❝ Does being a Child of Hermes automatically make you good at flirting? Or was that just a skill you picked up? ❞
Andromeda Jackson knew she was not cut out for the demigod life, and that was before she heard about her death from the creepy oracle i...
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𝖂hen I awoke, everything felt like it was burning. I couldn't even scream, or move, and I was panicking. My eyes darted around. I wasn't at home, I wasn't with Luke and instead, I was somewhere else. I was starting to wonder if I was dead, but for some reason, I don't think that involved this much pain.
I tried to push myself upright, my muscles trembling and protesting.
"Stay still," a girl's voice said. "You're too weak to rise."
She laid a cool cloth across my forehead. A bronze spoon hovered over me and liquid was dribbled into my mouth. The drink soothed my throat and left a warm aftertaste. Nectar of the gods. Then the girl's face appeared above me.
She was about eighteen, maybe, and had one of those faces that was timeless. She began singing, and my pain lessened. She was working some form of magic, letting the music sink into my skin, healing and repairing as it went.
"Who?"
"Shhh, brave one," she said. "Rest and heal. No harm will come to you here. I am Calypso."
∘☽༓☾∘
The next time I woke I was in a cave, but as far as caves go, I'd been in a lot worse. The ceiling glittered with different-colour crystal formations— white and purple and green, like a galaxy. I was lying on a comfortable bed with feather pillows and cotton sheets. The cave was divided into sections by white silk curtains. Against one wall stood a large loom and a harp. Against the other wall were shelves neatly stacked with jars of fruit preserves. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling: rosemary, thyme, and a bunch of other stuff.
My mother could've named them all.
There was a fireplace built into the cave wall, and a pot bubbling over the flames. It smelled great, like beef stew.
I sat up, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my head. I looked at my arms, sure that they would be hideously scarred from the burning, but they seemed fine. A little pinker than usual, but not bad. I was wearing in a white dress, that floated gently as I moved. My feet were bare. In a moment of panic, I wondered what happened to Riptide, but I around and sure enough, in the pocket of the dress, was Riptide.
Not only that but the Stygian ice dog whistle was back in my pocket, too. Somehow it had followed me, which didn't exactly reassure me.
With difficulty, I stood. The stone floor was freezing under my feet. I turned and found myself staring into a polished bronze mirror.
