“Is it all right if I check and see how you’re healing?” Ariadne asked politely when Helen was settled back in the bed. “It would mean that I would have to lay my hands on you, and I want to make sure you’re okay with that.”
“You just watched me pee,” Helen responded with an embarrassed laugh. “So, yeah, I’m okay with a checkup. But wait—is it going to hurt?”
“Not at all. I’m just going to take a peek, not grow cells. That’s whatreallyhurts you. If it’s any consolation, it’s no picnic for me, either. So exhausting,” Ariadne said with a smile as she pushed Helen, making her lie down.
“Okay,” Helen said uncertainly. She rested against the pillows and waited for the pain that she suspected was soon to follow, despite Ariadne’s optimistic denial.
Ariadne put her hands on Helen’s ribs and concentrated. Helen felt a faint vibrating sensation, like she was standing in front of an enormous subwoofer, but, as promised, it didn’t hurt at all. After a few moments, Ariadne lifted her hands and looked at Helen.
“I couldn’t ask for a better patient,” she said with a beaming smile. “After seeing how much damage you and Luke sustained, I had my doubts. But you’re going to be just fine.”
“Thank you,” Helen said earnestly. “For the healing and helping me...”
“And thankyoufor not peeing on me.” Ariadne laughed as a beautiful pixie of a woman in her late twenties popped her head around the half-open door.
“You two are having way too much fun to be in a sickroom,” she said with a mischievous look in her yellowish cat eyes. Helen had a feeling that those eyes were usually filled with some kind of worldly mischief, and she instantly liked her for it. It reminded her of Kate. She entered the room, tinkling like a shaken bag of loose change. She had short, spiky hair. Helen noticed that her wrists were buried under layer upon layer of glittering bangle bracelets, and although Helen couldn’t see them, she could hear that the woman’s ankles probably had a few bits of jewelry wrapped around them as well.
“Helen, this is my aunt Pandora. Dora, this is...” Ariadne rapped her fingertips on the bedspread like a drumroll. “The famous Helen Hamilton!”
“Ta-da,” Helen replied weakly. Pandora sat down on the end of the bed.
“Gorge-ous! I can see why she’s got Luke’s panties in a twist,” she said with a cheeky grin.
“No! That’s all done with! We haven’t heard the Furies since we woke up on the beach,” Helen said urgently. When Pandora gave her a quizzical look, Helen felt like she had to keep going. “I don’t want to kill any of you anymore. Just to be clear.”
“Well, good, ’cuz I hear you’ve got quite the arsenal,” Pandora said as if she was giving a big compliment. Helen had no idea what she was talking about so she changed the subject.
“How is Lucas?” she asked cautiously, still surprised that she could say his name without being launched into a fit of anger. Pandora and Ariadne glanced at each other.
“He’ll be okay,” Pandora said firmly. She shook her wrists and sent her bangles into a cascade of sparkles and jingles, almost as if she believed the cheerful sound would banish all dark thoughts.
“It was close, but he’s healing,” Ariadne added with an optimistic face. Helen couldn’t look at either of them. The tense moment was broken by a glugging sound in Helen’s stomach, which lasted for an inordinately long time.
“Well, you’re hungry,” Pandora said drily. “And I think you might be able to come downstairs with some help.”
Helen was outfitted with a long terry-cloth bathrobe, which bore the logo of a popular Spanish soccer team, from Ariadne’s closet. Then, with a few more jokes about how Helen could use a little fattening up, she was carried downstairs by her two new patronesses.
When they reached the kitchen, they were greeted with a heavenly scent blossoming off of the stove, and Helen’s stomach growled again. Hector heard the noise and cocked an eyebrow as she was deposited gently in a chair at the kitchen table. He said something to the woman who was orchestrating dinner, and she spun around to look at Helen.
“I didn’t think you’d be joining us,” the woman said with a startled face. “I’m so glad.”
“Thank you. And thank you again for the stuff you sent my father and me,” Helen said. She knew immediately that this was Noel Delos, and she could also tell that Noel was a normal woman without an ounce of demigod strength. A big, bubbling pot of guilt boiled over in Helen’s chest. She had threatened this fragile human in a family of super-heroes—threatened her to her son and her nephews, no less. Noel smiled knowingly at Helen’s penitent face.
“You’re very welcome. Now, first things first. How do I contact your father to let him know you’re okay?”
“I’d rather keep my dad out of this,” Helen replied nervously.
“You’ve been gone all night and all day. Don’t you think he’ll be worried?”
“He’s in Boston for the weekend. He won’t be back until tomorrow night.”
“All right, it’s up to you, but I want you to know I think it would be better if you and your father had a long talk about all this,” Noel said with piercing eyes. Then she whirled around and got busy with dinner. Helen had the feeling that she may have been granted a stay of execution, but she wasn’t pardoned yet. “Are you ready to eat now?” Noel asked, buzzing around.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungry,” Helen replied truthfully.
“It’s the heal,” Noel said, smiling at some internal thought as she laid down bread, salt, and oil in front of Helen. She poured a tall glass of milk before gesturing impatiently. “Eat. This isn’t the time to be shy, Helen. You need it.”
Helen ripped into the bread like a medieval glutton with low blood sugar. Noel smiled again and asked Hector to go get some hard cheese out of the fridge. He grudgingly did as he was told. As he put the cheese down he made a joke about being scared to get his fingers too close to Helen’s mouth.
