The Cult of Kronos Read Free Page A

and his almost
permanent smile was nowhere to be found. He swayed uneasily on the
spot, and Zach could tell from the way he flexed his fingers and
shuffled his feet, just wanting to run at full speed and never stop.
“What is it?”
    “ I—Frank—we…” It was
not like Lewis to be at a loss for words.
    “ Did something happen to
Frank and Devon?”
    Lewis shook his head. “Frank’s
mother works the nightshift at the hospital,” Lewis said. “There
was an accident. They brought them in last night. Dr. Davis is dead.”
    June stood up fast, knocking
Zach forward. “That’s not funny.”
    “ I know it’s not,” Lewis
said. “I just ran down to Mercy. There are police everywhere. It’s
a murder investigation.”
    June’s face twisted into a
grotesque mimicry of herself. She grabbed Zach’s t-shirt and
pulled. Zach wrapped her in his arms, his chin resting on her head as
she began to cry. Lewis sat down on the sidewalk, finally letting
himself lose control. “I have to tell the others,” he gasped, his
voice broken by tears. “It’s my job to tell the others.”
    Zach stared at the pavement,
trying to force the moment to feel real. He felt guilty, feeling numb
while the two most important people in his life fell to pieces. His
eyes stared ahead, watching Lewis’ shoulders quake. The humid
summer air distorted everything ahead of them, and a little black
bird trilled screechily from the shrubs behind them. His mind darted
back to the postcard they had received in March—the threat that had
come with no follow-up.
    Murder. That only meant one
thing for members of The Pantheon. Another Titan had arrived. Kronos.

“ Either with it or upon it.”
    -Spartan Motto

    iv.

    He was wearing the armor of
Achilles
    when Hector had met him on
the battle field.
    The renowned warrior blamed
himself as he
    set flames to the pyre.

    And as the tendrils of
flame licked the timbers
    and consumed the body of
his closest friend,
    Achilles swore to enact his
vengeance on
    Hector, prince of Troy.

“ Oh, if I had Orpheus’
voice and poetry
    with which to move the Dark
Maid and her Lord,
    I'd call you back, dear love,
from the world below.
    I'd go down there for you.
Charon or the grim
    King's dog could not prevent
me then
    from carrying you up into the
fields of light.”
    -Euripides

    IV.

    A doctor was needed to declare
her dead, but everyone knew the truth before the ambulance had
arrived. An old colleague had called Jason Livingstone the moment the
ambulance had brought Celene's body in.
    There hadn't been time to find
a babysitter, and so Jason had arrived with his three children in
tow. The call had been cryptic, a “sir, are you an acquaintance of
Dr. Celene Davis?” and a “we need you to come down to Mercy
tonight. There's been an accident.” Jason had driven faster than he
should have in the rain. The reflections of the traffic lights and
the street lamps and the garish neon signs of gas stations blended
into a chaotic mix of colors that made it hard to see the lines on
the road.
    Haley, Jamie, and Scott had
been excited to go on a late night adventure, but now they were
asleep, propped up in awkward and uncomfortable positions on the blue
waiting room chairs, cheeks smushed up against the plastic arm rests.
When the nurse came out to find him, she was accompanied by a cop.
Beneath the buzz of a dying fluorescent light, the police officer had
shown Jason the contact card from Celene's wallet; despite the fact
that he had ended his relationship with Celene in March and severed
all ties with The Pantheon, it listed him as Penny's emergency
contact. Celene Davis didn't have any family in the country. And now
she was dead.
    Jason
saw himself, in his mind, collapsing to the floor in fits of sobs.
Instead he stood steady, all expression vanishing from his face. He
wanted to kick over the empty gurney in the hall and scream, but he
just stood there, listening and nodding in response to the officer's
questions. After