The Demigod Diaries

Page 25

But fate had a different plan for him. When he was facing his judgment, he would also have to be punished for aiding a traitor.

It was ironic, really.…He had died doing a good thing, but he might be sentenced to an eternity in darkness. This had been his fear from childhood, dying and being rejected by heaven.

Of course, even as he floated through the frigid waters, he had a smile on his face.

The fact that Alabaster wasn’t making this journey with him told him one thing: Lamia hadn’t killed the boy. Without a hostage holding him back, surely Alabaster would have read the spell out of pure rage and defeated Lamia.

And that was enough to make Claymore content, no matter what punishment the gods decided on.

He’d have the last laugh now, and for the rest of eternity.

But, surprisingly, fate didn’t play out that way. Above him in the darkness, a light glimmered, growing brighter and warmer. A hand reached down to him—a woman’s hand reached out to him through the darkness. Being a logical man, he did the logical thing. He took it.

Once his eyes adjusted, he saw that he was in a church. Not the glistening holy church of heaven, but one that had fallen into disrepair. It was the same filthy, dust-covered chapel that he had seen in his dreams. And praying at the altar was the young woman in ceremonial clothing—Alabaster’s mom, the goddess Hecate.

“I suppose you’re waiting for me to thank you,” Claymore said. “For saving my life, that is.”

“No,” Hecate said, solemnly. “Because I didn’t save your life. You’re still dead.”

Claymore’s first instinct was to argue, but he didn’t. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out your heart isn’t beating. “Then why am I here? Why did you bring me to this place?”

He approached the altar and sat in the dust next to Hecate, but she didn’t look at him. She kept her eyes closed and prayed. Her face was like a Greek statue—pale, beautiful, and ageless.

“I saved them,” she told him. “Both of my children. You’re going to hate me for that.”

Both…She’d saved Lamia.…

Claymore guessed it wasn’t wise to yell at a goddess, but he couldn’t help it. “You told Alabaster you couldn’t interfere!” he demanded. “After all I sacrificed to help the boy, you stepped in at the last moment and saved that monster?”

“I don’t want any more of my children to die,” Hecate said. “Alabaster’s solution would have worked. Thanks to your selfless death, he had time to retrieve the notebook and find the spell. It was a binding incantation—the reversal of a spell designed to heal and fortify a living body. If he had cast it on Lamia she would have been reduced to a pile of black dust, but she would not have died. Nor would she have regenerated. She would have remained alive as a pile of black dust forever. I stopped that before it could happen.”

Claymore blinked. The boy’s solution would have been both brilliant and simple. He admired Alabaster more than ever.

“Why didn’t you let him do it?” Claymore asked. “Lamia is a murderer. Didn’t she deserve Alabaster’s judgment?”

Hecate didn’t answer for a moment. She just clasped her hands tighter.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, she whispered: “Alabaster likes you. I saw how happy you make him. It’s probably because you remind us both of his father.” She smiled faintly. “Alabaster is a child who always seeks to make his mother proud, even if he can sometimes be reckless.…But Lamia also had a difficult past. She didn’t ask for her fate. I want to see her as happy as Alabaster.”

“Did you bring me here just to tell me this?” Claymore asked, raising an eyebrow. “To tell me that all of my efforts were in vain?”

“They won’t be, Doctor. Because I’m going to have you look after Alabaster.”