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how could she remember someone else’s memories? It was impossible. And considering how horrible these borrowed memories were, what Helen really wanted to know was how she could make them stop.
    “Lennie?” whispered Claire, somewhere by Helen’s feet.
    Helen looked down and saw Claire poking her head up over the back of the fainting couch that Ariadne had at the foot of the bed. Usually, Ariadne just threw her clothes over it, so Helen thought of it more as a place to pile outfits than something to sit on.
    “Are you awake for real or just visiting for a sec?” Claire asked. Even in the bleached predawn light coming through the window, Helen could see the worry in Claire’s eyes.
    “I’m awake, Gig.” Helen sat up painfully. “How long have I been out?”
    “About two days.”
    That was it? To Helen, it felt like weeks. She looked over at Ariadne, still sleeping. “Is she going to be okay?” Helen asked.
    “Yeah,” Claire answered, sitting all the way up. “She and Jason are going to be fine.”
    “Orion? Lucas?”
    “They’re all right—beat up, but getting better.” Claire looked away, and her brow furrowed.
    “My dad?”
    “He’s been awake a couple of times, but only for a few seconds. Ari and Jason are doing their best.”
    That wasn’t the response Helen had been hoping for. She nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat. Her father wasn’t a Scion, and he’d come closer to death than any of them. It was going to take him a lot longer to recover. Helen pushed the thought that he might never fully recover out of her mind and looked at Claire.
    “How are you?” Helen asked, seeing the sad look on her best friend’s face.
    “Wicked tired. You?”
    “Starving.” Helen swung her legs out of bed, and Claire got up to help her. The two friends wobbled downstairs together to raid the refrigerator. Even though Helen knew she had to eat as much as she could shove down in order to help her body rebuild itself while she healed, she couldn’t take her eyes off Claire.
    “What is it, Gig?” Helen asked quietly after swallowing only a bite or two of chicken noodle soup. “Is it Jason?”
    “It’s all of you. Everyone got hurt this time. And I know that this isn’t the end of it,” Claire answered, still uncharacteristically sad. “There’s a war coming, isn’t there?”
    Helen put her spoon down. “I don’t know, but the gods are free to leave Olympus and come to Earth again. Because of me.”
    “It’s not your fault,” Claire began defensively. “You got tricked.”
    “So? Tricked or not, I failed,” Helen said in a matter-of-fact way. “I let Ares corner me, even though I’d been warned that something was going to happen.”
    She felt horrible, but she knew she couldn’t allow herself to wallow in guilt, so she kept the self-pity out of her voice. The Underworld had taught her that indulging in negativity, no matter how justified, would never solve any of her problems. She filed that revelation away for some other conversation with Hades and got back on topic. “Have the gods appeared anywhere yet? Have they done anything?”
    The image of a big, beautiful stallion running down a beach flashed in Helen’s head. There was blood on his forelegs. The image made her shudder with revulsion.
    “We haven’t heard anything,” Claire said with a shrug. “At least, no wrath-of-the-gods stuff.”
    “What has Cassandra foreseen?”
    “Nothing. She hasn’t made any prophecies at all since the three of you were brought back here.”
    Helen pursed her lips together, lost in thought. Just when the Scions needed an Oracle the most, of course, she’d be silent. That’s the way Greek drama worked. Still, it bothered Helen. Greek or not, there still had to be a reason Cassandra couldn’t see the future. “Because it’s ironic” just wasn’t a good enough answer for Helen anymore.
    “Len?” Claire asked, her voice a frightened whisper. “Can you stop the gods?”
    “I don’t