Prophecy of the Most Beautiful (48 page)

He frowned and she rolled her eyes.

“I feel better now. The laurel’s working.”

Nothing.

"Get a move on, Irish, before it decides to kick in and I zonk out again."

Strafford chuckled and helped her into a sitting position.

"All right. Wha' do you have to tell me tha's so important?" He dropped back down onto the bed.

"I had a dream," She said, straining to remember every detail of it.

"You shouldn' be tellin' me this. For the last time, your dreams are sacred."

She groaned. "I know, I know. I'm not going to tell you the dream. Only what I know because of it." Strafford still didn't seem comfortable with that, but nodded.

She braced herself. "I think I know why everything has become so unstable in Olympus...and in all of
Myth
."

Strafford stiffened. "Why?"

"Because," she said. "
From the birth of a young nation shall rise, a Pythia, with hair like fire and sapphire eyes, with mind and instrument to bring to Olympus great power as one, maybe earth, maybe water, maybe sky, maybe sun.
"

Strafford seemed bewildered, an expression that she'd never seen on him before. "Was tha' the GUP? The gods couldn' figure
tha'
out?"

She wished it was that easy. "It's only the first part. And I think the gods didn't understand it because, as crazy as it sounds, the Fates speak a language that is incomprehensible to them.
Kismet
."

His eyes narrowed. "Kismet can't be spoken…"

"It can," She insisted, "and the Fates
did
when they appeared before the gods two thousand years ago. That's why
he
could speak it. It's the only language it's ever been heard in."

She had just told Strafford more than she should have about her dream, but she didn't care. He needed to know.

He frowned, quizzically, not realizing it. "Who is
he
?"

She just looked at him.

Strafford closed his eyes briefly as he figured it out. "
Apollo
." His fists clenched. "So tha's wha' he meant.
Wha' if she knows
. Bah! He already knew you would. The
bastard.
"

"What?" But Strafford just looked away and she wondered if he had been keeping worse secrets from her than she had from him.

"There's more," She said, worried all the more now.

"Well? Give it to me then." He was still looking away, his fingers massaging his temples.

She sighed, thinking of her dream. "I think the Fates prophesied a new king for Olympus. For
Myth. Maybe earth, maybe water, maybe sky, maybe sun
." She paused, letting it sink in. "I believe it's sun.
Apollo.
That's why it was Apollo in my dream and the reason the prophecy is in Kismet. None of the gods can decipher it, not even Apollo, and that's the point. It was meant for me. I'm the only one in the last two thousand years who has been able to understand it when it's
spoken
and the Fates already knew this would be the case. And as the prophetic god, so did Apollo."

She waited on the Fates to confirm or deny, but, nothing.

Strafford was staring at her like she had just turned into an Empusa before his eyes. "This can't be true," He said, "You must've interpreted somethin' wrong…"

"I've seen it, Strafford."

Strafford was on his feet, pacing. He did so for several minutes. "So tha's the war you were talkin' abou' in your chantin', not a war with Hades, as I’d assumed, but with Apollo. Tha's wha' you meant abou' history repeatin' itself. Kronos defeated his father, Uranus. Zeus defeated his father, Kronos. Now Apollo will battle his father, Zeus. Tha's wha' it all meant."

She nodded. "Yeah, I think so." She still couldn't remember anything about the chanting in Corinth, but somehow she knew he was right.

He turned to her. "And you're the chosen Oracle tha' was born to help him do it, aren't you?
Mind and instrument.
"

It was funny how he had managed to see the silver lining like she already had. "Yes…" But to hear it said out loud was so much worse.

"Okay. Let's say you're right abou' all of this. Let's say Apollo does want Zeus's throne. How does he plan to accomplish tha'?" He questioned. "Does he think it'll be
easy
to defeat Zeus? Zeus is more powerful than any god before him or now, and he knows tha'. There has to be more to it."

She nodded. "I think there is, but I'm not sure what. I think this goes much deeper than what I interpreted. We need the rest of the GUP to know anything for sure, and only the Fates know how we're gonna find that out."

Strafford stopped pacing suddenly. His expression became hard as stone. "Tha's why he chose me."

She was puzzled. She had no idea what he was talking about. "Chose you for what?"

"Chose me to be your guardian, Chloe. He already knew I would accept. He must've seen it. It's all part of his plan." He dropped back onto the bed. "He
knew
."

She thought she should understand what he meant, but she didn't. "I don't get it. What did he know?"

Several tense minutes passed before he answered. "He knew, Chloe." He gazed at her with his intense gray eyes. "He knew I would fall in love with you."

An eternity came and went before she could breathe again. He held her gaze until her lips were able to whisper, "You love me?"

His answer was filled with certainty. "Yes. From the moment I saw you, I was finished."

"Honestly?"

"Bloody hell, wan. I would've thought you'd picked up on tha' already. I mean, how much more possessive does a man have to get over you?"

She couldn't stop the smile from appearing on her face. She couldn't slow down the thrill that zipped through her. She wouldn’t even allow herself to think of the girl in the locket and how he wore it still.
Nothing
would ruin this moment. "I love you, too," She said. "And I don't care about your disgrace or your past. You're honorable to
me.
I couldn't have done any of this without you. I now know what a true
hero
is by watching you be the guy you were born to be. And believe me, there's
no
shame in that."

After a moment, Strafford grinned. "Tha' means a lot to me, Chloe. Thank you." He paused. "I'm not blushin', am I?"

She laughed. "No."

"Good." He kissed her hand then said, "By the way, Apollo is using us."

She thought nothing could kill her joy, but that statement did. "What do you mean?"

"He knows tha' I'll die for you. He knows me and always knew I would. You're my everythin' now. He must've seen you in my future and knew I'd do anythin' for you. It's me and you, together, for always. Wha'ever your future holds, I'm gonna be there for it. Even if it means snatchin' the crown of Olympus off of Zeus's head. We'll do it
together
. This is wha' Apollo knows."

She hadn't thought of it in that way and didn't like the thought one bit. She didn't want Strafford involved in this. "If anything happens to you, I'll die."

He half-smiled, but didn't give her any of the comforting words she'd been expecting. She should have been flattered that he didn't want to lie to her face and tell her everything was going to be okay when there was a good chance that it wouldn't be. But she'd been hoping for that lie. She wasn't sure she could do whatever the Fates had planned for her future. Not without the assurance that everyone she loved wouldn’t get hurt in the process. But she guessed there could be no such assurances. This life had none.

Strafford dropped his head and his brow creased as he thought hard about something. She was thinking how brilliant and prophetic Apollo had to be to orchestrate such a flawless plan. If she was right in her thinking, then he had known that she and Strafford would fall for each other, binding the Sun Prince to the GUP. It was simply brilliant…and frightening. What other things did Apollo already know? What other plans might the god have up his divine sleeve? She was dreading finding out.

Eventually, Strafford's eyes found hers again and he said, "Don't tell the others or anyone else for tha' matter. We have to pretend like nothin' is different 'cause if Apollo finds out we know his plans or the GUP…well…we have to buy us some time is all. To figure things out."

She took his hand again, knowing what he meant. "Strafford, I think the Fates have already decided. There's really no way to stop––"

"There's always a way. You said '
maybe sky
', so possibly there's a chance Zeus can keep his throne and we can avoid a war. All I know for sure is tha' nothin' is set in stone until we decide tha' it is. Our will can change things. You, above everyone else, should know tha'."

She couldn't argue it. He was right.

"I have to go. I have to think," He said, "and you need to sleep."

She gripped his hand. "No. Don't go."

He chuckled. "Do you have to fight me on everythin'? You need your rest." He paused, then more seriously added, "I
will
protect you, you know. From everythin' and everyone.” He smiled a little. “I jus’ don’ have a choice abou’ it anymore."

He showed her the palm of his left hand, which had been branded with a symbol that looked like the letter "M", but instead of being round at the top, each stroke met at a perfect ninety-degree angle. She had seen something that resembled this before. On a side of the directory at the cabin in
Spritewood……

"The Delphic Tripod." Chloe let her fingers graze over the shallow grooves of the brand. "Is this the
price you paid
?" She asked softly.

His expression was like looking into the face of a statue. "Yup. Apollo cursed me. Part of his plan to tie me to you, no doubt."

"Why would he do that?" She said angrily, "What does it mean? Why the Delphic Tripod?"

He pulled his hand from her grip. "It doesn' matter, Red. I don't want you to be worried abou' things tha' don't have to do with you gettin' better. Not wars, or curses, or prophecies. I want you to rest."

"I don't want to rest! I want to know what that curse will do to you!" Then she realized something else that pained her. "Your Kismet lines! He branded over them! I'll never be able to read your prophecies now!" Now she would never know the rest of the one she had begun to uncover in New Elysium.

Strafford finally smiled. "Then I should've had him curse me much sooner. I don't want to know any of my prophecies. Now I'm done talkin'. Be quiet and rest." She wanted to force him to tell her what the curse meant, but nevertheless, she settled back against her pillow, ready to do whatever he wanted her to do because that's what she would do for Strafford…
anything
.

He made sure she was comfortable, arranging the pillows for her and retrieving an extra blanket for her out of one of three wardrobes in his spacious suite. He leaned over her to fix a part of the sheet that had come undone and after straightening it out, he lingered there, their faces hardly more than two inches apart. The oxygen immediately left the room and all she was living on was him––the sight of him, the smell of him, his very presence. She was barely breathing when his mouth pressed down on hers. Her arms slid up his chest and around his neck, and she clung to him like she was afraid he would magically disappear. His lips pressed down harder on hers, his arms gently slipped under and around her waist as he pulled her up to him, and she was instantly assured that he wasn't going anywhere.

His lips were warm and soft, like she knew they would be. His tongue tasted sweet, like candy, or maybe she had only imagined it. All she knew for sure was, Cupid's kiss was now going to have to settle for second place.

Strafford was the one to finally pull back, but only a little. They sat in a close embrace. "I should go now," He whispered, his sweet breath tickling her nose, "before I spend the night here."

"You can stay," she whispered back, her fingers tangled desperately in his hair.
Please stay.

“I can’t. It’s jus’ not a good idea.” He looked serious, so she didn’t push it. But she wanted to.

"I forgot to tell you," He said, turning away from the subject, "I brought you somethin'."

A gift
? "What is it?" She asked, trying not to sound too anxious. She allowed him a little room to maneuver.

From out of his back pocket, he pulled a small box. She sucked in a breath as he placed it in her hand.

"Open it."

She ran her hand over the jeweled case before obeying. She gasped.

"A ring! Is this––"

"Your
Morph
? Yeah." He lifted the ring from its box and gestured for her hand. "You have to put it on immediately. It has to know who it belongs to." He slid it onto the ring finger of her right hand. "It's onyx made from Aphrodite's fingernails and then set in Empyrean bronze. It cost me a fortune, but, ah, you're worth it, I guess."

She cradled her arm to her chest. "Thank you so much, Strafford. I love it." She puckered her lips for a kiss and he placed one on them, gentle and sweet.

"Go on ahead, take it off. See if it works. You have to will it to change."

Gently, she slid the ring off and she filled her mind with thoughts of the ring changing into a weapon. In the next second, there was a muted flash and she was holding a beautiful onyx dagger with a bronze handle engraved with a dragon. "Just like your tattoo.
Awesome
." She willed it back into a ring and slid it onto her finger.

"Glad you like it." After another kiss, he stood. "Enough excitement, sleep now." He shook his head when she started to protest again and backed towards the door.

"I love you, Chloe. Rest well. I won't be far away.” At the doorway, he stopped and waved his hand. The skylights dimmed to almost complete darkness, the door closed behind him and he was gone.

*****

XXXVII. Chloe