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Authors: Diantha Jones

Tags: #teen, #Fantasy, #Young Adult, #greek mythology, #mythology

Prophecy of the Most Beautiful (17 page)

BOOK: Prophecy of the Most Beautiful
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XII. Chloe

Chloe had a dream that night.

*****

"How dare she!" The thick, accented voice of a woman boomed. A white Persian cat who was resting on a fancy white and gold pouf nearby hissed savagely. The woman picked up a glass vase of very pretty, very red flowers, and smashed it into the white marble floor of her plush penthouse. The minuscule glass fragments scattered across the floor. The cat's hair stood on end as it scurried under a small gold table with lion paws for feet. Water had splashed the woman's tall, white heels and crisp white pants, but she didn't seem to care. In her fury, she jerked away from the young girl holding up her coal black hair, which was so long the woman was forced to watch where she walked so as not to step on it. It dragged the floor behind her as she paced furiously back and forth, seething with rage, but was careful not to trample her beautiful hair.

"And you are positive the information you bring me is true?" She spoke each word slow and deliberately. Her voice was old and regal, but her dark bronzed face was fresh and absolutely stunning. Her beauty could have brought tears to anyone's eyes, even to the eyes of those that envied such exquisiteness.

"Yes, my lady, the information is true," answered another young girl with long blonde hair separated into dozens of infinitesimally small braids. She was wearing a white biker bodysuit, as were the two girls standing behind her, with their braided hair and green eyes. The young girl turned her head slightly and winked at them. They fought back smiles as if the situation at hand amused them somehow.

"So I have been deceived," The woman fumed, her long hair still sweeping the floor as she paced, "She has taken that which was mine, that which still is mine! THAT WHICH BELONGS TO ME!!" She screeched, this time simply willing one of her precious vases to implode with just a look. Petals and glass exploded everywhere and her cat disappeared out of the room all together.

"My lady, if I may speak," The girl said, stepping forward. The woman was fuming, but gave her nodded consent as she swept her hair to one side and draped it over her arm in a single, graceful movement.

The girl continued, "We have discovered that the queen has not acted upon them yet. Therefore," She paused for just a moment as if to add emphasis to her next statement, to make it more enticing, "we can conclude that there is a chance that we will triumph first, my lady."

The woman looked at the girl sharply, her pure golden eyes sparkling like the diamond chandeliers that hung above their heads. A smile of wicked pleasure inched onto her face. She turned away from the girl and through the tall glass window of her penthouse, looked out over the brightly-lit city of Paris, France––Chloe could see the Eiffel Tower in the background. It was a beautiful sight at night with all of its glittering lights utilizing the dark sky as their canvas. The city seemed so alive, so full of emotion, so full of desire and passion. Chloe could tell the woman adored the city as she watched the lady look out over it with a certain longing in her eyes.

"Where is my son?" The woman asked the girl, not yet turning away from the view.

"He has sent a post saying that he will be arriving very soon, my lady."

"Good." The woman began to pace again, her heels clicking lightly against the marble. "I have a task for him. Hopefully, I can count on him to do as I require, though I would not wager a single ounce of gold upon him. He is quite the rebel, that boy." The girls remained silent as if they didn't dare agree. Chloe could tell the woman was very fond of her son by the way her golden eyes sparkled as she spoke of him, even as at the same time, she spoke ill of him.

"You will, of course, inform me of his arrival," The woman said, rhetorically.

"Absolutely, my lady." The woman waved her hand through the air, and the girls turned to leave.

"Oh, and Radiance?"

The girl called Radiance turned back. "Yes, my lady?"

"If my son fails in his task, I will still be able to count on you to bring the boy to me. Yes?"

"Of course, my lady."

The woman smiled. It was a deadly gorgeous smile. "And you will promise me one thing more?"

"Anything." Radiance said this without any hesitation.

"Promise me that you will––dispose of––anyone that gets in the way of our progress."

Radiance beamed as if she had just won the lottery. "My lady," She began with a low bow. She looked up from under her heavily-lashed eyelids, "It would be my absolute honor and pleasure."

*****

Chloe woke up with a start, her heart beating like a jack hammer. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and she could see Ace's silhouette sleeping soundly on his lounge by the door.

She didn't know how long she had been asleep or what time it was, as if time even mattered in this place. She felt groggy and unrested, but that wasn't something she was unaccustomed to. She rarely slept well and only the luxurious, out-of-this-world bed had caused her to drift off. She wished she hadn't even laid down.

But the day had been sooooo long. The first thing she'd done after getting the hell away from Strafford was getting lost inside the Chateau. No matter
what
he said, the palace was beautiful, but a frickin’
labyrinth
. Thank the gods for Mystic. The strange girl had found her at her wits end sitting cross-legged in a random hallway just waiting to be discovered. Mystic had giggled, then taken her to the courtyard, where Ace and the other demigods were chowing down on lunch.

She'd joined them, and what do you know, Strafford had shown (Hector had pretended to be overwhelmed with surprise to see him), but she had done all she could to ignore him. Yeah right. She'd done a terrible job of it, spilling not one, but
two
glasses of nectar juice and squirting ketchup all over her blouse. Luckily, black hid the stains well, but could do nothing for the red in her cheeks. Swindle had finally come to her rescue after her elbow had sent her lamb chop flying off of her plate and through the air like a boomerang, landing right at Bill's feet. While the hawk got busy on it, Swindle had led her into the maze and they'd sat around a pond of exotic fish
not
discussing her sudden case of the klutz or that Strafford had been staring at her the
entire
time.

Instead, he answered questions without her asking and told her that for demigods, Oracles were almost as important as the gods themselves. Yeah, the gods were pretty accessible to be deities, but were they open and cooperative? Hardly ever. Easy to get along with? Not one bit. Sneaky and underhanded? At every opportunity. But Oracles? They were the medium between, the one constant that could be relied on because the Fates didn't play games. Destiny was not a gambit to them, something they used as a distraction to pass through eternity. It was everything, the here and the was and the gonna be. It would only be once she realized just how crucial destiny and fate was to their world that she would understand her true purpose.

Sitting up in bed, she wondered now if this strange new dream was part of her understanding her purpose. She hated dreams. They never made any sense, and they always felt so…real. They were the reasons it had become so hard to distinguish reality from a hallucination. Why couldn't she just sleep in peace for once in her tortured life? Why did she even have to dream at all?

Dreams are important, Pythia.

Hearing the sudden voice made Chloe jump. She recognized the sharp trill as Trophy's.

"Please don't do that,"
Chloe thought,
"You scared the crap out of me."

After all of these years, I would have thought our sudden appearances in your conscious thoughts would no longer frighten you.

"After all of this time, I would've thought you would've told me what you were really doing in my head instead of letting me think I was crazy for six years. Guess we both thought wrong."

It appears we have
, said Trophy sharply,
Now, you were about to wish that you didn't dream anymore…

Chloe thought, "
Basically."

That's silly. Your dreams are everything. Now, more than ever, you cannot avoid them. You are the Oracle. Dreaming is vital. Your strong Intuition is consequential. Listen to them. They are everything.

"And that dream…"


was very important,
Trophy insisted.

"How?"

You alone must decipher its meaning, Pythia. We will be there to guide you, but we threaten our own existence if we interfere beyond reason. This is the way it has been done since the beginning of time.

"But I thought ya'll were the Fates. They said you know everything. You're the most powerful. Ya'll can do anything you want."
She paused for a moment. "
And you can still call me Chloe."

There is always a higher power to contend with. And Chloe is no longer your name.

She decided not to argue that.
"Fine, whatever. Now explain what you meant about the higher power."

Once we decide on a single soul's path, it is in their hands. Their actions and decisions will determine how they get there, but their destiny is already decided for them. Their destiny is transferred into their subconscious where it can execute itself. We cannot change it once it is there. It is the part of the mind that we cannot touch. If we attempt it, we weaken ourselves and our abilities to make firm decisions. We must be sure of the path we have chosen for you, therefore, we must not interfere with it after it has been decided, just like the godling Lenka said. We have chosen you as the Oracle, now you must make the right decisions to fulfill your destiny.

Chloe snorted.
"So what you're saying is, you can interfere, but you won't."

Not if we want to continue to exist. Faith in us will fade, as we will, if we are not sure of ourselves, and that just will not do. I like my existence and wish to keep on existing, thank you very much.

Chloe blew out a frustrated breath.
"How can you abandon me to do this all on my own?"

Abandon you? We would never do that. But you must see it from our perspective. It is simply something that we cannot do. We must not interfere beyond reason, our reason. Besides, you have all of Apollo's memories. I have been looking through them. They will be very helpful to you and I have all the faith that you will use them wisely. But you must make your way down your path on your own accord. It's the only way you will ever find the true meaning of being an Oracle. You must interpret this dream by yourself.

Chloe sighed, literally and figuratively.
"But it's so much. I don't even know where to start."

How about starting at the beginning? That's always a good place.

"She screams and throws a vase of roses,"
Chloe began, thinking of her dream.

Okay, maybe not exactly at the beginning,
Trophy yawned.
But I think I will leave you to figure it out. Sweet dreams await me.

"Voices sleep?"

Trophy laughed.
We are not voices, Pythia. We are goddesses and yes, we do need our rest sometimes. Deciding the course of each person's life is quite a job for the three of us. Maybe one day we will reveal to you why, but right now, I'm returning to my slumber.

"Okay
," Chloe was reluctant to reply, "
Good night
," and she heard no more stirring inside her head.

She sat back against the headboard, rubbing her temples. Since she had become the Oracle, it seemed as though her brain never stopped working. When she wasn't talking to the Fates, she was dreaming. When she wasn't dreaming, the Knowledge made her head so heavy she was sure she'd soon need a neck brace to help keep it upright. She had accepted her role as the Oracle, but wondered if it would be too bold of her to charge them for the overtime brain workout.

She tiptoed to the loo to relieve herself of the entire pitcher of nectar juice she'd managed not to spill at dinner. The food and drink here were fantastic. The cook, Chef Petál, was a master of the culinary arts and they ate gourmet for almost every meal. It was a luxury that she could definitely get used to.

Feeling the clamminess of a deep sleep, she bent to wash her face in the marble basin. The water was cool and fresh against her skin and she drank some to share the refreshing feeling with her dry throat. Eyes closed, she let the water drip from her face before fumbling around for her towel. She knew she had hung it up on its hook this time instead of leaving it on the floor for the servants to collect. She felt along the wall she thought the hook was on, but when she found it, the hook was empty. She came to the conclusion that she had the wrong wall and turned to head in the other direction.

She took a few blind steps.

And walked right into her towel.

And the hand that was holding it.

"Looking for this?" A young man's unfamiliar voice said.

Her eyes flew open, just in time to watch his fist slam into the side of her face.

She hit the ground
hard
. She was so stunned, she couldn't even scream.

Her face throbbed where he had hit her, but she was too dazed to feel any real pain. Scared, she struggled to stand up, seeing circles as she found her footing. She was assisted by the boy, who yanked her up by her night shirt and slapped her again. She stumbled, but didn't fall. He slapped her once more.

"What's a man gotta do to make you scream for him, baby?" She managed to focus in on the bastard who was beating her up. She was hanging onto a tiny thread of hope that Ace had heard the commotion, but she remembered how thick the door was and with Ace sleeping, the chances of him hearing were slim to none.

BOOK: Prophecy of the Most Beautiful
5.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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