The Demigod Diaries

Page 23

Claymore eyed Alabaster. Though Claymore wouldn’t call himself empathetic, he did feel sorry for this boy, having gone through so much at such a young age. “If your forces were completely destroyed, how did you escape?”

“We weren’t all destroyed,” Alabaster said. “Most of the remaining half-bloods fled or were captured. They were so demoralized they joined the enemy. There was a general amnesty, I guess you’d call it—a deal negotiated by the same kid who killed Kronos. That kid convinced the Olympians to accept the minor gods who’d followed Kronos.”

“Like your mother, Hecate,” Claymore said.

“Yes,” Alabaster said bitterly. “Camp Half-Blood decided that they would accept any children of minor gods. They would build us cabins at camp and pretend that they didn’t just blindly massacre us for resisting. Most of the minor gods accepted the peace deal as soon as the Olympians proposed it, but my mother didn’t. You see…I wasn’t the only child of Hecate serving under Kronos. Hecate never had many children—but I was the strongest, so my siblings followed my lead. I convinced most of them to fight…but I was the only one who survived. Hecate lost more demigod children in that war than any other god.”

“That’s why she refused their offer?” Claymore guessed.

Alabaster took another sip of tea. “Yes. At least, she refused it at first. I urged her to keep fighting. But the gods decided that they didn’t want one rebellious goddess to spoil their victory, so they made her a deal. They would exile me forever from their favor and their camp—that was my punishment for having an attitude—but they would spare my life if Hecate rejoined them. Which is another way of saying that if she didn’t join them, they’d make sure I died.”

Claymore frowned. “So even the gods aren’t high and almighty enough to resist blackmail.”

Alabaster stared at the cozy fireplace with a look of distaste. “It’s better not to imagine them as gods. The best way to think of them is more like a divine Mafia. They used their threat to force my mother into accepting the deal. And in the process, exile me from camp so I can’t corrupt my brothers and sisters.” He finished his tea. “But I’ll never bow to the Olympian gods after the atrocities they committed. Their followers are blind. I’d never set foot in their camp, and if I did, it would only be to give that son of Poseidon what he deserves.”

“So you have no help,” Claymore said. “And this monster Lamia is after you…why?”

“I wish I knew.” Alabaster put down his empty cup. “Since the moment I was exiled, I’ve fought and killed a lot of monsters that came after me. They instinctively sense demigods. As a lone half-blood, I’m a tempting target. But Lamia is different. She’s a child of Hecate from the ancient days. She seems to have a personal vendetta against me. No matter how many times I kill her, she just won’t stay dead. She’s been wearing me down, forcing me to move from town to town. My protective incantations have been pushed to their breaking point. Now I can’t even sleep without her trying to break through my barriers.”

Claymore studied the boy more closely and noticed dark circles under his eyes. Alabaster probably hadn’t slept in days.

“How long ago have you been on your own?” Claymore asked. “When was your banishment?”

Alabaster shrugged like even he’d forgotten. “Seven or eight months ago, but it seems longer. Time is different for us half-bloods. We don’t have the same cushy lives that mortals do. Most half-bloods don’t even live past twenty.”

Claymore didn’t reply. Even for him, this was a lot to absorb. This child was an actual demigod, the son of a human and the goddess Hecate.

He had no idea how that sort of procreation worked, but obviously it did, because the boy was here, and clearly he was no regular mortal. Claymore wondered if Alabaster shared Lamia’s ability of regeneration. He doubted it. Siblings or not, Alabaster constantly referred to Lamia as a monster. That wasn’t the kind of term you’d use for your own kind.

The boy was truly alone. The gods had exiled him. Monsters wanted to kill him, including one who was his own sister. His only companion was a Mistborn man who sprang from a three-by-five note card. And yet somehow, the child had survived. Claymore couldn’t help being impressed.

Alabaster started to pour himself another cup of tea, then froze. One of the symbols scribbled onto his right sleeve was glowing bright green.

“Lamia’s here,” he muttered. “I have enough power to keep her out for a while, but—”

There was a brittle sound like a lightbulb popping, and the symbol on his sleeve splintered like glass, spraying shards of green light.

Alabaster dropped his cup. “That’s impossible! There’s no way she could have broken my barrier with her magic unless she…” He stared at Claymore. “My gods. Claymore, she’s using you!”

Claymore tensed. “Using me? What are you talking about?”

Before Alabaster could answer, another rune on his shirt exploded. “Get up! We need to go now! She just breached the secondary barrier.”

Claymore got to his feet. “Wait! Tell me! How is she using me?”

“You didn’t escape her; she let you go!” Alabaster glared at him. “You have an incantation on you that disrupted my spell insignias! Gods, how could I have been so stupid!”

Claymore clenched his fists. He’d been outplayed.

He’d been so busy trying to comprehend the rules of this world and form a strategy that he hadn’t expected Lamia to use a strategy of her own. Now his mistakes had led her right to her target.

Alabaster touched Claymore lightly on the chest. “Incantare: Aufero Sarcina!”

There was another explosion. This time green shards of light flew from Claymore’s shirt and he staggered backward. “What did you—?”

“Removing Lamia’s incantation,” Alabaster explained. “And now…”