Chapter 2

Fuck what Hollywood says; explosions suck ass.

There was nothing “cool” or “badass” about getting flung off your feet at full fucking force by a barrage of blinding flames and a kajillion degree heat. Especially when there’s flying debris and an English teacher-turned-snake bitch thing involved. That shit hurts! It’s like being stabbed a million times over by a billion little blades set aflame, or getting body-slammed by a wall of scorching metal before falling into a vat of molten lava. Special effects had nothing on this. Hell, they couldn’t even begin to convey just how painful it was to get caught in the crossfire of a blast like that. People died from this shit, for God’s sake. And—if you didn’t already know—death sucks ass, too! Who would be crazy enough to walk away from something that dangerous at such a close range? Not Thea, that’s for sure.

Oh, but that wasn’t even the craziest part of this goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation.

As she laid in the devastation, surrounded by stone chunks set ablaze and glass shards so small that they resembled crushed bits of shining crystal, there was just enough lucidity swimming through the turbulent currents of her brain to form a grand total of three clear and concise thoughts:

1. Her sadistic-ass English teacher was a goddamn monster in disguise;
2. Her best friend was a motherfucking wizard, wands and all; and
3. She was dying.

Since she was currently lying on her back, stuck staring up at the ceiling as it was blanketed in plumes of smoke, Thea had no way to take stock of any injuries the explosion may or may not have inflicted upon her. But the warm wetness seeping from behind her head and the numbing ache it brought along left little to the imagination. Her skull got cracked. She was bleeding out. And yet, despite her imminent demise or the fantastical horseshit that contributed to the expiration of her breathing subscription, the only thing her conked-out brain could steadily comprehend was the vaguely person-shaped silhouette popping into view. It was hard to make out who or what the figure was exactly, thanks to the black dots dancing across her line of vision like falling leaves. The only thing Thea could register about them were their eyes—as round and slender as a teardrop, devoid of any pupils or irises that could make identifying the figure any easier. They were simply pools of pure, shimmering pitch laced with flashing rainbows. The gaping void of space and all its stars condensed into two little orbs that made Thea feel as though her soul was being bared for all to see. They didn’t blink. They didn’t squint. Just silently peered down at her with the intensity of an owl watching their surroundings. It was hypnotizing, in a way. Almost…soothing. Her muscles and bones practically melted under that stunning gaze, easing the tautness from her body so that her eyes could flutter shut…

…only to snap open again with a gasp.

Thea was now back on her feet, standing not in the ruins of the Greco-Roman exhibit but rather before a pair of double doors, looming over her like marbled skyscrapers made of glimmering gold, sparkling silver, and burnished bronze. Etched into the otherwise smooth metal were intricate designs resembling tsunami-worthy tidal waves and rolling clouds as thick as SF fog on a particularly cold day. They glittered in the heavenly glow that surrounded Thea, shining as if they had been embedded with freshly-polished gems. One was conveniently ajar, leaving a crack wide enough for her to slip through without pushing either door all the way open.

After crossing the threshold, she was met with a wall-less room larger than anything she had ever seen or been in before. Onyx-black pillars shaped like a never-ending chain of infinity symbols lined the edges of the matching floor, each one standing several feet apart with nothing but empty space between them, towering so high that they disappeared into the misty expanse that surrounded the room on all sides. An expanse that was a kaleidoscope of colors caught between night and day—bright and rosy like the waking ether of dawn, yet dark and star-studded as the skies at midnight—spilling inside like rain-clouds rolling in. Across from Thea, situated at what she assumed to be the dead center of the room, was a collection of large platforms suspended in midair. They hovered several feet off the ground, elliptic in appearance and seemingly made from the same material as the double doors. Clusters upon clusters of figures populated the floating platforms, ranging from humanoid shapes to animalistic silhouettes. Around half of them wore clothes, styled either traditionally intricate or modernly chic. The rest were as naked as a baby straight from the womb, letting every last bit of them fly free without a crumb of shame. But the ones that caught Thea’s eye were the figures on the center platform—

“You wretched, misbegotten bastard!”

—who were up in each other’s business, all but screaming at the top of their lungs.

The one to the left was inhumanly tall and elvishly slender, with a heart-shaped face and long sheets of iridescent silk draped over them like an ancient Greek chiton. Starry freckles dappled their curvy body, twinkling against the rich ebony of their complexion. As far as Thea could tell, the figure didn’t have a pair of ears or a nose on their face—only moon-round eyes that were auroras pulsing with color, shifting between various shades and hues each time they blinked, and plump lips curled up in a snarl that bared just enough of their pearly whites so that the only a sliver of a fang could be seen. A set of smoky wings made of pure stardust adorned the star-spangled person’s back, snapped open and flaring out to its fullest extent. Platinum tresses whipped and curled around their head and torso in the nonexistent wind, reminding Thea of ribbons twirling around gymnasts as they danced across the mat. If you took a piece of the galaxy and molded it into a human-esque form, you would have the entity standing right in front of Thea. They were a starry night free of any light pollution; a bright and dazzling thing that snatched your breath away and left you reeling for words that couldn’t even begin to describe the ethereal sight before you. A rush of heat bloomed across Thea’s cheeks as she all but swooned, only pulled out of her reverie when Star-Spangled screamed again.

“Do you mistake me for a fool?” they spat, eyes quasar-bright.

Their misty feathers bristled, wings twitching in sync with their hand, which shot out and shoved a finger into the chest of the other person on the platform. They were a whole-ass titan compared to Star-Spangled, with obsidian skin so jagged and craggy that they looked like a living statue carved straight from volcanic rock. Gaping cracks overflowing with molten lava marred their bare body like fresh wounds, filling the air with smoke and steam. Their hands were the perfect size to crush boulders like bundles of grapes, tipped with glistening talons sharp enough to cut steel into tinsel-y strings. Orbs of hellish flames occupied the space where their eyes should’ve been, bursting out of their sockets and blending into the wild inferno that was the guy’s flowing mane and wickedly long beard. Their cobbled lips were twisted into a wry grin too tight to be genuinely amused, a throaty laugh rumbling deep in their chest. (Though, if you asked Thea, it sounded more like the growl of a guard dog than anything else.)

“Mistake?” Volcano-Dude echoed back, their tone a slow, velvety drawl. “What is there to misunderstand? Your accusations lack the weight necessary for me to regard them with any semblance of consideration.”

Star-Spangled scoffed, wings ruffling and finger pressing deeper into Volcano-Dude’s chest. “As if you ever considered anything other than your darling wife worth your time.”

Cracks were forming around their finger in hairline webs, spreading across the rugged surface in waves the longer Star-Spangled stabbed into them. If Volcano-Dude was remotely pained by this, Thea wouldn’t know. They simply shook their head at the other entity, standing firmly in place as they tilted their head to one side.

“Care is a privilege, sister dear,” Volcano-Dude said. “One that should not be thrown around so foolishly.”

They paused, gaze traveling down to the finger at their chest. With pursed lips, they grabbed Star-Spangled’s wrist with two fingers and pulled their—her—hand back.

“I shall not waste my breath over something as absurd as this.” Volcano-Dude shook their sister’s hand, laughing soft and quick. “After all, only a guilty man runs his mouth to prove himself innocent.”

“Even so”—Star-Spangled ripped her hand from her sibling’s (brother’s?) grasp, wings shooting up and surrounding the two in a cage of smoke and feathers as she did—“innocent men provide evidence that absolves them of the accused deed.”

Volcano-Dude crossed his arms over his bulky chest, eyes narrowed ‘til they were smoldering slits of piercing amber.

“Where, then, is your evidence to prove my guilt?”

The second those words left his mouth, Star-Spangled pulled back her wings with an echoing snap, folding them tightly behind her as if to hide them away. The light in her widening eyes faded, replaced by gaping pools of pure darkness, while her lips were set in a clenched scowl. Thea couldn’t help but flinch back. She sucked in a breath, a half-opened grimace twisting across her mouth as the rest of her face scrunched up in anticipation.

You didn’t have to be particularly observant to see the tension simmering in the room. It was evident in the fury flashing across Star-Spangled’s face and the irritation building up behind Volcano-Dude’s nonchalant front, in the bark that dominated every word she spoke and the cool tone his otherwise heated sentences took. But when you’ve been in enough fights, squared up with enough pissed-off kids, and handled enough annoyed-to-hell-and-back adults, there were just some subtleties only a (somewhat) expert in all things conflict-related could pick up on. And Thea was that bitch. She knew better than most what the next steps in this hot mess of a dance were going to be. Any second now, Star-Spangled was going to open up her mouth and scream her ass off about every little piece of “evidence” she had on her brother. In response, Volcano-Dude will yell his throat raw rejecting said “evidence” and throw in some cleverly-worded insults for good measure, all so the whole damn argument would escalate past the point of no fucking return. Everybody else in the room was either going to cash in their own two cents on the matter or try to calm the siblings down in an attempt to avoid things getting physical. All the while, poor Thea over here would be left to wonder how in the everloving fuck she managed to stumble across a godforsaken scene like this in the first place as she watched said shitshow go off the rails. Like, honestly, there was no way in hell that this was a real thing that was happening to her right now. No fucking way! This had to be some sort of insane fever dream caused by a near-death experience instead of the fucking flu. A full-on hallucination spurred from getting blasted by a freak fire-turned-spontaneous combustion. There was literally no other option, no other explanation that could be remotely logical or reasonable. Unless she was fucking mental, this had to be it. It had to be!

(…right?)

Luckily for the piss-poor shambles Thea called her sanity, a shouting match did not grace the room with its unholy presence. Despite the snarl on her lips, the fury smoldering on her tongue and threat lingering in her hands, Star-Spangled backed down faster than Thea could even blink. Her shoulders slumped, wings stiller than stone. Her scowl faltered, mouth slowly easing into a thin line. She was still glaring something fierce at Volcano-Dude—right in his goddamn eyes, no less—but the passion was gone. The anger had waned, replaced by something more tame. Something Thea couldn’t quite put a name to. (Exasperation? Dejection? I-wanna-fucking-slaughter-your-stupid-ass-but-I-lost-all-the-fucks-I-had-left-to-give?) Whatever it was, it had Star-Spangled turning her back to the guy and facing something off to her left.

“If it’s not you,” she said, her voice barely above a rasp, “then who else would have the gall to steal from me?”

Steal?

A chilling jolt shot through Thea’s spine, forcing her body to jump up and stumble forward. A thousands thoughts swirled around her head, screaming for attention the longer she mulled over them. Could…could this wack-ass dream be related to what Mrs. Drake was talking about before the explosion?

Volcano-Dude’s arms fell away from his chest, hanging at his sides with a small frown crossing his face.

“The same hellion that stole from me.”

Star-Spangled turned on her heel, the light returning in her eyes as a heavy silence filled the room.

“I-I—Wha—How—?”

She spluttered, opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, while her wings spasmed to the point that waves of misty feathers flew in every direction around her. It had Volcano-Dude taking a step back, smoothing out the scowl on his stony features ‘til a leveled glare remained.

“You are not the only one with a powerful relic worth stealing, sister dear.”

Star-Spangled’s wings were quick to return to their folded position behind her, right as a deep sigh slipped past her lips.

“This…this cannot be a—”

“Coincidence?” He snorted. “No, I think not.”

She shook her head again, hands curling up into tight fists at her sides. “Who would dare steal from two gods at once?”

Volcano-Dude turned his head, fixing his eyes on the misty skies up above.

“A dem—”

“Fuck!”

Thea winced, hands thrown up and palms pressed down hard against her ears. A crackling noise filled the air, drowning out Volcano-Dude’s voice as the room started to spin around, spiraling faster and faster until a haze of light and mist overwhelmed her vision.

What the he—?

In a flash, the strange room with Star-Spangled and Volcano-Dude melted away, replaced by a sprawling field of scorched gravel and snowy ash. Barbed spires of crystals that were either as pale as bleached bones or as clear as diamonds circled around the edges of the field, towering up high into the dark skies above before curling inward. A few feet in front of her was this huge dome made up of criss-crossing bars of straight electricity, spitting out white-hot sparks in sprays that created a barrier around the whole thing. It was a ball of blazing light, forcing Thea to lift up a hand and shield her eyes from the glare. If she wasn’t so focused on picking out every last detail of her surroundings, she would’ve missed the figure inside the cage in the process.

Kneeling on the ground at the center of the lightning dome was someone around her size, thin and almost skeletal, with skin the darkest black Thea had ever seen—deeper than ink and richer than sable, covered in psychedelic streaks (scars?) as bright as candlelight. A curtain of tightly curled locks covered their hanging head like a curtain of golden-white ringlets, tumbling all the way down to the ground. Chunky chains were wrapped around their wrists, looking more solid and crystal-y than the rest of the cage. They held their hands above their head, burning at their skin and turning the area around the makeshift shackles all bumpy and blistered. Trickles of what looked like molten pearls streamed down their arms like drops of blood. If that person was alive, Thea couldn’t tell. Their body was stiffer than the trunk of a tree. No heaving chest to indicate breathing, no writhing limbs to tip off the amount of pain they were in. They just…knelt there. Like a statue.

‘Thea…’

A voice, low and airy, drifted through the air. Despite the quietness of it, it was a gunshot in the dark—swift and sudden, enough to make her heart skip a beat and knock her down onto her knees.

‘Your time has come. The truth must be uncovered.’

Through squinted eyes, Thea glanced around the field, scanning every inch with a fierce glare worthy of a wolf on the hunt. Where the hell was that coming from?

‘Keep your eyes open, young blood. Lest you wish to be led astray by foes masquerading as allies.’

When she found herself staring back at the cage, the person inside finally raised their head.

‘Our time is up. Your friend needs you.’

A face, young and slightly gaunt, greeted Thea. Their gaze was razor-sharp. Piercing to the point where her stomach threatened to fall out her ass and drop six feet under.

‘Thea…’

A pair of opalescent eyes stared back. Full, pouty lips parted.

“Wake up.”