its watery motif so suited her mum that it instantly recalled the sensation of her eyes. The blue and gold colouring evoked their exact shade too.

The photos interested El the most. In the majority, Dan was alone, standing before different sculptures and street art. In one he was in front of a pair of giant eyes painted on a wall in Paris. He couldn’t be more than twelve – tall and awkward looking, amidst a few slim trees lining the bank of the Seine. Even though the photograph itself was unmoving and showed that there had been no kerykeion or serpent blood involved in its development, the eyes conjured to mind the All-Seeing Eye. It was clear also, not just from this image, but in all of them that wherever he was, thoughts of the Order were never far away.

On waking on Thursday night, El found the hallway empty. Turning the desk light on, she took down a photo from the shelf and sat on the sofa. In this one, Dan was only marginally younger than he was now. He hadn’t quite gained the width of jaw and chest but otherwise looked much the same. He stood before a pale face painted on brickwork, its eyes closed. The photo had been taken some distance from him, and the reflection of the painted face was mirrored in the surface of the water by which he stood. Once more he’d sought out artwork that was evocative of his and Anna’s fight against the Order.

El took time studying the image in a way she hadn’t had the chance to do yet with Dan present. He’d already mastered the brooding look he seemed to favour. There was something vulnerable about him, sandwiched between the white face and its reflection. Despite being tall, the dark boy was dwarfed by the artwork. He looked lost, like he was in danger of being engulfed by the murky waters of the river. El felt like she wanted to hug him. She saw that this picture didn’t bear any kerykeion.

‘That one’s from Rome,’ Dan said as he came out onto the landing. He slumped into the desk chair.

She hastily lay the photo in her lap, her cheeks burning. She scolded herself. It’s not like he could tell what she’d been thinking.

‘Why did you really put the kerykeion on the others you sent back?’ she asked, looking up at the bookcase.

‘I told you.’ He rubbed sleep from his eyes. ‘You can’t trust the postal service.’

Her eyes fastened onto him. She didn’t know why she was pushing it, but talking about him all week had become a welcome distraction from her own thoughts.

‘I don’t buy it,’ she said. ‘You marked ordinary objects and pictures with kerykeion when there was nothing to hide.’

His eyes took on the hardness of burning coals. ‘I didn’t trust any humans. My adoptive parents were human. When my powers first manifested, I was always influencing people to do things: give me things, explain things they never naturally would have. It terrified them. They were religious too. I think they thought I was the devil or something.’ He smirked, but the look in his eyes was serious. ‘And then the Order … well, your mum … intervened.’

A chill swept through her at the thought of what Anna must have rescued him from. They weren’t on familiar ground any more. The object in El’s hands wasn’t a shield for her to hide behind either. And the man who had only offered her small talk when not training, had given her more. The semblance of routine that they’d built over the week was disturbed. She could pick up something else, stick to discussing places and travels or …

‘I used to think that way about myself,’ she said.

She felt Dan’s eyes running over her face, but she picked up the picture again, focussing on it instead. It was easier to open up when she imagined she was talking to the lost boy in the photo. Whereas the man opposite? His expression seemed too hard to welcome any openness.

‘My grandma told me when I was very young that our line was born from the blood of Medusa, but with no one else around who was like me, I went through a stage where I was obsessed with the Bible. She said our line was of Greek origins, and from way before Christianity, but there was something so terrible about my power that I couldn’t help connecting it with the serpent in the Garden of Eden.

‘I think it was the fact that it was from my grandma’s side, knowing our power had been passed onto my mum, and then me. I used to wonder if we were carrying Eve’s sin: to always bear the temptation of the serpent.’

‘Descendants of Eve and the Devil,’ Dan said. ‘That’s dark.’

She shrugged. ‘Course – now I know that the earliest arete kerykeion can be traced back to the Sumerian deity Ningizzida as far back as the twentieth century BC.’

He frowned.

‘Alex gave me some books,’ she said.

‘I’m not training you enough if you’ve got time to read.’

‘Who needs sleep, right?’ she said with a shrug.

He leaned forwards. ‘You should try to get some.’ He looked thoughtful, as if he wanted to say something more, but his lips didn’t move.

El’s heart raced. She couldn’t go back to sleep – she had awoken from a particularly vivid nightmare, and knew that as soon as she shut her eyes it would be back.

‘I don’t know if I can do this,’ she said.

Dan’s eyes locked onto hers. ‘You can. You will.’

At the beginning of the week she’d have taken affront to the forcefulness in his eyes and tone. Now she felt reassured by his certainty, his sense of purpose. She wished that she could borrow some of it. She wished too that he was coming with her, but it was too dangerous for him to enter the Olympia earlier than the planned attack next week. He was well known to the Order and had been involved in some major attacks against it. There was too much risk that he’d be recognised by someone.

‘The nightmare,’ El said, ‘in it, I’m in the final arena. Mum’s there too, but when I look at her she turns to stone, and crumbles.’

A hush fell over them. The Triad had foreseen El attaining the full power, but she hadn’t yet allowed herself to voice what that meant. Neither Dan nor Alex had broached it either. She was afraid of her future, her destiny – afraid of becoming a murderer.

‘The Triad may have foreseen you using your power in the final arena,’ he said, ‘but that doesn’t mean that you will. Besides, you know that as soon as you qualify for the final arena – we’ll be there. You will never have to fight in it.’

El frowned. How could that be true? That’s what the Triad’s power was, wasn’t it? To foresee the future. When the graeae had had their premonition, they’d taken away her future. She was fated to kill. Worse still, the sense that she’d always known it stole through her again.

Dan shifted in his chair and sighed. ‘They don’t know everything. I mean, they didn’t foresee that Anna was a double agent. I don’t believe that everyone’s future is entirely foretold; the power they wield is to make people believe that it is – to make people believe they have no power over their own decisions and actions.’

El nodded but still looked worried.

A smile crept over his face. ‘Come on, they’re nothing but prophecy-wielding psychos. Since when are you afraid of crystal balls?’

El met his eyes. Warmth fluttered across her face, but the gleam in them was hard as usual. She searched them for traces of the boy from the photo. She couldn’t see him. That boy had been lost as though swept away by one of the rivers he’d been photographed beside. The determined glint in Dan’s eyes was brittle like Anna’s had been. He’d learnt to bury his feelings too. Like ice over water, El couldn’t see what was below the surface.

Dan rose and went down the corridor. El thought he was going to his room, but instead he went to the cupboard and slid a covered board over to the desk; much wider than him and almost as tall.

‘Your mum was saving this for your birthday,’ he said. ‘But I think you should open it.’ He left it propped up against the wall and went quietly to his room at the end of the corridor.

El sat for some time, her eyes boring into the brown paper. Her mum had got her an eighteenth birthday present. But Anna had never got her anything before. El didn’t know if she wanted to open it. Her first, last, and only present from her mum.

She peeled the paper off slowly, as though afraid of what was behind. Her heart raced as she caught sight of the mix of stormy and muted blues. Her eyes widened. It was a Burne-Jones painting. El had received one each birthday from the Perseus Cycle, since she’d turned eleven. All those years her granddad had taken credit for getting them. When he’d passed away, Helena said that she’d hunted them down online with help from the estate manager. El’s birthday wasn’t for another month but she smiled, pleased to have it early.

This one depicted Perseus with the gorgon’s head as he flew past the giant Atlas. The Titan held up the heavens on his shoulders, the beautiful, glowing cosmos represented by images of the named constellations. Her eyes ran over the glittering centaur, Chiron, and the Nemean Lion.

The giant was already half turned to stone in the depiction and El remembered the way her grandma told this part of the story. Perseus took pity on the giant and, showing him the baleful head, turned him to stone. Back then she’d never realised how much death Helena had seen; how much death her own eyes had brought. She thought of her grandma’s grave face and knew it was remorse that affected how she’d told the story. A power was neither good nor evil; it was how it was used that mattered. El felt her resolve steady. If she did have this power, it was hers. Only she could decide how or when to use it.

Tears moistened her eyes as she read the postcard, tucked into the bottom right-hand corner of the frame:

For she who carries the weight of the world on her shoulders, may she know both her strength and the joys she holds.

El snuck out onto the terrace with new purpose. It was her power to do with as she saw fit. The shining glass of the skyscrapers reflected thousands of lights that streamed from the windows of flats and offices. She could feel the heat and power emanating from their surfaces. She allowed herself to feel the energy around her. She smiled to herself at the thought of Dan giving her the present. He was so cloaked in his own armour that he struggled to show that he cared in words but giving her the painting tonight showed that he did. Just like each of the gifts he’d chosen with care and sent back to Anna. She stared out with a new determination and took in the city and its power.

- Chapter Nineteen -

Kindled

El stole a few hours’ sleep before morning, then was back to training for the last few hours available to her. At noon, she stretched the fire across the room like it was a banner unfurling in the breeze. She felt quick and lithe as she evaded Dan’s attacks and returned her own. When evening drew in however, her confidence and energy diminished with the setting sun.

She was dressed and ready to leave at seven but loitered on the terrace.

‘El?’ Alex called. ‘You need a jacket.’

It was summer. Even for a doctor he was being OTT. She didn’t want to borrow any more of her mum’s things. Earlier in the week she’d worn Anna’s stuff but her mum’s trousers were a little too long in the leg and her tops on the snug side. Tia had picked up a few things for her yesterday and it was a relief to have comfortable fitting clothes again.

El frowned, ready to make her case as she came into the living room/arena. Alex wasn’t just holding a coat, he was holding a fur coat. She eyed it with mistrust. Her mum might have been able to pull off wearing fur, but she was more of a tomboy and was surprised he hadn’t realised. Not to mention that it looked like real fur. She wasn't keen on draping herself in an animal carcass; it made her think of all the taxidermy at home. It was one thing on the walls, as part of the history of the place, but wearing the stuff was totally different.

‘You’ll be pleased of it in the cold,’ Alex said.

She picked up the coat and shrugged it on, catching sight of her reflection in the window’s glass.

‘It's not like we're going to the Arctic is it?’ she asked. Despite her reservations, she couldn't help examining the woman in the glass with satisfaction, her pale skin and blue eyes were complimented by the soft silver. El had spent a little extra time getting ready this evening, taking care to choose a pair of jeans that she could move in easily, pairing them with a lace top. Of course, she still wore her usual military boots, but the fur lifted the casual outfit and she looked more stylish than she ever had.

‘It depends,’ said Dan, appearing from down the hall. For a moment El thought he was going to make fun of the coat, but he fell silent. His gaze lingered instead on her made-up face and skimmed the neckline of her top.

‘On what?’ she asked.

‘On which type of arete is predominant.’

When they left, Alex did his best to look unconcerned and gave her a hug, telling her she’d do great. Yet she could tell by the way he ran his hands absent-mindedly through his hair that he was worried. She tried not to think about all the eventualities that might occur and to communicate through her hug how much it meant that he was here for her.

They took another car from the basement: a Z4 Roadster. She recognised it from one of the glossy magazines that had been upstairs. When she’d realised that they’d belonged to her mum, she’d read them all. Apparently she was into cars now.

As Dan climbed into the driver’s seat, she wondered whether there was such a thing as a poor serpent.

She jumped into the passenger side and closed the door. ‘I haven't asked what you do work-wise or if you’re full time rebel?’

Again, she was keen to turn the conversation to Dan, feeling the need for a distraction. She wondered for a second if she’d put her foot in it. Perhaps he was being supported by Alex and her mum – surrogate son and all.

El was relieved when he gave her a rare smile. ‘Been working since I was nine. Cam – who’s taking you to the Olympia tonight – works with me. We had to find something we could do from city to city so we formed a fire troupe. I do shows with the group you’ll meet tonight – Summer, Christmas, Easter, big festivals over the year.’

‘That's cool,’ she said. She thought of all the photos of squares and street art; places he’d performed. He’d had an artist’s education.

‘It’s always good fun. We might catch the end of tonight’s show.’

She gulped, thoughts of tonight creeping into her head. It seemed odd to be thinking about entertainment. The matches didn’t start until ten o’clock though so they had a few hours to kill. Cam was going to report back to the Opposition on El’s progress through the arenas. She was also going to be the one to draw the kerykeion inside the Olympia – one with Dan’s blood in it, allowing him and the rebels to infiltrate. It was too much of a risk for El to do so, not knowing whether she’d have any time alone when she entered or if she’d be immediately taken into the Order’s custody.

El wondered if she’d fight well enough tonight to qualify for the second arena tomorrow. How long would she be at the Olympia thereafter she wondered. How long before she qualified for the final arena? Her heart began to thrum at the thought of competing. She tried to steady herself – she had to stay calm and level-headed.

They soon turned away from the river and started to pass theatres. El looked out at the ads for shows. The static pictures distorted as her eyes ran over their surfaces and activated kerykeion. Arete cast members beamed out against a backdrop that declared their particular expertise: siren singers surrounded by moving waves or webs of arachnid actors. With the ever-changing images it was dazzling and as the number of people swelling the streets grew, so did El’s unease. The crowds rushed around, hurrying to pre-theatre dinners and early shows.

They parked up on a street corner and Dan secured a piece of paper with a kerykeion under the windscreen wiper. As they entered Covent Garden, El admired the colonnaded entrance of the market, as well as the quaint, cobbled streets. There were tables and chairs set out before canopied restaurants and bars, the light from shop fronts and stalls mottled shoppers and diners.

‘Does it make you think of Europe?’ she asked.

El moved around another group of people that were walking towards them. Her heart skipped as she veered away from them. She hadn’t been out since she’d arrived at the flat. Not for a week, since the catacombs. The bustling Friday night streets were making her nervous.

‘Not quite,’ Dan said. He steered them into the light of a shop front and reached into his leather jacket. He held two brooches in the palm of his hand. One was a simple silver kerykeion: the single snake curving up the vertical staff. The other had two snakes that knotted at the top, their fine-scaled skin blending with the feather work behind to form the wings of Hermes.

‘May I?’ he said.

El beamed and he pinned the ornate one to her top. She thought of those old movies with couples at prom, where the guy gives the girl a corsage.

When they went back out onto the streets, no one looked at them. Instead people gave them a wide berth. She grinned at Dan. There was a veiling of serpent blood worked into the silver brooches.

‘Now it’s like Europe,’ he said with a gleam in his eye. He looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him. They moved like shadows about the square, stopping at stalls and lingering wherever they wanted. They were both more comfortable fading into the background.

She’d been allowed a closer glimpse of his life. The vanishing boy. The one who’d no doubt worn a kerykeion most of the time due to his suspicion of humans. His hiding place had been a street full of people, not an empty manor house, but he’d spent most of his life in a kind of limbo, just like she had.

They put away their kerykeion to get pizza from the market in the centre of the square. Food in hand, they watched the acts that gathered. They saw a siren still a fountain, step onto the pool of water and walk across. To top it off, he reversed the water, sending its spray heavenwards. The next act was underwhelming for an arete: it consisted of a disappearing act. The arete went into the box and when the container was opened, it appeared empty – to the human eye. El and Dan grinned at the arete in the box, who had put on a beanie hat that had a serpent veiling worked into it.

When Dan caught sight of the fire lighting the dusky sky, they hurried towards the church. A large crowd had congregated around the fire performers. He grabbed El’s hand and jostled through to the front. Up ahead, the firelight danced through the crowd. El felt a thrill as they stopped at the front. For a moment, all worry fell away as the comforting warmth suffused her face. It felt as if the day was returning.

Rounds of applause and cheering erupted through the audience and El's smile grew as she watched the performance. She could see that the faces of all the drakon in the act were upturned, all of them immersed in their art form. None of them were manipulating the spectators. El beamed, watching the central performer juggle balls of flame.

She felt a twinge of pleasure that had nothing to do with the show – Dan was still holding her hand. She looked up at him, seeing that the light had banished the shadows from his face and eyes. His elegant cheekbones, hard jaw and long lashes were defined as the fire traced his profile. She had the urge to copy the light, to stroke the path across his cheek.

The crowd gasped and El’s eyes wound back to the performance. The central drakon was broad and muscular, his bare chest bore a network of grey tattooed flames, which trailed down the backs of his arms into coloured ink, blending with the spheres he juggled. He’d just added a fourth ball of flame.

Two women circled him. They wore full-skirted dresses and twirled as flames rose up and down their forms, in time with their movements. Both wore their hair in short jagged cuts and looked like pixies swaying in the torchlight. One had a nose piercing, the other a series of earrings along the top of her ear; their studs glimmered in the flickering light. The woman nearest to them whirled by. She had luscious, dark skin and winked at Dan as she passed. The other woman was ivory-skinned and luminescent in the light. They made a pretty, contrasting pair and their forms charmed the audience as much as their skill.

The ivory-skinned woman on the other side of the circle diverted El. In the flames, her face was cast in their direction. Her gaze sparkled as she eyed Dan with recognition but sharpened as it fell on El. The next moment, it wasn’t just circles of flame dancing around this woman but a fiery ball in her palm. The crowd gasped at this unexpected event, so unlike the rest of the choreography. The woman threw the ball of fire which arced over the man in the centre and rushed towards El. Before El could decide whether to mime catching the fireball or to extinguish it, Dan moved in front of her. He caught the flames. Applause erupted.

He joined the circle of performers, Dan’s conjuring mirrored the woman’s opposite. Their performance was seamless; the fiery patterns of one were answered by the other. Watching them, El was reminded of the peacocks at home displaying their tail feathers in displays of courtship. Fiery swirls, spirals, figures of eight, and snake-like curves bathed the air. Even as the man in the middle quickened his movements, Dan and the woman stole the show, their flourishes of fire becoming ever more elaborate.

The performers were gradually closing the distance between one another. Dan and the woman were close. Their palms almost touched and a thin membrane of fire sprang up between them. It was as though the contact between their fingertips was the cause. The dark-skinned woman on the outskirts took this as cue and twirled in, landing in the arms of the man in the centre. All the flames flickered out.

Amidst the cheering and applause, El fumed at the woman in the centre. As the performance ended, the woman grabbed Dan’s hand and bowed theatrically. El moved away, waiting in front of the church for the crowd to disperse. She watched the reception the audience gave the troupe, noting the generous donations that were being dropped into the glowing, glass jar in the middle. Now that the rest of the flames were out, the light from the giant money jar was the only one. Curiosity drew people to it. It seemed to have flames, dancing up and down within the glass. Most people dropped something in and she could hear people debating about how it worked. ‘Money to burn,’ someone said with a laugh.

The first performer to detach themselves from the group was the woman with the nose piercing.

She spotted El. ‘Hey.’

‘Hi,’ El said. ‘That was brilliant.’

‘Thanks. You must be El. I’m Cam. I just need to go change in the van.’ She gestured to the cumbersome dress.

‘Sure.’

Left in the shadow of the church El felt deflated. Her eyes wandered across the dim square to where Dan and his friends were still answering questions from the last of the spectators. The sound of the woman’s laughter seemed to sear through El like flame. El tried to make sense of her feelings. Earlier when Dan had given her the brooch she’d felt a rush of feeling. Standing in the crowd watching the performance and holding his hand, she’d been happy. For a few precious seconds. This woman had taken away that feeling when she’d thrown the fireball. And now El was standing in the shadows, watching her throwing herself at Dan.

El moved out of the gloom of the building as the final humans moved off.

‘Would have been nice to get some warning about the audience participation and improv,’ the tattooed guy said, eyeing the woman.

She grinned and took this as another opportunity to touch Dan’s chest. ‘But it’s Dan. I couldn’t help myself.’

Dan extricated himself from the woman’s arms. His dark eyes met El’s fleetingly.

The woman seemed to take this as a cue to notice her. ‘Sorry – my aim was off there.’

El shrugged. ‘Not everyone’s a good shot.’

The woman gave a strained smile.

‘I’m Pete,’ the guy said. ‘This is Tanya and I guess you’ve already met Cam.’

El smiled. ‘Yeah, she’s–’

‘Ready,’ said Cam, joining the circle.

Dan reached into his pocket and turned to El. ‘Take my car. Cam will bring it back later.’

‘Woah, don’t think you’ve ever let me near your ride,’ Cam said. She looked kind of punkish now in her black, skinny jeans and ripped T-shirt.

Dan’s lips twitched. ‘Not a scratch, unless needed.’

He was talking about the blood and the kerykeion that Cam had to mark. El knew that Cam had seen Alex today. Both empousa blood and Dan’s were in Cam’s bloodstream so that she could sneak it in if they were searched. All she’d need to do was cut herself and find a moment to draw the mark on the inside of the building. Then Dan would be able to infiltrate the building when the time came. He’d be the first rebel in and would mark another kerykeion, containing blood from the other Opposition members.

El felt as though all the warmth had fled her body. This couldn’t be it, could it? She hadn’t thought about saying goodbye tonight. She’d known it wasn’t a good idea for Dan to come, but she’d expected something more than this. A moment. Some time to say … what? She didn’t know what she wanted to say to him. He’d been with her all week, not just in training and telling her what to expect in the arenas, but during the long hours of the night. When she was haunted by her mum’s moonstone eyes and porcelain skin; when Anna’s face crumbled to ash. Suddenly, she was more afraid of waking up alone in the dark, without Dan there to comfort her, than of entering the arena tonight.

Dan dropped the keys into her hand. She pushed them into her pocket and felt the cold metal of the kerykeion brooch. She offered it to him with a smile. He folded her fingers over it. The feel of his hand on hers seemed to charge the air like it was on the verge of sparking, as if what she had been struggling to say was about to become manifest. El remembered the thin film of fire that had occurred between him and Tanya earlier. She felt that there must have been something between them, or still was.

‘Keep it,’ he said. ‘A talisman.’

El’s gaze locked onto his. Dark eyes. Hard but only with belief. Like tempered metal they had taken on a rigidity to protect them from harm. Eyes she understood.

‘Remember the training,’ he said. ‘Stick to the trenches when you need to and don’t take unnecessary risks. You’ll get to the final when the time’s right and I’ll be there.’

She nodded. What could she say? She couldn’t possibly say what she felt just now – that she wanted him with her, wanted the comfort of him being near, that his voice had buoyed her up through the long course of each night. The feel of his hand on hers now was somehow soothing and at the same time dangerous, his brief touch coaxing up all the emotion that she’d controlled for so many years. She wondered what would happen if his arms were around her or his lips on hers.

She pushed the thought away. She reminded herself what was important: her grandma, the plan, getting through the arenas, the Opposition infiltrating the Olympia. She couldn’t risk falling apart just now. This wasn’t the time or the place to let emotion cloud her judgement.

‘I’ll see you soon,’ she said. She turned and, without looking back, walked away with Cam across the shadowy square.

- Chapter Twenty -

The Olympia

El drove. The route was programmed into the satnav and the automated voice was the only one to sound through most of the journey. The more El thought about what was to come tonight, the more she wondered about Cam. Dan had only told her that she’d competed once in the Olympia so could get in, but she didn’t know any more about her travelling companion.

They stopped at some traffic lights. ‘So, you’ve been in the Olympia?’ El said.

Cam’s gaze snaked to her. ‘Yeah, but only once – the serpent life isn’t for me.’

El’s questioning gaze remained on her.

‘You know – make mummy and daddy proud by getting into the Order, get a high-powered job and pair up with another powerful serpent so that the life cycle of the serpent can start again.’

El nodded and drove on as the lights changed. She thought about Luke and how competing was what he wanted – more than anything. Her mum hadn’t wanted her raised in this world; Anna had shielded her from the influences and aspirations Cam was talking about. El wondered what had caused Cam to deviate from the traditional path her parents wanted for her.

‘But you’re not in the Opposition?’ El said.

Cam shook her head. ‘Nah, I keep out of it. But I don’t mind doing this for Dan if that’s what you mean. He’s a good guy and helped me get away from my parents. If it wasn’t for him, I’d have been in this place every week, forced to lead the life they wanted.’

El fell silent at the bitterness in Cam’s voice, unsure what to say.

A smile played on Cam’s lips. ‘So … what’s the deal with you two anyway – you and Dan together?’

El flushed and regretted starting the conversation. She shook her head.

‘Why not?’ Cam asked, her eyes still on her.

‘It’s complicated,’ El said.

Cam sighed. ‘Mysterious like Dan. Boy, you’re gonna need help if anything’s gonna happen.’

Before El could say anything, Cam indicated to pull up on the pavement and the satnav chimed in to announce their arrival. El had assumed that the building would be located in the West end of the city, where there was an area named Olympia, but the route had brought them eastwards. She knew this part a little as Endon was nearby. Not far ahead was the Walkie-Talkie building – a curved cuboid that looked like one of the early, brick-like mobiles. Being based on the opposite bank of the river all week, she’d had a good view of its form and the other buildings that surrounded it.

The side street they were parked on was narrow. Most of the streets around here seemed to be pedestrianised or one way. With the tall office blocks and skyscrapers hemming them in, El got the sense that they were being herded, that they’d soon be backed into a corner from which there was no escape.

Cam turned to her. ‘Listen, no offence but I’m gonna go in by myself. It’s better for the plan if we’re not seen together – and for me to be honest. I’ll tell the guard inside that there’s someone standing outside.’

El nodded, trying to look nonchalant but anxiety filled her. She was here. And she would soon be alone.

When they got out, El locked the car before throwing Cam the keys. They walked together in silence, but soon Cam directed her to stop. El’s heart thrummed as she watched the black-clad girl walk a few metres further, and vanish. El tried to steady her resolve. She pictured her mum and fought the urge to burrow her neck into the collar of her coat, knowing the comforting floral fragrance would be there. She stood still and waited.

El felt the weight of the arete’s eyes before she saw him.

A tall, stately-looking man was suddenly before her as though he’d materialised from thin air. ‘Yes?’

‘I’m El Devereux,’ she said. ‘I believe the Triad is … expecting me.’

A wave of recognition swept his face at her name. ‘If you would allow me?’ He withdrew a knife and a vial. El extended her hand, wondering for a moment at how normal this seemed after only being in this world for a week. Then again, she supposed after being drained of most of her blood, she wasn’t about to get squeamish over a few drops.

The man retreated. El sensed the veiling shift to incorporate her. It seemed like the buildings had moved. In the blink of an eye, they were elsewhere. A wide, empty concrete space stretched out around her. El stared in amazement, feeling as if she’d been transported to a wasteland. Dan had warned her that the shift in perception would be sudden and disconcerting. He’d joked that all the maps, including the underground, were woefully inaccurate. And sure enough, the Olympia was a black hole, swallowing roads and train lines in a moment and making the city she’d been in for a week, unrecognisable.

El looked up at the new building, the only one to inhabit the area. Its glass façade was a few metres before her. Its surface glittered in the night sky, beneath the floodlights that illuminated its form. It didn't look like any of the skyscrapers she'd seen across the city's vista before. It stood conspicuously in the night as though contemptuous of the rest and proud to break ranks. The inner part of the building rose in angular lines, cuboid in form. However, wrapping itself around the inner section was a curving shape. The patterns in its glass weren't uniform, some sections were coloured, others clear. She recognised its structure and pattern as the body and scales of a snake. The whole building was shaped like a kerykeion. The inner structure was the staff; the outer, the coiling body of the serpent.

The arete guard drew back the door and she entered the lobby. The door closed. El gulped. There was no turning back. She was in. A female guard, whose gaze was warm on El’s skin approached her.

‘Put out your arms please, like so,’ the drakon said.

El held out her arms and the drakon patted down her clothing, running her palms down her arms and legs. The guard nodded and pointed towards the reception desk.

The room was wide and spacious. The reception desk sat at the back, slightly off centre and to the right. A woman clothed in a black dress was behind the desk, a human. El saw the value in this. Anyone else wouldn’t be neutral when serving all types of arete.

Her eyes ran over the smooth, polished marble floor and walls. In the very centre of the room there was a rectangular pool set in the atrium. It was illuminated by two shafts of light, angled from the walls at the side. As she moved across the room, she spied that the light came from two windows, absent of glass. They had a strip of fire dancing across their bases, which reflected in the metal strip embedded there, the light danced across the pool of water in the centre. It wasn’t just water in the middle but earth that encircled the pool too. Earth, air, fire and water all represented in the design.

The human smiled at El. ‘You’re expected on the fiftieth floor.’

El failed to reciprocate, unnerved by the human’s artificial expression. A pang of sickness swept through her as she thought about how malleable the human was. El entered the cavernous elevator and looked back, noting the multi-coloured light playing on the white marble at the other end of the lobby. It came from an archway where the walls were made up of stained glass. She recalled the snake coiled around the outside of the building with its coloured panels.

As the doors closed and the lift ascended, El wondered who was expecting her. Would it be the Triad themselves who received her? Perhaps Louisa? Both prospects made her blood boil. A lump rose in her throat and it was a challenge just to breathe normally. The last time she’d seen them, they’d just executed her mum. Her heart seemed to swell in her chest, its rhythm travelling through her like the beat of a bass.

She forced herself to get her temper under control. She had to regulate her emotions if she was to govern her elemental power successfully. If she won in the first match tonight, tomorrow she’d compete in the second. And then if by some miracle she succeeded there too, she could be in the final next weekend. The rebels would infiltrate the Olympia and both she and her grandma could get out of here.

Coming out onto the fiftieth floor, El found herself in a bar. It was busy – packed in fact. A group of ladon fell to watching her – she felt as though she was walking through swampland. Remembering the way Louisa had affected her breathing, El focussed on taking deep, regular breaths. She wandered through the space, determined that if the typhon was waiting for her she wasn’t going to be taken by surprise.

A woman in a sparkly dress caught her eye and El was mesmerised when it changed from white to crystal blue, to turquoise green and back again. Various arete throughout the room were adorned in shifting clothes as if bright beams constantly cascaded over them.

As well as the arete and their strange clothing, the space itself was peculiar. The first thing El detected was the chill air wafting over her cheeks and down her neck. She pulled the fur more tightly around her, pleased of it. The lighting was soft and caught the clear glass walls and marble floor. El spied an archway leading to a glass passageway. She looked out into the tubular corridor. The building’s spiral staircase was contained in the curved section.

As El returned to the room, she heard a crunch under her boot. At first she thought it was glass on the floor but then realised it was a blanket of snow. The glass walls were opaque in places, sheets of ice clinging to the panes. She travelled further into the room, and found that the tables were similarly enveloped. Icicles hung from the ceiling and the ledge of the bar.

There were clearly more air and water manipulators present tonight, blanketing the room in snow and ice. Some of them were delighting in their ownership of the space and setting mini snowstorms throughout. She smiled as flakes settled on suit jackets like flecks of dandruff. There was a group of typhon and harpies in one corner. They had skirted around the issue of limited floor space and were having a tête-à-tête in mid-air.

Humans were serving behind the bar. She overheard their jokes about being out of ice as she got up to it. Propped up at the bar, she eyed the other clientele curiously. A few sat at tables, others on couches, while many stood around the room – a typical bar scene except for the thick coats and that most of the groups were playing with elements.

El’s eyes fell on the giant screen on the wall as listings flickered across the display. Only the matches soon to start in arenas two and three scrolled across it. She caught sight of the two names she recognised from Dan’s explanation of the London Olympia: Asphodel, arena two, and Elysium, number three. The Gymnasium was the first arena, but there was no schedule presented for it. According to Dan, no one up here would care about what went on down in the lowest arena. New recruits and novices didn’t warrant the attention of Order members.

Her gaze skimmed a woman nearby who rose into the air, accompanied by a flurry of laughter from her companions. El watched the group and spotted one arete with a scar running along her cheek, which proceeded down to the corner of her lips. It gave her mouth a lopsided look. Another in the bunch wore a plaster cast on his arm. Had they competed in one of the arenas recently? Which ones resulted in these kinds of injuries? How long had this woman been trying to qualify for the Elysium and the Order, where she might in time secure enough empousa blood to heal her face?

Not wanting to get caught staring at the scarred arete, El looked away. Still, everywhere she looked she found traces of the elemental matches: the shuffling gait of a woman approaching the bar, a man who sat with his arm dangling in his lap. He must have just competed as there were tremors in his arm. He was grimacing and, every so often, nursed the drink in front of him. Perfect droplets rolled from the tumbler into the air, each of which he savoured as they hit his tongue. El sensed in the way his muscles relaxed that it wasn’t water he was drinking.

‘First time?’ asked the guy next to her at the bar. His gaze made her feel light-headed – a graeae.

She felt sick as the sensation recalled the dank catacombs. El didn’t much care for the suggestive twinkle in his pallid eyes either. She nodded.

‘Shame about the cold,’ he said. ‘I prefer drakon nights personally – you guys know how to party – more like the Bahamas. I mean, hello, we’re in the UK. Where’s the novelty in this?’

When the bartender came over, the guy let El put her order in first.

‘Whisky ambrosia, please.’

It was Dan’s advice on what to drink. When she’d reminded him that she wasn’t yet eighteen he’d said that human restrictions had no relevance in Olympias. He’d never tried it but Anna had vowed it was heavenly.

El baulked as she accepted the drink and handed over her card for the two-thousand pound charge. Just as well it was her mum’s. She could see how subsidising the upkeep of the manor all these years could seem like a trifle if this was the lifestyle she was used to. Over the years, El had worried that her grandparents must be keeping things from her about the manor and its businesses. She knew that in previous generations the upkeep of the place had meant that the grounds had gradually been sold off, as well as antiques and other heirlooms. She was sure that her grandparents were doing the same but keeping it from her. Now she knew the truth; just as her mum had been the one to buy her the Burne-Jones’ paintings – originals no less – she must have kept the manor ticking over.

El stared at the honey-coloured liquid and knew what she was about to taste. She'd read about it in one of the books Alex had given her. It was a very rare herbal extract, of which no living arete knew the origins. Most conjectured that the plant it originated from was extinct. Many nymphs had spent their lives searching for it, and there were often false reports issued to say that its source had been discovered and that its supply would no longer be scarce. In reality its origin was a mystery, and no matter how much nymphs enriched their produce during the growth period, nothing could equal the taste of ambrosia.

Older families of arete had stores of it that were handed down through generations as a highly prized and valuable heirloom. Otherwise, arete could purchase food and drink infused with it, but it came at a high price. Drinks and dishes mixed with it cost thousands of pounds and were only within the reach of the wealthiest. Or – in other words – within the reach of Order members.

El experienced a twinge of guilt but as soon as she took a sip, the liquid obliterated everything. In the space of a few seconds, she tasted the barley – how it had absorbed the sunlight in the fresh air, how it had dried in the smoke of burning moss. It was as though the wonderful vapour was wafting through her veins, coursing through her and filling her lungs. The liquid trickled down her throat as thick as caramel and yet as light as air. Every part of the whisky’s journey was transparent. The ambrosia not only illuminated each individual component, it fused them back together and magnified the taste.

It was liquid fire. It didn’t just warm her in the inclement environment: it both invigorated and calmed her. Best of all, it offered her a modicum of control as Louisa approached.

The typhon reached her. ‘How lovely of you to come. I don’t think your grandma would have survived another weekend without seeing you.’ She smiled. ‘Follow me.’

El felt a tremor of fear but the warmth and light distilled in the drink burned through her and helped stave it off. It reminded her of her own power, of its similar nature, hidden, but lying just beneath the surface. With her free hand, she reached into her pocket and clasped the kerykeion brooch that Dan had given her, pressing the cold metal into her palm. Just like the talisman, there was power in her; she just had to summon it.

‘I can see my grandma now?’ El asked.

A smile hovered on Louisa’s lips. They reached the elevator. ‘You are funny, El. I don’t think after running away you deserve that, do you?’

Louisa pressed the button to go up. El understood from Dan that the first arena was on the tenth floor, the second on the sixtieth and the final on the hundredth. The other levels contained bars, restaurants, hotel suites and several arete businesses. As the numbers increased on the display panel, so too did El’s anxiety. The levels continued to rush by, three gone within a second and with them, El seemed to leave her stomach behind. What did Louisa mean by bringing her up to the top floor? To the final arena. To the Elysium.

- Chapter Twenty-One -

Elysium

The hundredth floor opened up and out. Before they’d left the lift, Louisa opened a vial and poured the few drops it contained into El’s glass.

‘Drink,’ she said.

El tipped her glass back. The metallic flavour of empousa blood muddied the liquid.

‘All of it,’ Louisa commanded as El brought her glass down. She swallowed the rest of its contents.

El recalled what Alex had said about the final arena. One had to have empousa blood in one’s system to enter it. It would be physically impossible to enter the arena without it. But this empousa blood was only available to the highest-ranking Order members. Only to elite members and … combatants of the Elysium.

Her stomach lurched when they exited the lift and she saw the tiered seating rising around the central floor: a stadium. The stage in the middle wasn't level but had platforms of wood and stone built at various heights, linked by staircases. El realised the throbbing in her leg was melting away; the few drops of empousa blood were curing the injury. As she moved on, the pain was entirely gone.

The staircases and platforms stood at angles, some were even upside down. It made El think of an Escher painting. There were no walls further up so the staircases and platforms connected to the outer steel frame of the building. Without glass between the metal beams, the frame looked bare, like carrion long picked clean by the birds. However, El could still trace a shape in the unadorned metal. Wings. The wings of Hermes: the very top of the staff-like structure.

She followed Louisa to the far side of the arena, taking a seat where they could observe the space more fully. Most of the rows nearer the front were already occupied. Her gaze skirted the faces of men and women and her spirits quailed. There were dozens of them. Perhaps a hundred gathered. All high-ranking Order members.

She stared up through the steel-winged frame at the open sky.

‘Most of the central arena is decimated each match,’ Louisa said. ‘It’s practical to make it open aired.’

El thought of all the space surrounding the building. That's why there were so many miles around it: to limit the damage from the falling debris that likely rained down hundreds of metres to the ground. The fragmented sky was a patchy grey through the metal beams; the night’s darkness reduced by the city lights.

Something caught El’s attention. Something glinted above them. El thought that the snake that twisted up the building had ended further down the structure but saw that there were layers of kerykeion worked into its glasswork. It morphed from out of the grey sky, its scales changed from grey to midnight-blue. She traced its sloping head and open jaws. There, sitting within its fangs above everyone, were the Triad. They sat higher than all others as if occupying the best box at the theatre. The female graeae, with black hair, Katia, was nearest. El remembered her strong voice. Katia’s gaze found her and El’s head whirled.

A voice issued from out of the murk. El looked up at the steel wings, then down at the staircases and platforms of the central space. She found the source of the noise in the front row as speakers pumped out a repetitive, electronic beat. A few sirens had taken up position on the stairs, their voices, although aggressive, were hauntingly beautiful. Their raw power was palpable in their song. The sound was mesmeric; its waves churned something up inside the audience and grabbed their attention.

Close your mouth and hold your tongue

I'll take your words and bind them.

One of the sirens squeezed the corset she wore and threw it off into the crowd as lots of arete whistled and cheered. She looked lethal; her moves hostile as she continued to voice the words, directing them with power at the other siren.

Your shallow sea cannot protect thee.

She drew lashings of water and twisted them towards the male siren, shaping the spirals into coils. The movement was sudden, the waters imbued with the fury of stormy seas. A few people in the crowd cheered but the other siren twisted and turned to avoid her clutches.

The woman directed her dangerous stare back to the crowd and the male siren’s voice dominated this time.

Crimson coughs gushing out,

Flooded skull foaming through.

Threaded blood spinning round,

Velvet sea, look at me.

This time the water he shot twisted around her body, curling up until it reached her throat. The crowd whistled and cheered and the sirens’ act ended. They took their bows.

Expectation rippled through the crowd as the music ended. The anticipation was brittle. El had sensed the atmosphere was edged with danger as soon as she'd come out onto this level. Even without the snow and ice that cloaked the rooms below, these beings belonged to the cold and dark. Her eyes took on a note of desperation and flew around the stadium, looking for an escape route. She didn’t want to be sitting amongst this crowd that had just been warmed up for the match, for the violence she could feel brewing. She trembled. Was she about to be ordered into the stadium?

El wished she hadn’t finished her drink. She wished for that all-consuming sensation again that the ambrosia in her bloodstream gave, where everything else faded away. She’d read that arete could become addicted to the powder that disassembled everything and yet connected it all back together again with more meaning. She was beginning to see why.

The flames of torches roared into life on the outskirts of the stadium. The channel of water surrounding the circular space was illuminated by the fire. Despite the light and warmth, El shivered. This wasn’t meant to happen. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Combatants competed in arenas one and two first, only then were they allowed into the final arena.

A typhon and ladon stood side by side between the brightest flames. At first, El thought these were the competitors and her heart’s thunderous rhythm eased. Louisa smiled, savouring El’s turmoil. Two platforms rose from the dark pit in the central space, illuminating two more figures. The real combatants. The audience thundered into life again, cheering for their favourite. Their noise boomed through the arena and the proceedings halted until it died down.

The typhon at the top of the stadium issued a decree, his voice rumbled around the whole arena, his speech catapulted by the air currents he manipulated, ‘Use of powers by spectators is forbidden. In the event that the arena is destabilised, I or the ladon overseer, will repair it.’

The ladon took up the cue and came forward. ‘Hunter, typhon versus Mitchell, ladon. Match commence.’

A deafening applause erupted. At once Mitchell sent the platform his opponent stood on crumbling. The rubble crashed down into the pit, sending a deafening reverberation throughout the stadium. Hunter rose easily and the crowd roared in approval. He took to standing upside down on one of the upturned staircases. The rock beneath him crumbled but he ran down, pretending to step on each one, whilst in reality floating through the air.

The two competitors appeared evenly matched. Below, Mitchell was speeding up the vibrating particles in the platforms and stairs, hewing off material in an attempt to knock out his opponent. Hunter used the air current in turn to push the material back at him.

A few minutes went by in which both combatants crossed the arena, sending hunks of stone and wood flying. The falling material and near misses caused flurries of excitement through the crowd. The overseers ensured that the arena remained intact around the crowd. Each time debris came within a few metres of the audience, it ricocheted off, as though an invisible bubble existed around them. The overseer soon directed the wayward material down into the pit.

Hunter had a few near misses but seemed to have the upper hand. Most of the time he evaded Mitchell’s rocks and propelled himself out of harm’s way. Whereas the ladon was tiring and his evasion was becoming less effective. A few times he only managed to erode the material as it crashed into him, sustaining the impact, his arms raised protectively to shield his face and head.

Hunter kept up the onslaught of his attacks and the ladon’s strain was evident. The typhon took to the staircases, walking upside down and started to somersault in the air, much to the crowd's delight. His twists and turns became more ostentatious as he sensed his fast-approaching victory. Each chant of, “Hunter, Hunter, Hunter!” seemed to infuse him with more daring and showmanship.

The audience applauded him while Mitchell lay winded on a platform a few metres below. Hunter was on a wooden staircase, turning to the right and left to survey his adoring audience when the stone staircase a metre above him collapsed. Caught off guard, he was swept down with the next two proceeding stages, disappearing into the depths of the pit in a cloud of rubble and dust.

Mitchell was about five metres below Hunter when the first level crumbled. The ladon had enough time to roll down the platform, grasp the next staircase and bolt up before launching himself into the air. He clambered up onto a side platform, watching as Hunter and the sheets of rock and wood were swallowed by the abyss.

The crowd gasped and watched Mitchell in astonishment. The ladon continued to pant on the stage, inspecting the pit below as if he too – with the rest of the spectators – expected Hunter to fly back up into the arena. The seconds ticked by. Despite the audience holding its breath, each arete present could hear the hollow pit. Not a whisper or a pulse issued from the space.

The silence broke when the ladon overseer announced, ‘Mitchell, ladon, victor.’

El watched in a daze as lashings of fire and water, ice and snow, even ribbons of earth were let forth, decorating the air like party poppers. With the victor named and the match over, the ban on powers was lifted. She slipped from her seat, following Louisa past the applauding crowd. Her eyes were raised to the elements that floated above the arena like confetti but her thoughts strayed to the levels below – beneath the dirt and debris – where the dead man lay.

- Chapter Twenty-Two -

Matched

El felt cold as they descended from the hundredth floor. She knew that Louisa had brought her up to the final arena in order to unnerve her – to fill her with dread. She kept replaying the moment when the staircase had broken and swept Hunter down into the depths. With all her dreams about her mum turning to stone, El had been fearful of the final arena because it was foreseen that she would kill there. Now, after seeing a fight to the death, it was a different kind of dread that disturbed her. If she didn’t fight well enough – even in arenas one and two – there was a chance that she might get hurt or worse. The idea, which before had seemed so abstract, was now palpable.

Louisa’s honey-sweet tone sounded, ‘Oh, you do look pale. I hope you’re going to be well enough to compete.’

They were nearing the tenth floor, where El would go up against another arete. She felt herself calming in spite of Louisa. The typhon had intended to unhinge her. She wanted El to lose whatever self-control she had mastered over her power. El was unnerved but at the same time things seemed to be slipping into place, to make more sense. Over the last week, she’d agonised about the Triad foreseeing her kill in the last match. She couldn’t imagine it though. How could she ever intentionally kill? After seeing the match however, she couldn’t help think that if someone was coming at her, intent on taking her life, that it would be natural for her full power to manifest. She shook away the thought. There was no need to be thinking like this. It would never come to that. She wouldn’t have to fight in the final arena because Dan and the other rebels would infiltrate the building before her final match.

The elevator halted at level ten and El tried to comfort herself. On this level there were safe spaces – trenches in which to seek cover – just as in the practice arena she’d fought in all week. Besides, after what she’d just witnessed, this arena would seem like child’s play. The lift doors opened. A huge circular room lay ahead, in which four glass domes rested, above sunken pits. Tiered seating climbed up around them, as well as steps leading up to an elevated walkway and viewing platform.

The space was kitted out in a similar way to the rest of the building; the floor and tiers were marble and the outer walls and viewing decks glass, making observation of the matches within the domes easy. She followed Louisa past the first two pits and stared down into them. She observed the familiar training structures: trenches hollowed into the floor. There was the mound of rock and fire burning within the centre of each arena, and the channel of water encircling the whole area.

El was surprised at how many people occupied the tiered seating around the arenas but realised matches were already going on within. There was a pair of arete: a drakon and typhon who were competing in the first arena on her right. El gulped momentarily. The typhon threw himself into the trench just in time as a corridor of flame erupted towards him. The drakon’s bare chest was bathed with sweat and his face bent with determination. She stared wide-eyed, scolding herself for thinking that this would be easy.

El climbed the glass stairs and stared down at the domes. The glass that should have been broken by the intense heat, emanating from the fighting drakon as if from a furnace, wasn’t affected at all. Even the soot that dimmed the glass soon faded and disappeared as though absorbed by the material. Upstairs in the Elysium, the overseers had been present to protect the audience and stabilise the arena but down here the impervious glass around each arena meant that every match was self-contained. She thought about the empousa blood making the glass and floor within impervious, that which ran in her veins. It made her think of Cam too. She hoped she’d found a moment in which to mark a kerykeion. Now that she’d seen a real match in the Elysium, it was comforting to think that if she ended up there next week Dan and the other rebels would be able to get in to stop the match.

Louisa moved along the walkway, surveying each of the matches below. El halted and peered down for a few seconds, examining the manoeuvres, and trying to think of the competitors below as though she were critiquing one of her own training sessions.

She noticed the giant screen that was positioned to the left of the elevator. It had the current combatants listed and the arena number they were in. From her bird’s eye vantage of the rings, El saw the numbers worked into the floor before the entrance of each one. Her stomach somersaulted as she noticed something else about their design. There was the faint line of a triangle carved into the marble around each arena. The circular shape of each arena, with the ring of water on the outside and rocks in the centre, made each one look like an eye. The burning flame in the middle was its pupil. Each one formed the symbol of the All-Seeing Eye.

El felt a flurry of surprise as she recognised a familiar figure in arena four. The Asian girl – who had painted the room in the catacombs with fiery blossom – was competing. She wasn’t doing very well and seemed to have taken up permanent residency in one of the trenches as a hydra kept sending streams of water over her, hemming her in. A loud klaxon sounded and the hydra stopped and looked around, as the drakon got out of the trench and exited the arena through a glass door. The same was happening in the other arenas. Both combatants from arenas one and two came out and the winners of the round entered arenas three and four.

The names of the winning combatants scrolled across the screen. There would be another round after this one, which would determine the winner from the first batch of eight. El wondered whether she’d be in the next batch. Her eyes ran over the screen to see if there was a listing for the entrants in the next round. However, it still only listed the current competitors. She returned to scrutinising the fighters below, trying to determine who had the upper hand. Were there any patterns in their movements? Could she predict who was the strongest in elemental power? If she fought well she might be up against one of these four in the final match.

A flutter of cold mixed with a tingle crossed her cheek and startled her. Before she spotted him, she knew who it was. She narrowed her eyes as Luke came up the glass staircase. There was surprise in his emerald-green eyes. She tensed her jaw and fists but forced herself to ignore him. She couldn’t afford to lose focus just before the match. She wouldn’t let him get to her.

El shrugged off her jacket. It was getting warm with the amount of heat the drakon were putting out in the arenas. El rolled up the sleeves of her top and fixed her attention on one of the matches below.
She thought that Luke wouldn’t have the nerve to approach her and was startled when he came to stand right beside her.

‘You’re alright…’ he said.

El’s gaze shot up. She felt contemptuous that he was talking to her. He called this alright! Locked into competing in the Olympia in the hope of saving her grandma. But, of course, being here was all that he’d ever wanted: to compete in the arenas and have the chance to join the Order was a dream come true.

Her cheeks burned as she remembered how much she’d liked him and how he’d lied to her. She winced. He’d only had to say a few nice things to get her to follow him to the catacombs. However, she swore that he wouldn’t find her so malleable now.

‘Leave me alone,’ she said and walked past.

‘Wait.’ He put his hand on her arm. She frowned, recalling how he’d pushed her up against the wall in the meadow when they’d first met. How he’d held her there, forcing her to listen to all the lies about the Order. He’d got under her skin and made her doubt her mum, Dan and the Opposition.

Red-hot anger seared through her and she twisted his arm, pushing him down into the glass railing. She crouched down and glared at him. ‘Touch me again and I’ll kill you.’

His eyes flooded with shock, but even with pain contorting his face, his tone was concerned. ‘What happened, El? What did they do? My father won’t tell me … and when I went to see Alex, he said he didn’t know where you were.’

For a moment she was surprised that he didn’t know. She smarted at his choice of word though: they. She fixed him with a grim look.

‘You … you and your father and your precious Order are murderers,’ she said. ‘You killed my mother.’

His eyes were wide as he stared at her. He shook his head. She let go of his arm and straightened up.

His eyes shone with confusion. ‘But, you’re here–’

‘The Order has my grandma. If I don’t compete, I won’t see her again.’

She started to walk away, unsure of where to look, feeling annoyed at herself for letting him get to her. This was probably what Louisa wanted. El’s eyes skirted the arenas down below and she saw that it was the last round. There was only a drakon and a ladon competing in the fourth arena. She wiped the tears of frustration from her eyes and tried to analyse the thrusts and parries of the arete below. A few hushed conversations were going on nearby. Their argument had caused a stir. She looked up from the match and realised that most people were watching her, not Luke.

He watched her confusedly as he saw the looks El was drawing. When the listings changed on the screen, a hubbub of chatter sprang up amongst the arete on the walkway and around the arenas. The babble of voices rose in surprise and excitement, the surge and swell filling the room. El heard the repetition of certain words carried through the space in an array of exchanges. ‘Her,’ they said. ‘The one, yes Devereux, foreseen.’

She looked up at the screen and finally saw her name: Devereux vs Laukas, Dome 1.

El started down the glass stairs, her legs feeling shaky, one phrase ringing in her ears as it crested on the tide of voices: ‘The full power’. A lump rose in her throat and her stomach somersaulted. Everyone’s eyes were pinned on her.

It was almost a relief to enter the glass dome. The impervious glass meant that she wasn’t distracted by the feel of everyone staring at her. She was certain that she’d been scrutinised by every arete present. It hadn’t occurred to her that the Triad’s prediction would have been known to others. She felt like a spotlight was on her as she waited for her opponent to enter the arena too.

She tried to still her heart and breathing, wondering what type of arete would be her first opponent. She looked to see a strawberry-blond haired man coming down into the arena. She sighed.

‘I’ve got a match, Luke.’ She didn’t feel so much as angry with him now, as peeved. Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone?

‘Me too.’ He moved over to the other side of the arena.

She stared upwards through the curved walls of the dome and past lots of figures and faces in the tiers, gawking down at them. She found the raven hair she sought. Louisa smiled viciously; this was her pairing. El drew her eyes away from the typhon. Louisa was getting a kick out of increasing her turbulent feelings. She mustn’t rise to the bait.

Luke was standing in front of the trench on his side of the arena. He looked thoughtful. His open stance and clear eyes made him look unprepared, vulnerable even.

‘I’m so sorry, El,’ he said. His eyes fell to the floor. ‘I didn’t know what they’d–’

El felt her anger simmer. ‘Don’t.’

The automatic glass door of the dome was closing.

‘I don’t want to fight you,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to do any of this.’ He looked around dismally. ‘Not after what you’ve told me.’

She glared at him, daring him to be stupid enough not to defend himself.

‘Well, I’ve been thinking about how much I’d like to fight you,’ she said, ‘every minute of every day…’

The klaxon sounded through the dome, bouncing off the glass and reverberating. El whipped up the fire in the centre of the pit and sent it whirling towards Luke, forcing him to dive into the trench behind. She wanted to send flames after him, make them roar along the ditch and engulf him but smothered the urge. She waited for him to get back out. As soon as he did, she fired a jet of flames at him. He ducked and rolled out of the way, drawing the channel of water from the edge of the arena into a wall to defend against her. His eyes were uncertain as he crouched behind it. He couldn’t move towards her, not with the streams of fire she was still throwing in his direction.

Luke stared in amazement. He didn’t expect her attack. A week ago, when he’d met her she hadn’t even known how to use her elemental power. Perhaps it was her venom that was causing him to look at her the way he was. He proceeded more cautiously, but as he summoned a flood of water to douse her flames, he didn’t propel it forwards or even keep it up as a shield. His bright eyes made the mistake of beseeching her again.

El wouldn’t let him interfere with her plans again. So what if he’d grown a conscience now? So what if he no longer had the stomach to fight? She needed to get through this match. Needed to win. There was more than just her ambition riding on the outcome of this match. She was doing this for her grandma. She was doing this for Dan and the Opposition.

As soon as his wall of water disappeared, El sent another burst of flame at him. His reaction wasn’t quick enough. He dropped to the floor. Her flames caught his clothes as he rolled into the ditch. With a cool jet of water, he saturated the fire that slithered along his arm and torso. Steam sizzled off the singed material and raw skin. With El’s direct hit, the klaxon sounded signalling the end of the match.

Adrenalin still pumped through them as they stared at one another across the wide arena. The fight was still visible from the tension within their bodies. El tried to savour her victory as she looked at how battered and wounded Luke was. He deserved this. This was for her mum. She watched him pick himself up, supporting his burnt arm across his chest as he limped out of the arena. She was convinced that she detected something beyond physical pain in his face. She felt a twinge of guilt. Would his father have empousa blood – was he of high enough rank? She shook the thought away. He didn’t deserve her pity.

Luke looked back and his emerald eyes caught hers. She was surprised to see that they were empty of malice. They were as clear and sincere as they had always been, but now there was a desolation in them. And despite everything, despite her anger that still festered, part of her wished that she could take it away.

- Chapter Twenty-Three -

Burning City

A ladon was waiting for her in arena four. As El transferred from one dome to the other, she saw that the crowd in the Gymnasium had grown significantly. Once again, curious eyes examined her and she was in no doubt that the Gymnasium’s popularity tonight was because of her.

The fight between her and the ladon didn’t last long. Earth manipulators had the severest handicap in the matches as the walls and floors were off limits and impervious to their power. The rock in the centre was the ladon’s only weapon. Although he made use of these, El successfully avoided his assaults. In frustration, the earth manipulator disintegrated the rocks and eventually had nothing to counter El’s fire with. When he was forced into sheltering in the trenches, the final klaxon sounded.

The final opponent that El had to knock out of the round was a harpy. The poor girl looked terrified as she entered and El gazed up to see that every one of the seats in the stadium was occupied. El enjoyed whipping up flames and letting the glass grow coal black, obscuring the audience’s view for a few seconds. The harpy managed to hold her own for a while, snuffing out El’s flame, but was too hesitant in her attacks. El could see the fear etched in her eyes and suspected the rumour about her full power stayed her hand. The harpy lost her nerve, took to the trench and ceased trying to land a hit at all.

El knew the crowd had swelled outside the arena but was unprepared for the sight that met her when she exited: the walkways above were teeming, the sheer volume of arete blocked the screen. She gawped as she recognised some of those gathered – they’d been in the Elysium too. Elite members of the Order had come down to the first arena – to watch her. She tried to still her thoughts and searched the crowd for Cam. She’d love to see a familiar face right now. With surprise, her eyes located the black-clad girl nearby, in the third row. El felt a jolt of fear as she recognised the person next to her: Dan. He was sitting beside her like it was completely normal for him to be here. A soft smile played in the corners of his lips that made El’s heart quicken. His warm eyes held her. Even as she enjoyed the sensation and his being here, her stomach tensed. He shouldn’t be here. He wasn’t safe. There were Order members who would recognise him; and now, thanks to all the rumours about her power, there were dozens of them present.

El quickly looked away to avoid drawing attention to him. She took a step or two back, peering up through the crowd in search of the screen.

A clear voice reverberated through the room. ‘Carras, drakon,’ Louisa announced, ‘versus Devereux, drakon – arena one.’

Surprise flitted across El’s face. For a split second she thought that she was going up against Louisa. A chill went through her as she recalled how quick the air manipulator was with her power. But the Carras she was going to be fighting was a drakon. She turned and descended into the pit.
As she stepped over to one side of the arena, a woman entered the dome. She was a little taller than El, her golden hair tied back in a ponytail emphasising her narrow face.

‘Devereux,’ the golden-haired woman said.

‘Carras.’

Carras continued to scrutinise her from head to toe as if she could grasp everything there was worth knowing about her from her appearance.

‘My advice,’ Carras said, ‘if you want people to go easy on you don’t go mouthing off about your traitorous connections.’

She’d clearly heard El’s argument with Luke earlier. El wondered what else Louisa had told her to make her look at her so spitefully. She thought too about the number of times she’d wished to have more family. She’d take all of it back now if she’d known that they would be answered in the guise of this unfriendly, distant cousin or whatever relation she was.

‘Don’t go easy on me,’ El answered, ‘and I won’t on you.’ She hoped that she looked more confident than she felt.

The spectators were leaning in. El tried to ignore their wide eyes, beginning to feel like she was in a goldfish bowl.

The girl’s eyes twinkled in the glowing flames of the central pit. ‘Better deliver, Devereux, because it’s burn or be burned.’

El could see it wasn’t an empty threat; an expectant look crossed Carras’ face, reminiscent of the ladon’s in the Elysium. The one he’d worn as he’d waited for confirmation of his opponent’s death. This arena may be a pale shadow of what played out on the top floor but there was a foreshadowing of what was to come. It didn’t take much to imagine Carras happily landing a deadly blow.

El tried to remind herself that she and Dan had practised all week in the arena, against one another. She’d had most practice at fighting another drakon. It wasn’t just about avoiding their attacks, it was about having confidence and dominating the shared element. El was going to have to turn Carras’ own flames against her.

A sharp announcement sounded in the dome. ‘Carras, drakon versus Devereux, drakon. Match commence.’

El swallowed the lump in her throat. The words brought another unwelcome reminder of the match in the Elysium. The announcement seemed to echo through her mind as it had around the final arena. This confined space, with the glowing hearth in the middle, contrasted starkly with the cold, open aired theatre above, but again the sense that the fight could end the same way beat through her.

Within a few seconds, Carras drew a ribbon of flame from the centre and lunged towards El, the fire streaking the air like a whip. El dropped to the floor and rolled sideways, straight into the trench. She flushed, aware of the onlookers. Focussing on the heat in the centre of the pit, she summoned the flames to her. As she jumped up and out, her own fiery weapon flared and rotated like a drill head towards her opponent. Carras drew a little of the flame into her own and it roared with greater power and heat back at El.

El tried to do the same but the flames changed and multiplied. Fronds of fire flew towards her, their heat wild and angry. She knew she had to banish her fear to dominate their shared element – to welcome it instead – but she couldn’t. Afraid, she was forced to roll backwards into the safety of the ditch again.

This time Carras laughed loudly. ‘Is that it, Devereux?’

A wave of embarrassment ricocheted through El, but as she looked across at the golden-haired girl, her sharp features took on a different aspect: wider, more angular. El imagined her opponent with raven-hair, supplanted with Louisa’s face and sneer.

El leapt back up onto the platform, imagining it was Louisa she was fighting. She felt the pain and anger infuse the power in her core, creating such immense heat that it couldn’t be contained. She thought of Louisa, thought of how defenceless her mum had been – blindfolded and bound – and how Louisa Carras had been the one to abruptly and mercilessly end her life.

Carras leapt forwards, a whirl of flames surrounding her being. Like a burning cannonball, she was coming at her. Keeping her cool, El managed to steal the fire away from Carras and turned it into a wall between them. In surprise, Carras only had the presence of mind to shield her face with her hands and arms as she met the fire and rolled through. Her scream rent the air and El extinguished the wall of flame.

The golden-haired woman fell to the floor. She battled the flames, which threaded through her hair and along the top of her head. El was quick to will the fire out.

‘Are you alright?’ El said, trying to see past the cloud of smoke that reeked of burnt hair.

‘Don't touch me,’ shouted Carras, jumping to her feet. El could see that one side of the woman’s face was red raw, the first formations of blisters rising along her cheek and a large bald patch evident on the top of her head. Along her arms – where she'd shielded herself from the fire – angrier splotches were appearing. El cringed. The klaxon signalled the end of the match, a blare that didn’t fill her with the relief she’d expected, but jolted her back into the moment. What had she done? Is this what success looked like? She watched Carras dart out the door, then exited shakily.

Louisa’s voice rang through the room. ‘Drakon, Devereux, victor.’

There was a round of applause. Everyone in the tiered seating stood as El exited the arena. She stared past in a daze as she watched the woman with the blistered arms and charred smelling skin push her way through the onlookers until she was swallowed by the crowd. There was a hubbub of excitement rushing through the spectators, their exclamations stirred by the match. Speculation of how El would fight tomorrow swept through the room.

She was staring after the woman, longing to take back what she’d just done. She felt like she was sinking in the crowd’s ceaseless babble. It was moving into her, through her and she was drowning.

Someone held her arm. She looked up and felt Dan’s warm gaze on her face. He stood so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek. She inhaled the hint of smoke that clung to his skin and hair. The fragrance of clean smoke, unpolluted by charred skin – smoke from the fire performance tonight, tinged with night air. She breathed in his scent, tasting the hint of coffee on his breath too, rich and deep. She felt like she had taken ambrosia, her mind stilled, wanting to taste everything that made up this man.

His lips pressed against hers and the desire to dismantle everything was stifled. The need to understand vanished. She understood him perfectly this way. The invisible fire within was all, and stoked her insides as his tongue explored her mouth. The feeling consumed her, triggering waves of heat to rise within. Dan’s hands twisted through her hair, running over her scalp. She felt like she was melting. Her arms coiled around his shoulders and neck.

His lips left hers but his arms still held her. She spotted Cam behind him, who was trying to tug him away. Once again, El remembered how dangerous it was for him to be here. She pushed him back towards Cam, her eyes telling him to go.

‘And I thought the last place I wanted to do that,’ he whispered, ‘wasn’t private enough.’

El smiled but pushed him away again towards Cam. He let go and hurried off in Cam’s wake. Once more El felt his glowing eyes before he was engulfed by the crowd. But it was enough. She felt lighter. Despite all the talk that was rising about her, she felt nameless. The name of Devereux receded into the distance, into a space that didn’t matter. The only thing that beat through her now was a prayer for Dan. He had to get out of here. Concern filled her that he’d be caught but, at the same time, a smile crept across her lips. He’d come for her. Despite the danger, he’d come to see her. With her whole being she hoped that the Order members were so focused on her, that he’d manage to steal out of the building and reach the safety of the night.

- Chapter Twenty-Four -

The Blessed Isle

El lay on the bed, staring out at the London skyline. The sun was setting, the last of its light washing the white dome of St Paul’s Cathedral. The pastel blues and pinks reminded her of Rococo paintings. With the lavish colours and light above the celestial dome, she could imagine cherubs lying on the cottony clouds.

As soon as the crowd had dispersed from the Gymnasium last night, El had been brought up here. The suite contained a bedroom, living room and bathroom. The set of rooms occupied almost half of the fortieth level, and the floor to ceiling windows presented a view of London on three sides.

The right-hand side looked out onto the Gherkin, Walkie-Talkie and other skyscrapers. Their formation was still irregular, scattered by the tower she was imprisoned in. This was the view from the bathroom; El hadn’t been able to stay long in the bath as the unfamiliar view unnerved her.

Deciding to get dressed, she eyed the plush designer clothes in the wardrobe briefly, before throwing on her outfit from yesterday. She took a seat in the living area and stared off across the river, tracing the shape of Southwark Cathedral. She estimated where the penthouse would be on the other bank and watched the point on the horizon, wondering if Alex was there, and Dan.

She roughly towel dried her hair as her thoughts began to cycle the same path they had all day. One moment she replayed her kiss with Dan, letting nothing but the pleasure and sensation of his lips fill her mind. At the next, she worried that he would be reckless and reappear tonight. The worry grew heavier. What if he hadn’t made it out last night? She imagined him in a dank, dark cell. Just like the one her grandma was likely in. The only assurance she had that he wasn’t, was that if he’d been caught Louisa would be sure to have tormented her with such news.

The typhon hadn’t come to see her at all, nor the Triad. Not that El was complaining. The only visitor she’d had was the arete guard who had escorted her up here last night. He’d brought her food: morning, noon and earlier this evening. She felt a pang of hunger. She’d only managed a bite of the croissant and jam for breakfast. The heady rush of flavours – sweet, juicy strawberries and buttery folds of pastry – had been overwhelming. She’d wanted to eat but the images the taste induced were all consuming. Unnerved, and feeling like she was losing her grip on reality, she’d left the rest.

She’d asked for food without ambrosia for lunch but her request had gone unanswered. Her dinner tray lay by the door, untouched as well. When she’d lifted the lid from the plate she’d been assaulted by an array of aromas. Beneath the complex seasoning, the overriding scent was of blood and fat, wafting up from the rare-cooked steak. It turned her stomach, evoking the charred flesh that she’d smelled last night in the Gymnasium. If she ever got out of this place there was a good chance she was turning veggie.

What she wouldn’t give for some plain bread. She’d already drained her pitcher of water that was thankfully devoid of ambrosia. She felt like she was in a gilded cage, separated from the real world and slowly being poisoned by the excess of everything.

She wondered how she’d last the weeks, or months even, in this confined space. She would have to start eating tomorrow but an empty stomach tonight was probably a good thing. Her stomach was twisted by nerves too as the second arena drew ever closer. El wondered if her match would draw the crowds again. Word of the Triad’s prediction could only have spread further so there was little doubt that the stadium would be packed. She contemplated the dark sweep of the Thames and watched as the lights from streetlamps and buildings filtered the gloom as night descended.

El started when the door opened. She’d lost track of time. Louisa came into the living room, her eyes finding her on the sofa despite the shadows.

‘Melancholy, are we?’ Louisa asked.

In truth, El hadn’t been aware of how dark it had grown, becoming lost in her thoughts the last few hours. She reached for her boots by the sofa and hastily laced them up. It wasn’t until they were in the corridor, where El caught sight of her reflection in a mirror, that she realised she hadn’t brushed her hair. She raked her fingers through it, trying to neaten it but stopped as Louisa smirked.

In the sleek, marbled corridor they entered the vast lift. The typhon pressed the button for the top floor. Despite El’s climbing heart rate, it wasn’t until the number sixty flew by on the display panel above the door that she spoke.

‘But–’

‘Didn’t I tell you?’ Louisa said. ‘The Triad thought it pertinent to speed things up. You’ve been granted the honour of bypassing the second arena and entering the Elysium tonight.’

El’s heart hammered like it meant to fight its way from her chest. One, two, breathe she told herself. This time as the arena opened out, deafening applause struck her. Louisa gave her a vial and waited, with sparkling eyes. Shakily, El tipped back the container and was barely able to swallow. Her mouth was suddenly dry and the empousa blood did nothing to help but felt claggy as she swallowed.

She walked out beside Louisa in a daze, unsure if her trembling was due to the shock of being in the Elysium or a reaction to the hundreds of eyes that flew over her. The tiers around the stadium were crowded with Order members. Every tingle, flurry of temperature, weighted gaze and quickening glance felt intrusive. She wondered if every eye was assessing her as she had the combatants in the Gymnasium. Her expression was frozen with fear. The dread mounted and her eyes sailed from the crowd to the central space.

Her voice seemed to catch in her throat and she coughed; the night air was dry. Even though it was summer, the air felt unnaturally hot and tropical. She felt the warmth flare over her skin, more so than any other sensation. There were more fire arete gathered within the tiers than any other.

The cold, grey stairs and platforms of yesterday’s arena were gone. Today there were sandy banks in the centre. Warm-coloured limestone pillars lay amidst the sand – some angled like ancient ruins buried beneath, others stood upright with pediments on top. Those standing had reliefs carved into the stone. She spied the relief of a chariot and horses on one.

In amongst the sand were tropical plants and flowers. They made her think of Tia and Adam’s place, as well as the penthouse in the evenings when the nymphs had grown trees. These plants and flowers weren’t particularly green though. They were all the same colour scheme: fluted and spikey orange, yellow and red flowers. Their petals were starting to open up. El looked about the tiers and observed that there were hesperides present who were tending to the flowers, their warm gazes nourishing them like the rays of the sun. The pool of water on the outside was more like a hot spring, the steam rising hazily.

Louisa gestured down into the arena and El descended the limestone staircase; each step was fuelling the dread in her and the inevitability of the impending fight. It wasn’t until she was at the bottom of the stairs that she craned her neck back and looked up. The giant glass snake was directly above her as if rearing up, ready to strike. She spied the Triad ensconced in its mouth.

She turned to examine the darkness in front of her. There were the sandy platforms ahead but gaps issued in between and, with her heightened senses, she scanned the murk below. She sensed the deep space, but it was dense and moved. It had been about a twenty metre drop into which the typhon had fallen last time, but now there was a shorter distance, below which a deep volume of water rested.

She looked up at the sand banks and pillars, decorated with colourful foliage. It was like the Roman amphitheatres she’d studied in pictures, which were flooded or stocked with exotic animals for gladiatorial shows, mimicking sea battles or hunts through the jungle. No doubt, the fire theme was on her account: the drakon that was foreseen to have the full power. They were marking what was to come. Through the central columns, she spied her opponent – a slim looking woman with dark, bobbed hair. The woman’s eyes confirmed what El had suspected when she’d found the deep water below. Her gaze bored into El like slivers of ice – a hydra.

Siren song rained down from above – the prelude to the match. The sound sent a shiver down El’s spine and cold seeped through her; it churned up all her fears. She shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t part of the plan. She imagined Cam waiting in the second arena below, ready to report back to the rebels with tonight’s results. It would be too late by then. El’s heart hammered. She was alone. No one was coming to help her. She would have to get through this fight by herself. She tried to imagine that this was the second arena but couldn’t pretend that the stakes weren’t higher. The certainty that either she or the woman opposite wouldn’t be coming out of the arena alive coursed through her.

The overseers’ voices resounded around the stadium. They were explaining their presence – to stabilise the structure and direct unwanted elements away from the audience. El tried to still her drumming heart as their flat words fell over her. The sound of her own name issuing through the arena penetrated her thoughts.

‘Devereux, drakon versus Pallis, hydra!’

The name of the hydra conjured to El’s mind an image of the goddess, Pallas Athena. Her opponent, Pallis may not be wearing the heavy armour and brandishing the spear the mighty maiden goddess wore, but her eyes were as lethal as any spearhead.

Suddenly, the shout of commencement rang through the stadium. The crowd thundered into life and El felt as if she was in the eye of a storm. She flung herself from the step and bounded onto a sandy bank, just as a wave of water crashed up behind her. She bolted up the mound and drew from the fire of the torches up above, willing the flame down and directing it at Pallis on the other side of the arena. Pallis jumped across to a sandy platform and rolled down the bank away from the flames chasing her.

El leapt onto an angled pillar, running up it, instinctively wishing to get as high as possible and away from the shadowy waters below. She turned her gaze to the woman, who was already vaulting up a column and gaining higher ground. El manipulated the fire near Pallis, setting the surrounding plants and flowers alight. Their bright fronds sizzled and blackened. Pallis’ eyes stole past El. Moisture was rising from the wet sand, rivulets rose skywards, amassing into a thick body of water. More was issuing up from the chasm. Now that the hydra was on higher ground, the water down below was in her line of sight.

El sprinted up the column and clambered onto the triangular pediment, on level with Pallis now, who was about three metres ahead of her. El willed the fire to rise from the burning foliage, from the torches up above and the flames flew towards them. She let them roll down towards the waves that were bearing closer. White foam frothed upon the watery peaks, veering towards her. The sound roared in her ears and she pushed all the flames into the waves, hoping the blanket of fire would devour them.

A second body of water rose from the depths and took El by surprise, pummelling her and breaking her contact with the fire. She could feel the warmth in her core dissipating. The fire was choked. The wave knocked El from her position and she slid down the pediment, trying to get a grip on the rock. The surface was smooth and she slipped further down the limestone. She spluttered, panic spurting through her as she thought of the depths below. Her fingers found a crevice.

She pulled herself up a little onto the slope. However, Pallis was standing on the tip of the pediment, her eyes pinned on her. This was it. El willed herself to look into her eyes. If she didn’t do it now, she was going to die. Thoughts of the pit below and of the deep waters took hold. She latched onto the hydra’ gaze, seeing their watery hue and chill. Take it, she willed herself. Take her power. El tried to imagine her energy like fire ripping through the serpent, wrapping itself around her power. Nothing happened.

Pallis’ gaze flicked down and El heard the waters begin to churn before their full fury rushed over her. They ripped her off the structure. The violent beat of El’s heart flooded her body. The night sky above broadened as she fell but its blackness ruptured. The whole sky was suddenly ablaze. A circle of fire bathed the dark. As she fell, El thought the sun had somehow broken through the night. She twisted and turned, the fiery sphere fading as the gloom swallowed her.

- Chapter Twenty-Five -

The Siege of the Olympia

El fell through velvet darkness, her heart drumming, knowing that when she struck the water it would shatter her body, and swallow her. It occurred to her that the hydra might repel the water away and she would meet the marble floor instead. As she met the water, expecting it at once to break her and drag her down, she was surprised to find herself still breathing. She heaved in a great lungful of air and her limbs, unharmed, moved frantically, buoying her up.

With every second that passed, she expected the liquid to engulf her but it didn’t. It was some time before she realised that the water level was rising and, instead of consuming her, it was holding her. It was bringing her back up. She coughed and spluttered as the cradling wave pitched her out from the chasm and onto the sandy bank of the arena. She crawled up the verge.

The cool tingle across El’s cheek was so familiar that, even before she caught sight of him, she knew he was there. She looked up at Luke, who was pulling her up. She blinked, bleary-eyed. Dan stood there too and took hold of her other arm. They stumbled along, sheltering on the left-hand side of the limestone staircase.

They set her down. All of them crouched. El’s mind finally caught up with what had happened and realised the fiery blaze that she’d first thought was the sun, had been the shuttered eye. Dan and the other rebels had entered the arena and sent the symbol up.

‘How did you know I was here?’ El asked. Her voice was strained and she closed her eyes, still catching her breath.

Luke’s cool gaze tingled against her cheek again. ‘I overheard my father talking to Order members last night, after the Gymnasium. They said that the Triad’s premonition had drawn a lot more Order members here than ever before. The Triad, thinking of the security, had called your final match forward. When I heard, I went to Alex.’

Despite Luke’s words, and how he’d clearly been the one to save her from the abyss below, Dan glowered at him.

El had been too shell-shocked to notice before but now heard the crashes above them: the Opposition was fighting the Order. Ladon on both sides, unable to alter the composition of the impervious building, took the offensive. The pillars in the middle, intended for competitors, were clean of empousa blood. On both sides, earth manipulators were demolishing them and hurling hunks of stone. Thuds echoed through the arena like an earthquake. The sandstorm raging above obscured the fighting, making the screaming and shouting eerier as though disembodied beings were warring in the sky.

‘I’ve got to help,’ Dan said.

El nodded.

‘Rest,’ he said, squeezing her hand. ‘Stay here.’ He narrowed his eyes at Luke before he bolted up the stairs to the stadium above.

Her gaze roved Luke. A purplish bruise tinged his cheek and jaw. She wondered if she’d caused it during their fight in the Gymnasium or had he attained it when he’d showed up to see Alex and Dan? Perhaps he’d been hurt saving her from the hydra’s clutches now.

‘Pallis…’ she said, panic seized her, her eyes darting around. Was her opponent lurking somewhere? She envisaged her rising in a coil of waves from the deep.

Luke laid a hand on her arm. ‘Shhh, it’s okay. She joined the fighting up there.’

El breathed a sigh of relief, her heart slowing as shock receded. She hugged her arms across her chest, trying to rid herself of the feeling of falling. She looked at Luke and felt a surge of guilt that he was here for her – had saved her – even after the way she’d treated him last night.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

His bright eyes flitted over her and he nodded.

She remembered how crushed he’d looked in the Gymnasium when he’d heard what the Order had done. He looked surer now. Alert. He was assessing one side of the tiered stadium above.

She shuddered as a body fell down from the left, impacting a column in the arena. The distinctive sound of bone shattering tore through the space. Luke was restless, his eyes roaming the stadium above and behind her.

‘Go,’ she said. ‘I’m fine.’

He fixed her with his gaze but nodded and bolted up the stairs, going left at the top.

Feeling steadier, she let her senses travel again. The grim formations of arete were amassed on either side of the tiered ring. Torrents of wind whistled through the bare, metal frames, picking up arete on either side. El cringed as she sensed an arete being swept into the sky, his arms wrenched from their sockets and his body – like debris – being thrown into the frame, before falling lifeless to the ground.

El took a deep breath and readied herself. She bolted up the stairs and threw herself leftwards into the ranks of the Opposition. Through the grainy particles of sand, El caught sight of an arete on the other side, wearing clothes imbued with layered kerykeion; the changing colours of the garment drew the eye like a beacon. El shot a spurt of fire across the arena, willing the flames to tear along the woman’s gown as if adding a golden weave to the fabric. A shot of fire twisted towards El, but a torrent of water engulfed it. She glanced to her right – it was Luke, still watching her back.

With a jolt of shock El recognised a familiar woman through a cloud of sand; Louisa was heading into the elevator, on the outskirts of the fighting. El threw a burst of fire towards her, but it was snuffed out before it even reached the lift. Louisa’s look and smile were sharp as the doors closed.

El’s eyes tore through the arete surrounding her, past swirling elements, past bodies tensed in fighting, searching for Dan. She saw him in the middle of the Opposition, ducking and returning enemy fire, pushing the Opposition on. She squeezed along the tier, crouching and threading her way through. She sheltered next to him as a bout of fire streamed past.

‘Louisa’s got out,’ she shouted. He seemed not to hear her. ‘Louisa’s gone.’

He drew her down and they hid behind another rebel. Dan’s dark eyes held her.

‘We’ll be through soon. Once the Triad are defeated, we’ll go.’ His eyes shone with reflecting flame, but the fervour and determination burning in them seemed to outmatch all the energy that was flying around them.

El hurried back through to the end of the tier, towards the elevator. She drew a shield of flame up as she ran and ducked into the lift, half expecting Dan to be behind her. It was Luke that ran after her though. As the elevator doors closed, she could see Dan’s streams of flame pushing forward against the Order, wholly consumed by the battle that raged on.

- Chapter Twenty-Six -

Reunions

In a panic, El rushed out of the lift and into the lobby. They’d already checked the basement level. It was empty. El dashed over to the human woman who was still at the desk. Her fixed smile seemed out of place after the fighting above and the dark cells below. El had been immediately haunted by memories of the catacombs when she’d peered into the prison cells to check for her grandma.

It was the same human who had been at the desk last night. El’s eyes filled with heat as she stared at her. ‘Have you seen an elderly woman, with dark glasses?’

The woman’s pupils dilated, but her tone was mechanical sounding. ‘Yes, Miss Carras instructed me to inform you that she and her sister will see you at the manor.’

El stared at the woman’s artificial smile that followed this statement, the same that followed all of her statements. Louisa had known that she would compel this woman. She’d left this message for her. She wanted El to come after them. El gasped and turned away. Before, Louisa could only wound her by making her watch her mum’s execution but now that El and the rebels had attacked the Order there’d be no pardon. El was fair game, just like her grandma. And Louisa had taken Helena because she still wanted them both. She wanted to draw El away from the safety of the rebels.

It was reckless to follow but El marched out of the building and down the path. She stopped at the end, momentarily at a loss. Luke pointed to his car at the other side of the road and they hurried across. She was soon climbing into the hatchback she’d been in once before. The quiet washed over her, a weight settling in her core as dread filled her. Luke didn’t say anything but started the engine. The car’s reverberation seemed to flood her ears but El quickly realised it was her heart’s thunderous rhythm drowning out everything else.

She wondered how Louisa would get to the manor but then, all too clearly, imagined her clutching her grandma and rising into the air, manipulating the air currents as she soared above. Like a bird, a vulture, ready to swoop down and devour the rest of El’s life.

It was late and it didn’t take long to get out of the city. They hurtled along the motorway, eastwards.

‘How do you know where to go?’ she asked.

‘I don’t exactly, but the Order has a file on you. I found it in my father’s stuff – so I know your place is near Colchester. Let me know when to take the exit.’

El nodded, frowning at this intrusion of privacy. Then again, she supposed there was no such thing as privacy, not with the All-Seeing Eye.

She kept picturing the manor, its driveway of beech trees, its angular walls as she’d seen it the last night she’d been there – when she’d been forced to run. It had already been tainted with Louisa’s presence. Like a wolf she’d chased El, circled her and was now drawing in for the kill.

El tried to remember home as it had once been. Its lawns sloping towards the great walls, the ivy tracing the masonry of the front. It was always growing unwieldy, encroaching on the view from the windows, often having to be cut back. The curling red vines seemed to fasten the building like ropes to the earth, to the same ground it had occupied for centuries. Now it seemed polluted, even in memory. The curling red leaves seemed to climb up from the earth across the bricks like arteries of blood.

The countryside began to open out around them. Beech and fir trees started to rise along the verges; flat farmland flanked the motorway on either side. The trees passed by so quickly that their twisted branches seemed to be clawing through the night.

‘Take the next right, the signs to Colchester,’ she said.

Her stomach lurched as the car pulled away from the motorway. A wave of nausea rose as she pictured facing Louisa again. She swallowed down the rising bile as tears veiled her vision.

‘Are you okay?’ Luke asked.

She shook her head. He pulled over into a layby and El stumbled out onto the bank. She let the wave of sickness out. It was only bile as there was nothing in her stomach. She felt like telling him they shouldn’t have stopped, that they should get there as soon as possible, but the sickness took control, overriding her fear. As she crouched down on the moss Luke gave her a tissue.

She thought about how they’d first met. How he’d marched her into the meadow to shout at her and then softened, out of regard for Alex she’d thought, but really to get information on the rebels. As she saw his earnest look, a tremor of apprehension passed through her. He’d worn the same look in the meadow, not because he cared, but because he wanted to find out about the Opposition. Even after his help in the arena, saving her from the abyss, she couldn’t shake her distrust.

‘Why are you here?’ she said. Her voice sounded dull in her own ears as though the damp earth beneath her was creeping up and muddying her voice. She felt washed out and sensed that everything was drawing to a close. He must know that it was pointless following her. They couldn’t hope to save her grandma. She wanted to know what had possessed Luke to come with her. He must know this was a lost cause.

His gaze tingled across her face. He crouched down in front of her. ‘I know you can’t forgive me for what I did.’ His eyes were downcast. ‘And you shouldn’t.’ There was bitterness in his voice.

She laid her hand on his. His eyes flashed with pain. ‘When I helped you at first it was to find out about the rebels but, I swear, I’d never have taken you to that meeting if I’d known what the Order really was.’

He swept his hands through his hair; the movement reminded her of Alex and set her a little more at ease. ‘What you said last night shook me,’ he said. ‘I started looking for answers myself. I got in touch with my mum’s side of the family. We lost contact with them after she died. I asked them about her and about the Order.’ His eyes dimmed and he looked away. ‘Her death wasn’t the clear-cut picture my father made me believe. My mum was fighting – for the Opposition. She was killed by the Order.’

El knew the anger cloaking his face was what he felt towards his father, the lies that had shaped and distorted his world. Wordlessly, El got up and reached out to him. His emerald eyes stared at her, their coolness cast over her like the shade of a tree in the warm summer air. He clasped her hand and stood up. She felt relieved that he was here. He understood what it was like to be kept in the dark by those closest to you.

‘The rumour about your power–’ he said.

She shook her head. She wouldn’t give him false hope that they weren’t walking into a trap. She had no more power than he did. She had looked into that hydra’s eyes in the Elysium and seen her own death reflected back and still nothing had come.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I know you must have tried to summon it … but what I mean is … you’ve inherited the power from your grandma.’

El frowned. Her grandma was blind. She couldn’t help them.

Luke pulled a couple of vials from his pocket. ‘When I went to warn Alex yesterday about your match, he healed my arm with a few drops of this…’

El blushed, thinking of how she’d wounded Luke in the Gymnasium and was about to apologise but Luke hurried on,

‘He told me and Dan that if we got to your grandma to give her this.’

El stared at the containers. Alex was right. If they could get it to her grandma, her damaged eyes would repair themselves. Her sight and power would be restored. Her grandma could help them. Luke smiled and El felt the faintest glimmer of hope kindling. It wasn’t over yet.

They made their way back to the car. Within half an hour they were threading their way along the final road. At the end of the driveway, the stone house was thrown into sharp relief as the floodlights came on. El was right. The place was altered. The walls and eaves – always solid and reassuring – now looked menacing as if the woman inside had corrupted them.

- Chapter Twenty-Seven -

The Storm

El darted into the house, past the heavy wooden door that lay on the floor and allowed her senses to search for a moment; the soft sound of breathing and other minute movements issued from the living room. She forced herself to stop and think. She went to the armoire and opened it, withdrawing a jet lighter. She clicked the switch on, watching as the lighted flared with three, blue flames. She slipped it into her back pocket, sensing she may need it soon.

El walked past the broken furniture and ceramics scattered in the hallway and pushed open the living room door. Her grandma was sitting on the chaise longue and Louisa stood at the window.

‘El – welcome home,’ Louisa said. Her voice lowered when Luke came into the room, past El. ‘This is a family gathering, I didn't say plus ones.’

El pre-empted her and, withdrawing her lighter, flicked the switch and manipulated the blue flame into a trail that blazed towards Louisa. The typhon rolled out of the way of the fire, which caught the curtains. Louisa snuffed out the fire by altering the air. She coughed and ostentatiously swept the smoke away.

‘Fine,’ Louisa said. ‘You may stay, Mr Laukas, but your father will be … disappointed.’

Luke clenched his fists and Louisa smiled.

‘What do you want?’ El said.

‘Have you forgotten our heart to heart, little gorgon? I thought I made myself perfectly clear. I want to see my sister’s line extinguished.’ Her gaze shot to Helena and back. ‘And here you are – delivering yourself. I should thank you for being so cooperative. Then again, getting the Triad to be interested in your power was most … inconvenient. I hope you know that by aligning with the rebels tonight, any protection you previously enjoyed from the Triad, is gone.’ Her eyes glinted.

El realised that her grandma wasn’t just sitting still but was tensed. Her fingers were curled, her nails biting into the skin of her palms. Pain sharpened her features and there were tear tracts down her cheeks.

‘What have you done?’ El asked, rushing to her grandma. She felt her clammy skin and wiped her forehead.

‘It’s alright,’ Helena murmured through clenched teeth.

Louisa walked over and trailed her finger down her sister’s arm. ‘More?’

Helena’s chin fell to her chest as if she was going to be sick.

‘Too bad,’ Louisa said. She wrenched Helena’s mouth open and tipped a drop from a vial into her mouth.

Helena moaned, her grip tightening on El’s hand.

‘Grandma.’

‘I thought you might like to see the show this time,’ Louisa said.

With her free hand, El pulled the sunglasses from her grandma’s face. There was the laced pattern of scar tissue around her eye sockets but now, where they’d been empty, there were translucent orbs. As they whitened they seemed to move in the dark recesses, while the scar tissue grew redder and more inflamed, as if they were recent wounds.

‘An imperfect screening,’ Louisa said, ‘but better than nothing.’

El lunged at the typhon but she caught her wrists.

‘It’s only a game,’ Louisa said. ‘After your grandma tried to leave the Order and tore out her eyes, they locked her up, hoping to talk her round.’ Disdain deepened the faint lines on her face and for the first time there was a visible similarity between the two women. Her voice shook with anger. ‘You were gifted! But turned your back on it.’ Her eyes swung from Helena back to El. ‘So every time she cut her eyes out I brought them back. Drop by drop.’

Luke was beside Helena, a vial pressed to her lips before anyone realised. The transparent quality of Helena’s eyes altered quickly, the iris and pupils started to swell like blots of ink. The scar tissue began to fade and became smooth and unblemished. In spite of herself, El smiled at her grandma. How many times had she imagined looking into her eyes? Tears pooled in her own as she watched the miraculous transformation.

Louisa still had hold of her wrists. El remembered how quick she was at manipulating the air into dangerous currents. The horrible memory of being thrown across the catacombs replayed in her mind, the deadly air rushing through the space to snap her mum’s neck. Unexpectedly, Louisa let go. El backed away.

Helena stood up. El caught sight of her eyes, hazel like Louisa’s. Warm-hued but cold like her mum’s had been. A hydra’s eyes.

‘I’m sorry,’ Helena said. ‘Please, Louisa. I was a child. I was raised to see my power as the only precious thing.’

Louisa scowled but tried to suppress it.

Helena moved towards her sister, her face gentle. El’s heart thudded. What was her grandma doing?

Louisa’s face flushed with fury, but she backed up into the bay window. ‘How dare you speak of it.’

Helena looked crestfallen and didn’t attempt to move. ‘I’m sorry, Louisa. Truly sorry. What happened to Maria–’

‘Don’t say her name!’ Louisa shouted. Her hatred towards Helena seemed to outstrip the fear of her restored power. ‘You did it. You killed her! It’s only fair I do the same.’

Her eyes snaked to El, who was moving back, positioning herself tactically, as was Luke.

Helena simply stood still, gazing at Louisa as though there was nothing she could do but talk her out of her anger. El had to act now. She recognised the hardness in Louisa’s square shoulders, her muscles tensing as she prepared to strike. El flicked the lighter and conjured a wall of flame, thankful that even after seeing her in the arenas, the typhon underestimated her. The curved wall of fire roared into life, its flame catching Louisa by surprise as she fell back, fighting the blaze that had caught her arm. Luke wrenched Helena away.

They were all shielded by the burning screen that ran across the living room. El fuelled it further, allowing the books on the table and the couches to combust. She willed the flames higher and, released from their harness, they roared in a way that was both terrifying and thrilling. She backed out, following the others, leaving the typhon trapped behind the raging furnace.

In the hall, El concentrated on the fire behind and knew Louisa was changing the air to subdue it. There wasn’t much time. She’d soon be out. They hurried to the car. Helena was the last to pull the door shut in the back. As she did Luke slammed his foot on the accelerator.

Speeding down the drive, El fought with her entire will, straining her senses to track whether Louisa was through the fire yet. El prayed that the paintings, fabrics and furniture would feed it long enough for them to escape.

El's senses snapped back to the car. ‘She’s out!’

Luke answered by sending the car into the next gear and accelerating.

‘I’m sorry,’ Helena said. Her voice was growing hysterical. ‘I’m so sorry…’

El stared at her grandma. Her eyes were completely healed, a shade of hazel similar to Louisa’s. El could feel the sting of cold from them.

‘It’s okay, Grandma,’ she said. ‘You’ll do it next time. You’ll do it soon.’ El assumed that her grandma was apologising for her failure to attack Louisa, but Helena shook her head.

‘No, El,’ Helena said. ‘I can’t.’

El fixed her gaze on her grandma. Her voice was steady and solemn as she urged her. ‘When Louisa comes, you have to, Grandma.’

Helena had started to wring her hands and tears welled in her eyes. El searched the back window for any sign of the typhon.

‘Focus,’ El said again, trying to sound firm, wishing that she had her mum’s level-headedness. She’d thought her grandma would take care of them, that she’d look Louisa in the eye and that would be the end of this. ‘Try to use your power, Grandma. We’re going to need it’

Helena caught El’s eye. ‘I can’t. You don’t know what you’re asking. It’s why she’ll never forgive me.’

El hadn’t wanted to talk about how her grandma had killed for the Order, how she’d used the full power on hundreds of arete, but what was she saying now? A cold feeling crept through her as she recalled Louisa’s rage and hatred at Helena. You killed her.

Through tears, Helena looked at El. ‘I killed her. Maria, our sister. We were girls. I didn’t mean to but Louisa saw it happen.’

El gulped.
She remembered the stories of Perseus, unintentionally turning his eyes on his wife Andromeda or his son or daughter, not knowing he bore Medusa’s power and murdering the ones he loved. El wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault, that whatever had happened when she was young was an accident, but there wasn’t time. This wasn’t helping. They could talk about this later. They needed to focus on getting away. Once they were away from here they could get more graeae blood. Alex would see to it. They could disappear.

El’s scream cut the taut silence when she caught sight of the dark figure streaking through the sky. The next moment she was flying too. She was rising into the air. For a second, she thought Louisa had hold of her, but she kept tumbling as the car flipped and rolled. As it rocked to a halt, a dull pain broke out in her chest. She opened her eyes and saw that she was lying on the ceiling of the car. Louisa had thrown the entire vehicle.

‘El,’ Helena whispered from the back seat.

El raised herself and looked ahead. She could see Luke suspended in the seat next to her, his seatbelt still holding him. His head and arms hung still and he didn't respond as she called to him. He was breathing though. Her anxiety ebbed a little.

‘It's alright,’ El said. As she said it, she knew things were far from alright. She felt her grandma stirring behind her. She had to concentrate, knowing that the car crash was a minor issue compared to the one that was coming. El could still see Louisa in her mind's eye: floating through the air, gaining on them, the air bringing her closer. Her raven hair streamed behind her like a witch, without the need of a broom.

El had spent so much energy conjuring the wall of fire earlier that she felt weak. The crash had stunned her too and a dull pain issued through her body. She felt the air growing thinner, her breathing becoming shallow and her grandma’s voice sounded distant.

‘Louisa, please. Just leave her. You don't have to–’

Even in this trancelike state, a thrum of fear ran through El.

‘But I do,’ Louisa said.

El hovered on the edge of consciousness and managed to latch onto Louisa’s movements. The typhon had pulled Helena from the car.

One corner of Louisa’s lips curled like a scythe. ‘For you to suffer, she has to die.’

El tried to shout but all she could do was rasp and gulp at the air. Helena’s hands touched the neck of her blouse. El willed her grandma to do it – to look at Louisa. She’d done it before. She could do it again. Louisa had cut off the air around Helena completely now and, as Helena grasped at her own throat, a guttural sound escaped her lips.

‘The great Helena defeated,’ Louisa whispered, crouching down to watch Helena’s reddening face. ‘How the mighty have fallen.’

El tried again to call out to her grandma but her breathing almost failed. Her eyes were heavy and she couldn’t keep them open. She could still sense what was going on outside the car. Her grandma’s larynx was convulsing while Louisa watched with satisfaction.

El struggled to open her eyes. If she could only see Louisa. She could picture her sharp eyes, but as she opened her own, all she could see from her viewpoint on the car roof was her grandma’s knees and Louisa's boots at the window. She crawled to the passenger door, her hand on the latch. It clicked and she pulled herself up, heaving herself out through the door.

Clear air penetrated her lungs. Still gasping, she pushed herself onto her knees, wanting nothing more than to look her enemy in the eye. If her grandma wouldn’t do it, she would. For the first time, she truly wanted to kill. It was as if the fire in her had left a black cloud of smoke and it was consuming her, billowing up into her gaze, hungry and insistent. Louisa noticed her movement. The typhon didn't stop her manipulation of the air around Helena though. Helena’s face was tinged with blue, her eyes wide and bloodshot.

‘Do it,’ El said. She didn’t know if she was speaking to her grandma or to herself.

El's gaze flew to Louisa's again and she willed herself to take her life, to absorb it, to stop what was happening. El stared into her eyes, trying to grasp her life, searching their depths for that spark. Helena’s ragged breath gave out; her hands fell from her throat, her arms and head went limp before she pitched sideways. The silence was absolute.

El felt the cool moisture spreading over her back as she collapsed into the dewy grass. She heard Louisa speak to Helena as she stooped over her.

‘You can find peace now, Maria.’

The typhon trod towards El. ‘Seems the Triad was wrong. You don’t have it.’

El stared up at the night sky, unfocused; her senses were fixed on her grandma’s lifeless body that lay a few metres away. Her eyes filled with tears. Her grandma hadn’t saved her, and she didn’t have the full power after all.

The realisation washed away the last of her energy and she closed her eyes. She wondered what to expect. A sudden rush, a crack and then nothing – like her mum’s death – or would the end come slowly? Would it be like her grandma’s? Ironically, she held her breath as she waited for whatever Louisa was about to do.

It was the cool flurry around her that was unexpected. Her eyes snapped open to see what was happening: a massive volume of water was growing around her. A blurred frame was visible through the torrent. At first she thought it was Louisa, but then Luke rolled through. A protective dome shimmered around them. Luke eye’s stole over her. His gaze darted back up to hold the water in place.

‘Are you hurt?’ he asked.

She shook her head. She could tell he was drawing up all the moisture around them as the ground grew dry and dusty beneath her. She got up.

‘Have you got it,’ he shouted.

She blinked confusedly and then remembered the jet lighter, groping in her back pocket, her fingers curling round it thankfully.

She ignited the lighter, coaxing a ball of flame into existence.

Luke peeled back a little of the water and El fired the glowing orb out from the dome. She didn’t find her mark, but instead the grasses nearby started to burn. A gale roared outside the watery wall, trying to siphon the moisture away. El continued to shoot streams of fire through the spaces that appeared like windows in their barricade. Each time Louisa’s focus was diverted by El’s fire, the whirlwind’s force lessened. Despite their strategy, the water was dwindling, it wouldn’t keep Louisa out for long.

There was a glimmer of light nearby, not thrown by the flames which continued to eat their way through the grasses; but these beams were colder and paler: headlights. At the same moment the wind died down outside. Luke no longer had to add to the wall to maintain the dome. El locked eyes with him and the watery chamber dissolved. They were still alert as they looked up into the black sky, blotched with patches of stars. The source of the light was a cluster of cars up on the driveway. Dan and Alex were running down the bank, past the upturned car. There were more people stood on the driveway. Opposition members. They had brought reinforcements with them. Louisa must have retreated when she sensed them arriving.

El went to her grandma. Her brown hair was fanned out beneath her head. In the dim light, it was almost black. Her olive complexion was washed out, making her face look even smoother and younger. She looked at her eyes and the clear skin around them. No scars, no lines. She almost missed the interlacing marks, where papery-thin skin crisscrossed the rough texture. Remembering those scars, there were newer images attached to them. Her grandma gouging her eyes out, only to have Louisa grow them back nerve by nerve. Not once, but perhaps dozens of times. El closed her grandma’s eyes and tried to trace the woman she knew and loved in the face before her.

She wished her grandma had her black glasses on. The wounds weren’t the thing she’d been intent on concealing with them but her eyes in general. Her power. She’d used those glasses to leave that aspect of her life behind. El searched the grass for them but remembered they were back at the house, where only empty rooms awaited her.

A deep crevasse opened in her. She clutched at her grandma but, at the cold touch of her skin, let go. El’s forehead dropped to the earth and she balled herself up on the damp ground, beginning to sob. It was Alex who pulled her up, whose chest she buried into. She felt his breath catching irregularly too, his own grief pouring out. They were crying for both her grandma and mum.

El didn’t know if it was a few minutes or hours that had passed but, when she finally unfurled herself from Alex, she knew that he’d see that her grandma got safely to the house. She walked past his car. Dan’s was gone. As were the other vehicles. They must have gone up to the house already. She wanted to walk. In a stupor, she started back up the drive. To think that she’d chosen this walk only a week ago in order to delay seeing her grandma. Her chest felt hollow. She tried to still her thoughts, to fool her mind into believing it was a night like any other, that she was simply returning from Cobbold House.

Up ahead the silhouette of a figure beneath the branches and trees startled her back into the moment. She froze. Had Louisa come back to finish what she started? Her gaze travelled the rest of the gloomy drive and she realised that there were arete standing all the way along it. Opposition members: standing guard. She shook her head, feeling both relieved and annoyed that they were here. She was grateful that they’d come when they did but couldn’t she have one moment alone to grieve? She strode up the path, desperate to reach the privacy of the manor.

- Chapter Twenty-Eight -

Hindsight

When she reached the house, El was relieved to find that it hadn’t been lost to the flames. The damage was contained to the living room. Louisa must have extinguished the fire completely or Dan and Luke had on returning. El sought refuge in her bedroom upstairs. The sharpness of loss drove through her and she wanted to give into it but couldn’t. There were Opposition members surrounding the house and that could only mean one thing. They were still in danger. El allowed herself the luxury of changing her clothes – the first time in a week that she’d worn her own – before hastening back downstairs to find out what was going on.

When she came into the kitchen, Alex’s eyes were full of concern. She’d expected to find him, Dan and Luke, perhaps some other Opposition members, but was unprepared for who else sat at the table, behind a steaming cup. His broad features looked blurred through the vapour wafting up before him. It was Janos, the male graeae – the one present in the catacombs, who had passed the initial sentence of exsanguination on her. The one who had decreed her mum’s execution.

El stared in horror. He was sitting at the rough, oak table in the farm-like kitchen. A place familiar and comfortable to her, where countless meals with her grandparents had been taken. It felt like a desecration.

‘It’s alright,’ Dan said, laying a hand on El’s shoulder as he got up. A wave of heat rose in her, responding to his touch. ‘Janos is with us. Has been all along. The rest of the Triad is dead. He’s here to explain everything.’

The long benches in the kitchen had always seemed silly with so few people ever coming to visit. They had only served to highlight how bereft of family El was. Especially when it was only her grandma and her. Now, at the sight of Alex and the graeae on one side, and Luke opposite, it seemed just as well that there were a couple of chairs at either end too. She sat down in the chair furthest from the graeae, while Dan opted for the chair at the other end.

El tucked her feet up on the seat, keen to get them off the cold, stone floor.

‘We don’t need to talk about anything else tonight if you don’t want to,’ Alex said.

Janos disagreed. ‘It’s important that you hear everything as soon as possible.’

Her eyes were on Janos. ‘Tell me.’

He nodded curtly. ‘I was working with your mother from within the Order. For six years, she obtained graeae blood from me and we were able to circumvent the Order’s designs, most of the time.’

‘Why didn’t you warn her?’ she said. ‘You let Louisa and the others execute her. I saw it.’ Her eyes leapt to the others, trying to make them see that he was an imposter.

‘Anna knew that after Louisa had discovered her connection to your grandma and, forgive me for saying, but with you already in the Order’s custody, there was no chance of her own survival,’ he said.

El smarted, her cheeks burning. Janos’ words rang true, too close to the angry words Dan had spoken the night her mum had died. She felt that she would break with the pain searing through her – a contortion of anger and guilt that she pitted against herself.

With surprise, she felt Luke’s hand on hers. He squeezed it and she remembered that he understood the shame in making the wrong decision, the grit needed to admit it and to take a different path. She nodded to the graeae to go on.

‘That night, I followed Anna’s instruction. I lied for her, claiming that I foresaw you with the full power. It was the only way to keep you alive, but it also allowed the Opposition to get the weapon we’d been seeking for years: empousa blood – smuggled out in your veins.’

El shook her head, piecing it all together with a clarity that hurt. Her mother had saved her – but only to use her as a weapon in the grand plan to destroy the Order. The knowledge beat through her; with each blow of understanding she knew it didn’t really matter what Anna had done. Her mum was gone.

A lump rose in her throat. What mattered was that Dan had known. On the night of Anna’s death, he’d immediately talked of infiltrating the London Olympia. His words from that night in the lab came back to her: you’ve lost a lot of blood, don’t move. The day after, he’d simply said that the empousa blood was a weapon that Anna had procured. He’d failed to say that El had been the one whom she’d procured it from.

Yet again she’d been betrayed. She couldn’t help it: tears welled in her eyes. She got up and left the room.

In the library, El stood by the empty fireplace. After spending the last week in the flat in London, she had forgotten how cold the manor house got. With no one here, the fires hadn’t been lit and the place was damp. There was an undertone of rot; mould had crept into the corners of the rooms and along the stone hearth. However, the overriding fragrance to pervade the house was one of smoke and ash. El wrapped her arms around herself. She kept looking at the bare grate. Why had no one thought to light the fires? Couldn’t they feel the cold? Couldn’t they smell the decay?

She was ready to tell whoever was at the door to leave her alone but felt winded as Dan came in. She wanted to shout at him but her expression crumpled. She turned her back. Just a few hours ago she’d been so relieved to see him. To see him and the rebels miraculously entering the Elysium to save her. Luke had said that he’d been the informant to save her life tonight, but the rebels hadn’t needed his information. They had known all along when they’d needed to turn up. Another stab of pain shot through her.

How far did Dan’s betrayal go? Attacking the Order at the catacombs was to secure the empousa blood in her veins: that’s why the Opposition had rescued her. He’d let her go on believing that the Triad’s prediction of the full power was true too, despite the nightmares about the future that had plagued her. He’d trained her to compete in the arenas, knowing the full power wouldn’t save her if she got into danger. Still he’d sent her there and kept the true plan from her.

‘If it makes any difference,’ Dan said from his position at the window, ‘before your mum went to the catacombs, she made me promise not to tell you.’

El gasped. It was meant to make her feel better that her mum was a cold callous liar too?

‘And I suppose kissing me was part of your master plan?’ she said. ‘Easier to get me to do whatever you want if I care about you.’

‘That was unforeseen.’

‘Don’t get all graeae on me.’

He came over to stand before her. ‘I wanted to tell you but I’d sworn to Anna I wouldn’t. I knew how precarious the plan was. The Opposition needed you on board. You were the plan. We needed the rumours about your full power to circulate, to draw the highest-ranking members of the Order to the London Olympia.’

She stared at him, his words hardening her heart. As usual he was explaining his actions in a logical way but giving her nothing of his feelings. First, they’d smuggled the empousa blood out – in her – and then extracted it without telling her. They’d put her into the Olympia to draw the crowds with a false rumour about her power. She’d been a mule and bait – that was all.

‘I could have died in the Elysium–’

‘I never meant for you to be there tonight,’ he said. ‘What I told you – to take your time getting through arenas one and two I meant. You were only ever supposed to compete in them. Even if you’d got through the Asphodel this weekend, we were always going to attack the final arena next weekend. We’d have been there for the beginning of your match and you’d never have been in danger. Janos was going to ensure that he and the others were present then. That part was never on you.’ He frowned. ‘But the rumour of your full power worked a little too well. The other graeae were spooked by the influx of arete on the first night, and when they insisted on bringing your final match forward, there was nothing Janos could do. We got there tonight as soon as we could.’

El felt a pang of disgust. To think of all the things she’d been willing to do to help the Opposition get into the Olympia. She’d wounded Luke, burned Carras’ face and even tried to kill Pallis tonight. The Opposition … no, Dan had put her in these situations.

‘I could have died tonight, trying to kill Louisa with my “full power”,’ she said. ‘My grandma died while I was trying to summon a power I didn’t have. Did you ever think of that? Did you care about the danger you put me in?’

‘I did,’ he said. ‘But I knew how much you hated the idea of using it. Besides, I didn’t expect you to go running after Louisa yourself.’

Anger flashed across El’s face. She couldn’t believe he was reproaching her for that. ‘That’s what you do when you love someone!’

He came closer, drawing to the mantelpiece. ‘I know,’ he said gently. ‘That’s what your mum said.’

El narrowed her eyes. ‘I don’t want to hear about her.’

‘Whatever Anna did, however much you hate her right now because of what you’ve found out, she still sacrificed herself for you.’ His eyes glowed fiercely. ‘When she left me with her instructions that night, I didn’t want her to go. I didn’t want her to save you.’

Tears stung El’s eyes. She didn’t think that he could cut her more than he already had but he’d found a way. He admitted that he’d wanted to leave her to die. She remembered the blame and anger that had been in his eyes that night.

‘El,’ he said. ‘It didn’t take me more than a day to see that your mum was right, that saving you was the best thing she ever did. Not because of the plan, not because we got into the Olympia, but because I care about you – in a way I thought I was too broken to.’

He was close now and El inhaled his smoky fragrance. She cast her eyes to the floor. She was distracted by the thought of the Gymnasium, remembering the feel of his mouth on hers, the wave of heat his lips aroused in her. She shook away the thought and fixed her eyes on him.

He looked at her gently. ‘For the first few days I kept the truth from you because of the plan, but then I kept it from you because I knew that when you learnt of it … any chance I had with you was … over.’

Her eyes fell to the hearth, a film of tears forming.

‘I had to come to the Olympia yesterday and risk being seen,’ he said slowly, ‘I had to have the chance to kiss you before you stopped looking at me the way you do.’

El looked up to see the tawny hues of his eyes, bright and earnest. He was waiting for her but it was as though the cold house was snuffing out the warmth in her. She could feel the hardness forming in her and apprehension as she realised that she didn’t trust him. Couldn’t trust him.

He was right. The truth had brought them somewhere else. She thought of the hallway in the penthouse, where they’d explored the treasures of the bookcase, that she’d thought were hers as well as his. Valued by him, by her mum and then by her. Now, it was as though he’d taken all those moments from her. Each one she’d have to reanalyse and wonder what he’d truly been thinking. She’d opened up to him but he hadn’t cared enough about her to tell her the truth. He said he cared about her, but it was a pale sort of affection if he hadn’t been able to place her above his precious plan against the Order.

She closed her eyes and exhaled. Dan took her hand. She tried to pull it from his grasp but felt the electric sensation again – his skin on hers. She laid her other hand on his chest and looked up at him, determined to say what she had to. ‘I can’t anymore–’

‘Don’t, El, please.’ He put a finger on her lips.

She wanted to kiss him again. Even now with all the anger she felt, to have his lips obliterate everything was exactly what she desired – to have the whole world fall away and be in that place where there was only him. But touch wouldn’t take them back to that time that had been meant for them, that might, with different actions and words, have led them to be standing here together, instead of alone.

There was a firm knock at the door and, when neither of them answered, someone came in. It was Janos.

‘You’re needed in the kitchen,’ he said. ‘There are decisions that can’t wait any longer.’ As he withdrew, El followed.

- Chapter Twenty-Nine -

Bloodlines

The early morning light spilled into the library, illuminating the huge roll of paper that Janos had spread out on the coffee table. The mellow fragrance of wax candles scented the air, a few wicks still smouldering in the stubs on the mantelpiece and hearth. They’d all spent the night around the roll of wallpaper, the only paper El had found in the house big enough for Janos’s purpose: to sketch out the family lines of the most powerful and influential arete. A couple of metres lay stretched out, crammed full of names in a flourishing, cursive script.

When Janos had disturbed El and Dan last night, it was to say that the Order was rallying. It wouldn’t be long before they headed this way. Even the Opposition members they had gathered wouldn’t be able to keep them at bay. El, as Anna’s daughter, was being held as the instigator of the attack on the Order. She hadn’t expected to get off scot-free but was surprised that she was being held responsible. Dan was the most shocked, having assumed they would come after him. He had led the attack. He and Janos. The graeae said one thing was certain: none of them would be safe here for much longer. They had to leave, and they needed a plan.

El drew her eyes away from the names on the paper, those they had been contemplating for the last hour. She went over to the window, kneeling in the deep recess, amidst an array of plush cushions. Outside, the silhouette of the chicken and peahen coop was emerging as dawn broke. A few hens were starting to stir and claw at the dirt in which insects scurried.

Dan let out a sigh. He’d settled himself in the armchair almost an hour ago – the first to abandon studying the paper. He’d already made his opinion clear. He believed that El should go into hiding for the time being. With Janos’ blood, she could disappear. At least until the Opposition had taken more ground. Janos was no safer than she was, now that his connection to the Opposition was known. With Katia and Julia – the other two Triad members – dead, news of his disappearance would spread through the arete world, and he would be branded a traitor. El could hide with the aid of his blood but there was nothing that could shield him from the view of other graeae. If Janos were to stay safe, they needed another plan.

El looked at Dan in the pale light. The same questioning gleam he’d had last night radiated from his eyes – asking for her forgiveness. When he’d first spoken about her going into hiding, for a weak moment she’d imagined the two of them vanishing together. She’d thought of their brief date in Covent Garden, veiled by the kerykeion, and fantasies of travelling around Europe traipsed through her mind. There’d be a new city every couple of days; they’d live on street food and collect shared souvenirs like the others on the bookcase. But the haunting images that he’d saved were instantly before her: the graffiti art in streets and alleys, the huge eyes, tensed bodies and ephemeral images would be waiting around every corner. That was the real passion in Dan’s life. The only love he had in his heart was for the battle against the Order.

The truth was, it wasn’t just Dan who possessed the need to fight. El had lost so much to the Order too. They’d taken her mum and her grandma despite her best efforts. She’d almost lost her own life to the fight. She was afraid of what choosing to fight on would mean. Perhaps next time, she wouldn’t get away with her life. Yet she was more afraid of what it would mean not to fight. She didn’t want to cower in the shadows. She thought of her grandma, living blind all these years, leading a half-life. She thought of her own childhood, locked away from the world. Someone had once said that it was better to die on your feet than live a lifetime on your knees and she thought that she understood that now.

Was this her destiny she wondered – to fight even though she didn’t want to? She thought of her mum and smiled softly. Bloody hero. She thought of the ancient arete, Achilles who fought even when he knew that he was going to die, even when his mother begged him not to, even when he knew that he would lead a long life if he didn’t.

She’d already made her decision. She fixed her eyes on Janos. The graeae looked up from his contemplation. His foggy gaze darkened as though storm clouds were rolling in and obscuring the light. He’d been elsewhere again. Looking back or forwards, who knew? It was clear in the way he’d spoken about all the different arete documented on the paper that he’d been there too, known them. He’d allied with some and executed others. He’d been witness to countless generations coming and going. The information he’d shared showed that he’d been around for at least the last three hundred years.

‘So,’ El said. It wasn’t until the graeae’s eyes had returned to their normal, slate grey that she could meet his gaze. ‘If we attempt to align ourselves with a branch of the Carras’, who would be the best to reach out to?’

Janos’ stance on what to do was the opposite of Dan’s. He proposed that El seek an alliance with some of the more dominant and influential members of the Carras family. El’s relatives had graeae blood within their line but that wasn’t all. The real trump card was that the Carras’ were one of the handful of arete families to possess a source of empousa blood. By securing the high volume of empousa blood in El’s body, the Opposition had been able to infiltrate the Olympia in London, but if they could gain access to a source of empousa blood, they would be able to infiltrate Olympias worldwide.

‘Damn it, El,’ Dan said, leaving the room.

El ignored his departure and watched Janos scanning the document. His finger found a name near the top.

‘Helena Carras, your great, great grandmother,’ Janos said.

El frowned. ‘But you only sketched that far back to explain where the allegiances and hostilities in the family come from. She can’t still be alive? That would make her at least – I don’t know – a hundred and twenty or something–’

‘One hundred and forty, I believe,’ Janos said. ‘There are more personal advantages to having a supply of empousa blood than just enabling one to be an elite Order member.’

El had known that the blood rejuvenated damaged cells but had forgotten the repercussions. If this woman had an indefinite supply of empousa blood, her lifespan was without limit.

Janos had also explained that with so many elite Order members being killed in the attack, especially two members of the Triad, there would soon be a reshuffling of power. A new Triad would need to be chosen. Katia, the graeae who had fed El the empousa blood in the catacombs, had come from an influential family. She had been the only Triad member to have access to a source of empousa blood. The other handful of similarly well connected arete lines would also be vying to get their own into one of the top spots. It was an opportune moment to be reaching out to relatives and forming new alliances.

Silence hung over them for a few minutes. El chanced a glance at Luke. His bright eyes were still focussed on the same spot of paper that they had been pinned on for a while: his family tree. Luke’s family, Janos said, could also come in useful. The Laukas’ – although not one of the families with direct links to empousa blood – was a strong one. If Luke could persuade his father and their relatives to ally with the Carras’ it would strengthen their position. A force to be reckoned with. Perhaps one, after securing a source of empousa blood, capable of toppling the Order for good.

The ghost of a smile played on Luke’s lips. ‘I’ll talk to him.’ He regarded Janos soberly. ‘How much time do I have?’

Luke was going to meet his brother, Josh and try to get him on board with their plan. If Josh could speak to their father on their behalf, there might be a chance of getting the Laukas’ to ally with them.

‘Not long,’ Janos said. He passed Luke his car keys. ‘Take mine. We’ve already lingered here longer than we should. Meet your brother and tell him our intentions. Once you’re through, don’t stop for anything. Meet us directly at Braintree Airfield.’

Janos strode out of the room, his mobile immediately in hand. As Luke and El passed him in the hallway, they heard him speaking to an arete on the phone, arranging a plane to Greece. She smiled at Luke as she heard the graeae’s conversation. It must be a siren on the other end as he had given her instructions to call the Airfield and get their flight plan approved to Naxos ASAP. There really were no boundaries for arete.

El wavered at the door and then proceeded out with Luke. He hesitated for a moment and El seized the opportunity to hug him close. She was aware of her blush as his feather-soft gaze lingered on her and that, when they drew apart, her heart had quickened.

‘Stay safe,’ she said.

‘Don’t worry.’ He opened the door of Janos’ car. ‘I won’t do anything you wouldn’t.’ He climbed in and shut the door before rolling down the window. ‘Although, perhaps someone who’s taken on the Elysium shouldn’t be my role model.’

El smiled and batted her hand at him. ‘Just come back.’

He grinned. She watched the car power down the driveway. Luke was sure that he could trust his brother but leaving now, with the Order regrouping, was still a risk. She frowned, wondering if he’d be okay and hoping that he’d come back safely.

Near the peahen coop, Dan was kicking the dirt angrily and she knew he’d overheard their conversation. Although their exchange was harmless, he’d no doubt detected the flare in her emotions. El wondered dryly if a short break in Greece was exactly what she needed – to sort out her disappointed feelings towards Dan and work out if she wanted Luke not just to come back, but to come back to her.

When El came into the library, Janos was off the phone and staring out the window. Alex was still at the coffee table, lost in study. She recalled the first impression she had of him at the lab, in his tweed jacket and brogues: a professor. He definitely looked scholarly now but in a more slovenly student style – his shirt creased, sleeves rolled up and hair tussled. His hands swept through his hair again.

‘You and I are going to have to present a united front, El,’ Janos said. ‘Your relatives will think little of me – a graeae who has betrayed his own kind and has no connections worth mentioning.’

Janos had explained to them that a graeae became a member of the Triad ordinarily, not just for the power of their sight, but for the power of their family line too. Janos was an oddity. He’d been voted in purely for the strength of his gift and came from a line of little consequence.

El thought she saw where Janos was going with this statement but didn’t have the chance to say anything as Alex chipped in.

‘You really think it best for El to keep up this charade?’

‘Yes,’ she answered swiftly.

Alex stared at her.

She kneeled at the coffee table opposite him. ‘It’s all we’ve got – the ability to bluff. The only reason any of the Carras’ will align themselves with us is if they believe they can attain more power. Accordingly, the rumour that Janos has foreseen me attaining the full power is still our best bet.’

Alex frowned, but there was nothing she could say to make him worry less. It might not be okay this time and she wouldn’t tell him otherwise. The fact that her grandma, her mum and Dan had all lied to her weighed on her still. In a way, it seemed to her that manipulation of the truth was the real power and legacy that she’d inherited from her family.

Alex had had a hand in keeping her in the dark too, but he’d also tried to get Dan to tell her the truth. She remembered his irritation at Dan the morning after the catacombs, and now realised that Alex had been trying to get him to open up about the empousa blood. When she’d asked him if he’d done any work with it on human disease, he’d seemed sad. Now she knew why. There had only ever been enough for the Opposition to infiltrate Olympia. She wondered if their quest to secure a source might, this time, lead to something greater than just securing the Opposition’s purpose. Perhaps Alex’s dream of finding a cure for human disease might be answered too.

El had spent a long time studying the short line on the paper that contained the names of her immediate family. Most of the Carras lines interconnected with one another, the same names reappearing frequently over the generations. Her grandma’s name, joined with that of Devereux was an anomaly. It repeated in her mum’s name and then in hers. Janos had shown that her grandma, after blinding herself and changing her name to her husband’s, had found safety from the Order through obscurity. Anna’s cover had held so well and for so long because of that unknown name. But the anonymity they’d possessed was long gone. It was time for her to stop hiding.

El looked at Janos framed in the light of the window. The Burne-Jones painting of Perseus and the Graeae, with its muted greys and blues, hung in the corner to his left. The grey robes and mountains reflected the shade of Janos’ eyes. All the other graeae she’d met had the same shade too. The tints of the painting seemed too precise to be mere coincidence. El made a mental note to research whether the artist had been an arete.

In the picture, the three graeae were crouched down, looking for the one eye they shared. Perseus stood in the centre, holding their eye; trying to exchange it for information. El was about to go off on her own trip with a graeae, guided by his knowledge and sight. She wondered how much she could trust him to light the way. This man who had saved her but only having seen an opportunity in doing so. He’d used her as a vessel to smuggle out empousa blood and murder the other Triad members. A moment ago, he’d spoken of their united front, or at least of their presenting a united front. She was aware that she knew little about him. She would have to be watchful. She couldn’t afford to accept anything at face value.

However, they were going to Greece. And if it took an alliance between this mysterious, ancient prophet and herself to secure access to immortal empousa blood, then so be it. There was undoubtedly much that was unknown to her, and dangers that were yet to unfold, but she wouldn’t let the murky realms of the future keep her from her path.

The Arete Series continues
in

The All-Seeing Eye

Read the first chapter here…

- Chapter One -

Rites

The chest of drawers had spewed its contents across the room: clothes were strewn over the bed and floor. It was as if the destruction of downstairs had wrestled its way up. El set down a pile of sheets on the bed. This was the last room to deal with, and she couldn’t put it off any longer.

She collected and folded the clothes. Opening the cupboard, she stood on tiptoes and returned the jumpers to their shelves. There were a couple of hoodies slung over a chintz armchair. She placed them in the trolley bag on the floor. It was June and would be at least twenty degrees in Greece. She doubted she’d need any of the thicker items but with only shorts and T-shirts, the luggage looked strange: an alien wardrobe. She packed some jeans too, before returning the rest to the drawer.

Wondering what to tackle next, her eyes lit upon the poster on the wall: Florence and the Machine, Lungs. The singer’s lungs were a huge necklace, suspended on her chest. Her red hair, cheeks and lips stood out. Behind the woman, a blue tapestry fell like water, reminding El of Millais’ painting Ophelia. The last hues of life clung to the woman’s skin, about to be washed away.

El’s best friend, Ingrid had brought this poster back from a festival a couple of years ago. She remembered how pleased she’d been with the first present she’d ever had from a friend. As she stared at the poster, it seemed like a cadaver being dissected. It was no longer the singer in the poster but her grandma, and the highlighted lungs conjured to mind the sound of her final ragged gasp. El sprang at the poster and tore it from the wall, scrunching it up and stuffing it in the bin.

She cringed. She’d ruined her most treasured gift from Ingrid. Reality descended, diluting her guilt: Ingrid would never find out. El’s best friend barely remembered that she existed. El had had to manipulate her. She’d erased herself from Ingrid’s mind so that she would be safe from the arete world, from its danger … and death.

The bulky furniture in the room meant that there wasn’t much available wall space. The only other item on the wall was a large sign, hanging by the door. El stared at its words: “Life is better at the barn”. A lump rose in her throat as she fought the urge to go to the stables to say goodbye to her horse, Rika, one last time.

She set to work again. A pile of notebooks rested on the desk. Flicking through a History textbook, she relinquished it to the drawer, along with all the pads. Her finals were next week, but she wouldn’t be here. Free of clutter, the surface now only held a framed photo of her mum. In it, Anna had the same smile she’d worn in the catacombs. The one that she’d shown to El just before she died. El clenched her jaw, seized the frame and tossed it into the drawer.

She shook a bedsheet over the desk, draped one over her dresser and then the bookcase. Finally, she covered the bed. The sheet sloped from the headboard to the bottom posts. It looked like a shroud as if someone might be resting beneath. The image of a white body bag shot through her mind. She hadn’t been there when her grandma had been removed last night but she could imagine how it had passed. Grabbing her suitcase, she dragged it from the room and, without looking back, jerked the door shut.

Moving down the hall, white squares and spirals rose from the wine-coloured carpet. She stared at their geometry as if it contained hidden meaning.
She took the small back staircase down to the library.

El entered to the sound of Alex snoring gently. He was slumped in the wingback chair, his mouth open, fast asleep. Otherwise, there was no one else in the room, or so it appeared. El’s eyes drifted to the deep-recessed window, the sun’s rays skipping over the seat cushion. A hazy shape appeared as if a cloud of smoke were collecting. It could almost be dismissed as a trick of the light: the sun playing with motes of dust. But the definite profile of a figure now hovered in the window.

It reminded her of early black and white photos that avowed to have captured a spirit on film. If she were to take a snapshot, would Janos’ shadowy form translate to the camera? What she wouldn’t give to be able to dismiss him as a figment of her imagination, to chalk him up as an illusion. But the graeae, shifting in and out of the moment, was all too real: a state that he’d occupied for the last two hours.

El focused on what she reckoned was Janos’ head, willing him to return to the present. She wanted answers. Luke had been gone for hours. After Luke had left, Janos had muttered something cryptic about timing their departure correctly. Then, inexplicably, he’d shifted out of the present. El surmised he was looking for future danger but his silence annoyed her. They were meant to be meeting Luke at Braintree Airfield at eight o’clock this morning. It was almost eight already, and there was no hint of their departure.

Earlier, Janos had been keen for all of them to leave, warning them that the Order would be coming. The only reason he’d remained was for Luke to make overtures to his family. Luke was meeting with his brother to inform him of their plan to find allies in Greece. His brother would, in time, relay the information to their father. But what if the meeting hadn’t gone well? What if Luke had been turned over to the Order?

El had called to Janos many times. She narrowed her eyes. She’d kick him if she thought it would help but there was barely any of him left. Did he take his sense of touch with him when he left the present too? Alex snored loudly. How could he sleep, let alone be completely unfazed sharing a room with a spectre-like man? Perhaps Janos was stuck. Stretching out a hand, El edged closer, then stopped. The thought of reaching through him made her skin crawl.

Instead, she moved her case into the entrance hall. The pungent scent of the living room pervaded the air: burnt wood, fabric and chemicals. Hesitantly, she glanced into the blackened room. The sight of the piano jarred her. Scorched black at one end, the main keys merged with the black sharps and flats. She thought of her grandma’s fingers flying over them. As soon as the image was born, an angry heat burned in her as if the fire which had gutted the room moved through her.

Backing away, she gazed at where the front door should have been. It had been smashed when the Order had entered to capture her grandma, and now lay slumped against an outside wall. Two Opposition members guarded the driveway, looking innocuous in the daytime compared to how they had last night. Dan was somewhere amongst their ranks. Likely, he was as far away from her as possible.

She recalled how he’d begged her to forgive him for lying to her. He’d made her believe that she had the full power. He and Janos had: a lie that had been spread to draw the crowds of Order members to the London Olympia. Lies that had enabled the Oppositon to assassinate the Triad, except for Janos, who was working with the Opposition.

Last night, Dan’s pleading look had turned to anger when she’d refused to go into hiding. Dan had expected her to leave, now that she’d played her part. But he didn’t get it. She was part of this now: part of the Opposition and the fight against the Order. She wouldn’t leave him to fight alone. No matter how angry she was with his lies, she still cared for him.

She fished her phone out of her jeans, not so much a phone as a glorified clock. She’d taken the precaution of disabling it, in case the Order used more human methods to track them. Not that they would need to look hard; she was exactly where they would expect her to be. Despondently, she glanced at the phone as if by some miracle, a call or text might come in. El wished that Luke hadn’t gone off alone. They should have stayed together.

Doubts about Janos forced their way into El’s thoughts. She knew so little about him. She’d asked Dan to tell her more about him this morning. She knew that Janos had been working with her mum from within the Order for the last six years. Without him, they’d never have been able to get into the Olympia and take out the rest of the Triad. But why had Janos wanted the Triad removed? What were his reasons for wanting to destroy the Order when he’d been part of its hierarchy? Dan was certain of Janos’ allegiance. After all, Janos had been giving his blood to the Opposition all this time. El wanted to talk more to Janos about it before leaving but it didn’t look like there’d be time.

She paced before an old wooden church pew, running her hand over the walking sticks resting upon it. They’d been displaced from a broken stand. Lots of the furniture in the hall had been damaged by the Order’s break in and Louisa’s attack. El took up a walking stick as if it were a sword. Louisa. El pictured her merciless expression as she’d squeezed the life out of her grandma. Louisa was still out there somewhere. Probably safely among the lines of the Order.

El’s fingers ran over the smooth walking stick, its top adorned with a deer shed, and Louisa receded from her thoughts. Instead, El’s granddad took precedence. When she’d been little, he’d let her use these sticks in their games. They’d sparred with them, pretending to be Perseus or some other Greek hero.

The one she held had been her granddad’s favourite. It didn’t ache to think of him anymore. Like the smooth handle, time had softened her grief. She could picture him right here, pushing his heels down into his boots, reaching for the stick on the way out. His movements were so regular, repeated so often that they had become a ritual. Her memories of him were strong, happy, so unlike those of her grandma, or her mum. El tried to embrace her grief when she thought of them, but whenever either of them came to mind, any tenderness she felt warped.

Shame twisted her insides. Don’t speak ill of the dead, wasn’t that the saying? But she couldn’t help it. The urge to leave was strong. Every article and room was laced with a thousand associations, and everything seemed intent on waking the dead. She’d been trying to block them out, to ignore everything and just… exist.

She wrapped her arms around her, hugging the walking stick to her. Her grandma’s ugly crocs that she’d worn for the garden caught her eye, then the crumbling roses on the armoire. Her grandma would have cut them last week. The bouquets in the house were one of the ways she’d navigated the rooms, the fragrances shaping the darkness. El closed her eyes. How could death be so empty and yet so full?

She marched back down the corridor, the tap of the walking stick on the rug accompanying her. In the library, everything was the same as before. Janos was barely there. The stillness of the room pressed itself against her. It was as if no time had passed. She wondered if Janos was causing this sensation. When she strained her hearing, the ticking of a clock from the kitchen punctured the stillness. Time still passed. But she felt frozen: a bystander, waiting for something to happen.

Wood creaked. She jumped.

Alex let out a yawn. ‘Must have nodded off.’ He stifled another one. ‘How long have I been out?’

‘Not as long as Janos.’

‘Still nothing?’

She shook her head.

‘Have you slept?’

She shook her head again, her lips twitching. Even sleep-deprived, Alex was straight to thinking about her. He’d worked tirelessly throughout the early hours of this morning: making arrangements for her grandma’s burial, talking to the estate manager in preparation of their departure, dealing with the rooms that she couldn’t face. She hadn’t had to do anything, only sort out her own belongings.

‘Luke’s still not back,’ she said.

‘I’m sure he’s fine – Janos would have come back if anything had happened.’ He glanced at the insubstantial figure in the window.

El nodded, hoping that he was right.

‘I was thinking, we could put your mum’s ashes in the crypt.’

The urn on the mantelpiece called El’s gaze. Anger simmered just beneath her skin.

‘We could say a few words—’

‘There’s nothing to say,’ she snapped. She looked at Janos’ distorted outline, wishing she could disappear too.

Alex paused. ‘It’s okay to be angry. It’s understandable … natural—’

El seized the walking stick and jabbed it through the lower part of the shadowy figure.

‘El!’ Alex leapt up.

Removing the walking stick, she watched. The distorted form didn’t alter. ‘Natural?’ She pointed with the stick at the morphing figure. ‘Nothing about this is natural. Natural is that Granddad’s in the crypt.’

Alex’s eyes filled with understanding, annoying her even more. He misunderstood. She didn’t just mean that her mum shouldn’t be dead.

‘El, your mum loved you—’

She laughed. ‘Had a funny way of showing it, didn’t she?’

‘I know it may not seem like it … but you were always her top priority.’ He looked like he might hug her. She didn’t want his sympathy or to be cajoled into giving up her anger.

She gripped the stick. ‘Do what you like. But not the crypt – that place is for family. And whatever Anna was, she wasn’t that to me.’

The lines of Alex’s face deepened and she felt as if she’d struck him.

Without waiting for a reply, she strode out of the library and through the front door. Crossing the lawns, she tramped into the gardens.
Sculpted walls of Leylandii framed different sections. She passed through the kitchen garden, where ripening runner beans wound around canes like snakes around staffs.

The perfume of the flower beds assaulted her. Summer had wrought its change since she’d last been here. El had always found summer flowers too much, preferring the gentler spring blossoms. The scent blotted out everything as if the air was saturated with ambrosia.

A couple of crows cawed and flew off, startled by her sudden appearance. Where the hedges ended, the garden path veered into the woods. She stamped into the forest, the trills of birds swelling the trees before their branches pulled them back in.

A clearing opened out and El was brought up short. She blinked at the elegant colonnaded building: the Devereux Crypt. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d visited. Maybe at Christmas, to bring a Holly wreath for her granddad. In a few days, her grandma would lie here too. Although she was angry that her grandma had kept so much from her, she was okay with the thought of her being laid to rest here. Perhaps because she had lived a long life … and given so much of that time to El.

She picked her way over to the crypt, sat down on the top step and plucked a dandelion. The weeds were thick around the clearing, the earth littered with feathery seeds like cobwebs. She thought of her granddad ripping them up as he had regularly over the years. Looking at the space now, his exertions seemed meaningless. The nettles and brambles reached for the crypt, their creep imperceptible but their triumph assured. She pulled at the petals of the flower, examining her anger.

El understood now. Her mum had saved her, but not out of love. Instead, it was to get the empousa blood into her system. She’d saved her so that the Opposition could get into the Olympia and take out the Triad. She’d saved her to be a weapon in this war. She hated that death meant that she couldn’t berate her mum for her choices. She hated that she’d never be able to confront her for not being around. El had fantasised for years about meeting her. She’d wanted to hear how much her mum had missed her, that she would never leave her again. But that would never happen: Anna was gone, and the few memories she had of her were all there were ever going to be.

She absent-mindedly pulled out her phone again, staring at the time: 08:00. Where was Luke? What were they still doing here?
Why hadn’t Janos bloody well come back?
She stood up, gripped the walking stick and struck the weeds. Dandelion seeds erupted, their white parachutes spinning through the air. El rained down blow after blow on the thicket. She hit out at the nettles and the brambles, paying no attention to the thorns that snagged her hoody. She relished the sound of the snapping stalks and mulching leaves until she stopped, gasping in the clearing. With her hands on her knees, sweat running down her back, her thoughts finally stilled. For a moment, there was only the sound of her breath.

She started back along the path, whacking the odd branch that got in her way. When she slipped through the gardens and came around the side of the house, someone was in the manor’s doorway. Janos was back. She bolted across the lawn, not stopping until she reached him.

‘Janos, what did you see?’

‘We have to go.’

Hearing the hum of an engine, El looked down the driveway, her heart quickening. The Order … had they come?

The Opposition members standing on the driveway looked back at Janos. He nodded and they moved out of the way, onto the grass.

A car careened up the drive, around the trees and towards the house. Luke pulled it up beside them with Dan in the passenger seat. There really must be a need to hurry if they’d chosen to ride up to the house together. El’s tension dissipated as she saw that Luke was unharmed. Then she noticed the purplish bruise beneath his eye as he and Dan got out of the car.

‘What happened?’ El asked, staring at it.

Luke shook his head. ‘Oh, nothing, just my brother’s way of saying hello.’

Janos interrupted, ‘The Order’s on its way.’

Alex appeared with El’s suitcase and lifted it into the boot of his jeep, along with Anna’s urn.

‘Let’s get to Braintree then,’ Luke said.

‘No,’ Janos said. ‘I have seen that, for the time being, there’s no clear route out from any airfield. I want you all to go to the Camden safe house.’

‘Where are you going?’ El asked.

‘To Southend Airport. I’ll get the next flight to Greece. From there, I’ll be able to keep watch. I’ll contact you when I see an opportunity to get you out.’

‘Can’t we get a flight from there too?’ El insisted. His lack of explanation was irksome, especially as he’d not told them what he’d been doing for the last few hours.

Dan’s brow furrowed. ‘El, Janos has been overseeing this operation for years. If he sees this as the best move—’

‘Then what? We should just do it?’

Dan flushed but fell silent.

Alex held a needle and syringe: Janos’ blood. He must have drawn some so that they could disappear from the Order while they travelled. He gave Luke a dose and went over to Dan.

‘If you expect us to work with you,’ El continued, looking at Janos, ‘you’re going to have to be more open.’

‘I understand,’ he said. ‘I will answer your questions at the right time, but for now, this is adieu.’ He strode to his car and opened the door, retrieving a piece of paper from the glove compartment, and handed it to Dan. ‘I will send word to that address on the dark web as soon as I see a clear route to Greece open to you. And remember: with time, precision is everything.’

As Alex prepared another dose of blood for El, his expression was solemn. She knew him well enough to notice that he was troubled by Janos’ abrupt change of plans. She wished he’d say something.

With a sigh, El pushed her sleeve up to let Alex inject the blood.

Luke spoke up, ‘Can’t you stay here and come to the safe house with us?’

Janos shook his head. ‘Once I’m in Greece, I can focus entirely on watching the future. I’ll stay concealed and monitor the future timeline, only coming back to the present to give you information. Communication will be limited. Time is a precious commodity and I have cheapened it by lingering too long.’

El gawped. Whose fault was that? He’d been the one sitting around for the last few hours. Something told her that he wasn’t referring to the hours he’d spent out of this time, but the meagre few minutes he’d spent talking to them.

‘Do you want me to drive you?’ Dan asked.

‘No,’ Janos said. ‘I can deviate my route if necessary. Besides, you will be needed at the safe house to ensure everyone entry.’

For the first time, El noticed that Janos wasn’t entirely here: his hands were transparent. Any movement caused them to flicker as if a mild breeze might carry their particles away. They were still physical enough to interact with objects, and after opening the car door and getting in, he slammed it shut. The engine revved and with a quick manoeuvre, he hurtled away.

They stood for a moment in silence. El trotted to the boot of Alex’s jeep and threw the walking stick on top of her bag. She checked that her real weapon was stashed in her pocket: a cylindrical camping lighter.

She and Luke took the backseat, while Dan climbed in the front. Alex pulled away and they were soon racing down the drive.

El peered back. She wondered when she’d see the manor again. The Medieval section of the house drew her eye, with the smoother Victorian renovation tacked onto the side. Ivy ran over its body, binding the composite parts. Despite the foliage, the house looked disjointed: its sections infused with the spirit of different ages. Just like Janos. She pictured his impassive expression, blurring, fading away to … who knew where … or when. As the building vanished behind the trees, El reflected that nothing stayed the same. Everything, whether flesh or stone, was here one moment, and changed the next.

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The Connection

The first e-short, one of two prequels to The All-Seeing Eye, book two of The Arete Series.

Janos, the only survivor of the Triad, traverses time, seeking to ensure that the future he desires will come to pass.

Web of Lies

The second e-short, prequel to The All-Seeing Eye, book two of The Arete Series.

Luke Laukas is about to flee the UK with El and the Opposition. But first, he must disclose the truth about the Order to his brother, Josh. Can past ties be re-forged or are some things unforgivable?

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Author’s Note

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first instalment of The Arete Series. If you enjoyed the book and have a moment to spare, I would really appreciate a review on the page you purchased the book. Your help on spreading the word about arete is very much appreciated. Reviews will help other readers discover the arete world. Thank you!

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Thank you again for reading. Please sign up to my reader’s group on my website if you would like to hear news about upcoming books in the series.

Acknowledgements

First and always, thank you to Dave, for understanding my fascination for ancient worlds and their myths. Thank you for your creativity in the cover design and for your tirelessness in line editing.

A huge thanks to my writer’s group that has helped me develop and finish this book. Especially to Barbara Murphy Marder for her dialogue, which is as sharp as her wit and to Samantha Nash for her scientific attention to detail and structure. Thank you too to Karin Lillehei Bakhtiar for your thorough and brilliant editing and proofreading. Thank you to Crystal Packard as well, who has helped shape some of the comic aspects within the story. Thank you to Caroline and Gary Smailes at Bubblecow for your structural edit.

Finally, thank you Rebecca Turner for your scientific expertise, for looking at drafts, your forbearance in proofreading and your continued encouragement.

Table of Contents

Vigilance

Blurred

The Shuttered Eye

Arete

Hidden Worlds

The Puppeteer

No Man’s Land

Rebels and Runaways

Meet and Greet

The Procession

Both Hidden and Clear

The All-Seeing Eye

An Eye and a Tooth

Untethered

Homecoming

Foundling

Foresight

Dark Eyes

Kindled

The Olympia

Elysium

Matched

Burning City

The Blessed Isle

The Siege of the Olympia

Reunions

The Storm

Hindsight

Bloodlines

Rites