Equilibrium

Chapter 41: Jackie's POV

Well here I am in the yeehaw state.
Yee-fucking-haw.
I scowl at the Texas sun, beating down hard on my back as Harper swoops to the dusty ground. A horse ranch? Really? Not exactly what I expected. It's an oddly peaceful location for demigods to lose a relic at, or for monsters to hide it away. So naturally, I distrust this place immediately.
I slide off Harper's back and stroke his feathers affectionately before approaching the front porch of the rickety green ranch house with white trim. Behind the house, to the left and right, I can see dusty fields, some with crops, others just fallow. A little farther to the left stretches a stream, trickling off somewhere through an orchard of some sort. Two separate pastures are on either side of the walkway I'm on, leading up to the dusty porch of the dwelling.
I pause for a second as a chestnut mare trots up to me and sticks her head over the edge of the lopsided, white washed fence in curiosity. I'm no Poseidon kid, but horses are gorgeous creatures. I give her neck a little pat before continuing up the walkway, already sweating bullets from being in the sun. That's when I realize I'm still wearing a sweatshirt.
Luka's sweatshirt.
When that realization hits me, I frantically tear it off my body, throwing it to the dusty ground and stomping on it for good measure. Dramatic? Yes. Do I care? Absolutely not.
I don't want to think about that kid. What he did, what he said, any of it. Last night I had cried for hours on Harper's back, but now I was just angry. And a little broken.
Luka had faked what I thought was turning into a relationship, he never even liked me, and by now he definitely hates me, if he didn't already before. I don't know what I had done to deserve any of that, but it's all bullshit, just like the rest of my life. I'm extremely hurt that I'd trusted him with all of my secrets and bitter that he had kissed me with zero meaning, but most of all I'm frustrated by the fact that I hate being alone on this quest. Two demigods on a quest was already pushing it, the normal number being three, but only one demigod was just plain unlucky. As of right now, I have zero idea whether Luka is trying to find another relic. I took Harper, so it's not like he has the ability to get anywhere very quickly. It's kind of up to me at this point, and the pressure is killing me. There's no one to back me up if something goes wrong, and that thought scares me. But I'd take that over having to talk to Luka again any day.
Scowling, I continue to trudge towards the porch, painfully aware of just how ripped and frayed my orange camp t-shirt is as the sun beats harshly against my bare skin through the tears in the fabric. Once I make it into the shade of the porch, I reach out a hand to knock at the dusty white door, but I hesitate. What if there's a monster guarding the relic? What if whoever owns this ranch is a murderer? Or just hates children? What if-
"Woah there," A man's voice with a thick southern accent rumbles from somewhere behind the house, "Almost done girl, better get you some water." I hear the clopping of hooves drawing closer and closer, and then I just panic. Grabbing the door handle, I find it to be unlocked, and I pull aside both the wood and screen doors before jumping into the house, shutting them quickly and quietly behind me.
That was close.
Who knows when the man will be finished untacking his horse? I'll have to make this fast. I dash through the house on my toes, trying to be quiet in case there's somebody else inside, but it appears to be empty. I keep my eyes peeled for some sort of key. That's apparently what Hermes's relic is, a key that can unlock any door. Kinda useful. Good going dad.
But there were zero specifics on what the key would look like, which was making this difficult. Keys are generally pretty small and plain looking, and I have no idea whether or not the relic will be similar or be super special and glow or something. I'm hoping for the latter. I search the single floored ranch house as thoroughly and quickly as I can, but to no avail.
Zero. Keys.
Great, that's just great.
I hear the squeaking of the screen door and stare in horror as the door knob jiggles.
The man is back.
Looking around frantically, I notice a door and head through it, shutting it tightly behind me, and I'm immediately plunged into darkness.
I slap a hand over my mouth and try to quiet my breathing as the heavy clunk of footsteps near the door. I only breathe easy again when they pass and fade into the distance. Letting out a little sigh of relief, I run my hand along the wall, looking for a light switch. I find it, giving it a flick, but nothing happens. Oh well, I should've seen that coming. I reach for my backpack to pull out Demeter's torch, but I come to a sickening realization.
I don't have my backpack.
My breathing gets a little panicky as I try to wrack my brain for where I left it, but then it hits me.
Luka.
I fucking threw it at Luka.
"Oh gods no. No no no-" I curse, pulling at my hair in frustration. No backpack doesn't just mean no light. It means no food, no water, no sleeping bag, nothing. All I've got is myself, my shotgun, my sword, and Harper. Not. Good.
I try to take a deep breath and steady myself, then feel my way down the staircase I'm standing on in the dark, down to the basement. I know I've reached the bottom when I touch down on concrete, cool, drafty air sending goosebumps over my skin. It's pitch black down here, except for a flickering light to my right.
Light seeps through the crack of a door, and I make a beeline for it. Somehow, I manage not to trip over anything in the dark, and come face to face with the door. I feel around for the doorknob, smiling in victory as my hand closes around the cool metal. I turn the knob, cautiously edging the door open, cringing as it lets out a loud creeeak. The room has no signs of human life, so I step inside, shutting out the dark behind me. I blink a few times, eyes adjusting to the light. When the little dots clear from my vision, I sweep my gaze over the dimly lit room.
Candles, some tall, some short and stumpy, are placed all over the room, dripping wax and casting everything in a warm, yet unsettling glow. Shadows dance along the stone walls in the flickering candlelight, eerily beautiful. Rickety shelves line the walls, covered in dust and cobwebs. Some are filled with books, their pages crumbling and yellowed, while others house bottles and gems, all twinkling in the dull light. An old lantern sits at a round wooden table at the back of the room, unlit. The table is covered in old papers, ink bottles, and quills, all coated in a fine layer of dust.
Hesitantly, I head over to the table, blowing the dust off of it. It rises in a cloud and I swat it away from my face, coughing. My eyes catch on a massive book hidden beneath the crumpled up papers. Gently, I slide it off the table and hold it up, tenderly wiping dust off the leather cover.
It has no words, just golden designs etched into it, shining dully in the flickering light.
I stalk to the center of the room with the book in hand. That's when something beneath me catches my eye. I crouch on the ground, running my fingers over the jagged stone.
I curse as my finger catches on a particularly sharp spot and slices into my hand, blood dripping onto the stone floor. I press my finger against my shirt to stop the bleeding. It's not a bad cut, it's just stings.
Then my attention turns back to the floor. Dark purple marks, so faint I hadn't noticed them the first time I had stepped into the room, fan out in a circle around me. It's not exactly a pentagram, but it's something of the sort. Some kind of sigil?
Weird. This is like some shit you'd see in a weird sci-fi horror movie. Demons and cults and witches and other made up stuff.
Shrugging it off, I stand up, suddenly remembering the book in my hand.
I open it, and on the inside of the cover, a name is scrawled in Ancient Greek, faded ink barely legible.
Αμαραντη
"Amaratha," I breathe, pondering the name aloud. I definitely don't recognize it.
A shiver runs up my spine, and I frown in unease. Something's not right.
There's a sudden whoosh of air, and all the candles are snuffed out. I whirl around in a circle, dropping the book. My hand goes to my blade, and I unsheathe it, pointing it around in the darkness that envelops me.
I jump as I hear the sound of a match, whipping around towards the sound. There's a hiss as the old oil lamp splutters to life,giving off a feeble glow. In the dim light, I make out a shadowy figure standing in the center of the sigil, which is now glowing a deep purple. A tall, hooded figure with long, white hair, towers in the center, dark purple and black mist swirling around her ominously. A twinkling silver light glows like a beacon against her dark robes. A shimmering silver key, hanging from a necklace of twine.
At that moment, I'm only able to process two things.
One: This woman has the Hermes relic.
And two: I've seriously fucked up this time, and now Luka's not here to save my ass.
Then the stranger speaks, pulling back her hood, revealing her dark, definitely not human, amethyst eyes.
"You called?"