Titans of Chaos

Boreas raised us, I should say, in a second childhood. Either by magic, or by science unknown onEarth, we had been forced out of our original forms and made into children. Having robbed us ofour memories and homes, the Olympians held us hostage against uneasy peace with Chaos. Theplan would have worked, except that we adapted to human shape too well; the impersonation wasso perfect that normal human biology, normal emotions, began to grow in us. The plan wouldhave worked, except that we grew up.

The orphanage had been designed to contain monster cubs from Chaos: five children. It could nothold five adults, raised as human, with the dreams and ideals of humans, but armed with thestrange powers of adult chaoticists. We grew up. We wanted our freedom. By stealth and cunningand violent battle, we had won it.

And the first thing we did when we won our freedom was... Well, we took a cruise. (Come on.

Wouldn't you?)

We should have just fled to a desert island. All these humans were about to die, and it was ourfault.

My friends were about to die, and it was my fault.

I said to them, "Where are Quentin and Victor?"

Colin said, "Ma'am! They took off in a lifeboat, like you said!"

Victor had always been the one in charge, back at the orphanage, back when we were youngstudents together. (How long ago had that been? A week? Less?) He was the logical one,cold-bloodedly brave, dispassionate, determined. Somehow I had won the last show of hands, andthe group was now counting on me. So I had to be Victor.

So get a grip. Square your shoulders and start barking out orders. They don't have to make sense;they just have to get the group moving. Tell the troops the leader is leading. Say something.

So I said, "Vanity! Call your magic silver ship over to the other side of the liner. Once the three ofus are on your ship, have her find the lifeboat Victor and Quentin are in. If they haven't beencaptured already."

She could summon her ship by thought alone. The Phaeacian ships had neither pilot nor rudder,but understood the unspoken wishes of their masters, and sped as swift as winged falcons, swift asthought, to their destinations. Vanity had discovered the Argent Nautilus was her very own ship, aGreek trireme with painted eyes port and starboard, and she did not need to be aboard to givecommands to her.