Lore

by Alexandra Bracken

it is acceptable, even preferable, to be alone,” Athena told her, “when those around you would hold you back or deceive you. The exceptional among mortals will always stand alone, for no one in the world was made for their task. Take confidence in that, and let it be a poison to your fear.”

A small smile curved on the goddess’s face. “What?” Lore asked. “I had forgotten what it felt like,” Athena said. “To take on the mantle of Mentor.”

“Indeed,” Athena said, a note of amusement in the word. “It is tiresome to wear another’s face, but men will so often only listen to other men.”

She had left her alone with Miles and Van … She had trusted her to honor her oath to not harm Castor … She had … She had … Believed her. “You thought what, that I possessed a heart?” Athena said. “The heart is only a muscle.”

“No.” She raised her voice, making sure the word thundered. Athena’s nostrils flared. “Impertinent child—” Lore stared up at her through the strands of her dark hair. “The choice is mine.” She turned the blade on herself and slid it into her chest.

He met her gaze. He said nothing, but, then, he never needed to. His face was a book that had been written only for her. Its story unfolded while he watched her watch him.

A person alone could be controlled, but a person loved by others would always be under their protection.

“I was born knowing how to do three things—how to breathe, how to dream, and how to love you.”

She had always been that girl, her feelings unbearable, her hair wind-matted as she ran through the city. But then, Castor had always been that boy who ran alongside her.

“What’s going to happen to you when the Agon ends?” she whispered. Lore felt him smile against her skin. “You gonna miss me, Golden?” “Maybe I like having you around,” she said. “You’re easy on the eyes.”

“Should I be unnerved that you know my jean size?” “Should I be annoyed you always leave your clothes in our washing machine so I end up having to dry and fold them for you?”

“The other bloodlines won’t willingly give up the Agon.” “It’s a good thing, then,” Iro said with a small smile, “that neither of us has ever been afraid of a fight.”

“By the way, that sword has a name. Mákhomai.” I make war. Lore smiled.

“Oh, to hell with it,” she heard Miles mutter. “If there’s a chance we’re all going to die—” He crossed the street in long, purposeful strides, passing Castor without acknowledging him. The new god looked back as he came toward Lore, apparently just as confused as her. Van had his back to them and was rooting through his bag, searching for something. Miles stopped behind him and reached up to tap his shoulder. As he turned, Van’s brows rose at the sight of Miles and a small, expectant smile lit his face at something Miles said. There was a beat of utter stillness, then Van took Miles’s face between his hands and leaned down for a searing kiss.

“If we’re wrong about your immortality and somehow they take you,” she whispered, “wait for me at the dark river. I’ll bring you home.” “Hades himself would turn me back at the gates knowing you’re coming,” Castor told her, “and that I’d fight like hell to meet you halfway.”

Lore had been born into this cage, and now she would die in it—if not her body, then her soul.

She met Athena’s gaze and nodded. The look the goddess gave Lore was sharp, ever-commanding. “Through the heart.” Together, they plunged the dagger forward, the blow striking hard and true. The goddess shook, her eyes open, flashing silver as she saw something, felt something, beyond knowing. It was a warrior’s kill. A god’s final reckoning.

Castor pressed her to him, hard. “No—stay,” he begged. “Stay here!” Her power left brands on his skin. It stirred a thought in her, pulling her out from the fathomless light she was dissolving into. Hurting him. Castor kissed her—kissed her until that blazing power lost its grip on her mind and body. The feel of him became a tether to the world, and she held it with everything she had in her. The blazing power extinguished around them. Nothing felt real but him. “Stay,” Castor said again, as he pulled his lips away from hers. “Don’t go without me …”

“Where is everyone?” she asked, her pulse quickening as she looked around the empty space. “Are they okay?” Lore had a sudden, vivid memory of what had happened in the subway station. “Is Castor—?” “He’s okay. Everyone is fine. I mean—fine in that vaguely traumatized way that comes with not fully processing everything that’s happened, but fine.”

“This is my home,” Lore said. “Even if I lose this form, I’ll find a way to come back. I’m determined, and you know what that means.” “You get a very intense look on your face and punch someone in the kidney?” Miles said.

“I might need to be gone awhile, but I would never leave you forever. Not if I can help it.” “Okay, but counterpoint,” Miles said. “I don’t want you to go at all.”

“You know, this city is a lot of bullshit,” Lore said after a while. “But it’s some beautiful bullshit.”

“I mean, picture it—some nice lights, a few little plants here and there—” “You have killed every single plant I’ve brought home for you,” Miles said. “And then I went home to Florida for spring break and you killed my plants because you didn’t water them.” “I was busy,” Lore protested. “They seemed fine.”

As the hours passed, the night felt dreamlike to her. The flow of conversation and laughter, the faces lit by candlelight. Lore watched, too afraid to look away in case she missed a second of the life she loved.

She reached for her phone, checking the time. 11:50 p.m. Lore had promised Miles and the others that she and Castor would wake them up before midnight. Yet as her hand hovered over his shoulder, she couldn’t bring herself to go through with it. She had already faced so many good-byes in her life, all painful, and none of them on her own terms.

“If you could choose,” Lore began. “With everything you know … would you keep your power?” He considered the question, stroking along her jaw. “No. I never wanted forever. When I was sick, I just wanted a moment more. An hour more. A day more. I wanted to wrestle with my dad, continue my training to be a healer, and to run through the city with you …”