by Melody Rose
“So, what’s the deal with Oliver?” I wondered, unable to stop myself from asking.
Ansel blew out a breath and hung his head. “Drama was cut my first year at the Academy. I had him my first semester, and his class nearly made me quit.”
“Quit?” I said, completely baffled. I’d never known Ansel to quit anything.
“Yeah, full-on abandon ship and lose my memories, all of it,” Ansel said, sweeping out his hands in a wide gesture. “I’m not a particularly emotional person. Or I guess, like I told you, I don’t like people controlling how I feel, and that’s exactly what drama class felt like. It messed with me, and I don’t have a creative bone in my body, so that didn’t help.”
“Your dad’s the god of music,” I pointed out. “You didn't inherit any of that.”
“Wouldn’t seem so,” Ansel said, resigned to the fact. “I just got the fire stuff.”
“And the good looks,” I said unthinkingly.
I realized what I had done and covered my mouth, embarrassment taking over my actions. “I’m sorry, I know we said not romantic stuff. Flirting probably counts too.”
Ansel snickered, clearly amused by mortification. “I’m okay with flirting if you are.”
“I mean,” I winced, “I think I already crossed that line.”
“Sounds good,” Ansel said with a smile. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m happy to be on the committee with you, but please don’t make me go meet Oliver.”
“I don’t want to go by myself,” I argued. “He doesn’t know who I am.”
“You’d be surprised how many people know who you are on campus,” Ansel said with a scoff. “Hephaestus’s only daughter, I mean, come on.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” I said pointedly. Then I released a resigned sigh. “Fine, it’s okay. You don’t have to come. I’m headed over to the instructor's house, though, so I’ll see you around?”
“See you around,” Ansel said, suddenly shy.
I walked past him, trying not to think too much about my words and actions during that previous conversation. There was nothing I could do about them now, so I didn’t want to beat myself up too much. But at the end of it all, I was happy. I was glad to spend this time getting to know Ansel, and it would be nice to have him on my side with no pressure to do anything I didn’t want to do.
Just as I was thinking this, there was a rustle of dying grass behind me. I turned to look over my shoulder and saw Ansel running up behind me.
“I wasn’t quite ready to leave you yet, so I’ll come to find Oliver,” Ansel explained. “Is that still okay?”
“Yeah,” I said with a smile and a nod. “It’s perfectly okay.”
17
We walked toward the south end of campus, where the trees were thickest. When we stepped through the trees, it was like stepping into another world. The sun glistened through the gaps in the branches and cast an orange-tinted light on the ground. Some leaves had already fallen, completed their season early, so there was a delightful crunch beneath our feet when we walked. Some lingering birds, not yet migrated south, chirped in the distance.
The trunks of the trees were thick and a deep brown, something out of a fairy tale. There was no clear path, so we navigated our way deeper into the wood without a clear sense of where we were going.
“Did Tené and Fiona tell you where to find him?” Ansel asked me as we ventured onward. He seemed to sense my hesitancy, though I made it rather obvious when I stopped every so often and looked around aimlessly.
“They wrote me this morning,” I said as I pulled the note out of my pocket. I unfolded it and handed it to Ansel. “They said to venture south beyond the treeline. If we went far enough, he would find us.”
“That’s immensely unhelpful,” Ansel commented.
“Exactly,” I said through pursed lips. “So, we’re just headed into the woods.”
“It’s strange,” Ansel said as he hopped over a thick root that jutted out from the ground dangerously. “I never took Oliver for the outdoorsy type.”
“What do you mean?” I wondered as I held out my hand for the note.
Ansel returned it. “I mean that he was always wearing expensive clothes, always tailored, always pressed. He looked like he never did an ounce of hard labor in his life. His fingernails were always clean.”
I paused and raised an eyebrow at my friend. “You noticed his fingernails?”
“He had crazy colors on them,” Ansel said defensively. “It was hard not to notice them.”
I shrugged and let him continue.
“My point is,” Ansel said, his voice sharpening, “it seems odd that he would be out in the woods like this.”
“Well, I’m following Tené and Fiona’s directions,” I said, “mainly because I have nothing else to go on. But don’t get me wrong. It has crossed my mind that they might be trying to kill me.”
“They’re not,” Ansel said, his voice full of complete confidence. “They’re Olympic Officials.”
“Yeah, because my track record with Olympic Officials is so great,” I said with an obvious amount of sarcasm.
Ansel caught up to me and walked alongside me instead of behind me in single file. The clearing was wide enough to accommodate two people. His hands brushed mine a couple of times but never made a move to reach out. I appreciated his restraint, though I could feel it rolling off him in frustrated waves.
“You have a poor track record with the General,” Ansel corrected in a low voice as if he was afraid of being overheard. “Not the rest of the officials.”
I rolled my eyes. “Same difference.”
“It’s not, and you know it,” Ansel said. “Tené and Fiona asked for your help, didn’t they?”
“Yeah, but only after they suspected me of starting this Love Struck contamination in the first place,” I grumbled, a sour taste coating my tongue as I thought back to that initial encounter with the daughter of Hermes and the daughter of Aphrodite.
“They what?” Ansel balked. He stopped in his tracks, too stunned by the news to continue.
“Oh yeah,” I confirmed. “They thought that because I was immune that I had started the whole thing. Because the daughter of Hephaestus has that kind of power over people.”
Ansel laughed, his voice bouncing off the bark and coming back to us in a series of echoes. “Hephaestus was never known for his people skills, that’s for sure.”
“Like father like daughter,” I said, self-deprecation hidden beneath my smile.
A silence fell over us then. I suspected that Ansel was thinking the same thing I was: my father was missing. No one had heard from him in two decades, which was highly unusual for a god. It’s not as though they visited the Academy regularly. While I still had never met a god, it was common for them to be in touch with the Military. Hephaestus was AWOL, and no one knew why.
Part of me reassured myself that he was a god. There was only a limited amount of serious trouble he could get himself in that he couldn’t get himself out of. So the more likely option was that he had purposely disappeared, hidden away from the demigods and the other Greek gods. The question, though, was why.
When I first came to the Academy, one of the promises I’d made myself was to meet my father. I needed to ask him why he abandoned me all those years ago. It wasn’t as though the other Greek gods made great parents. My friends often shared stories about the hole they felt at their absentee parents. But I was the only daughter of Hephaestus in generations. It wouldn’t have cost him very much to drop in for a holiday or two.
Not that I wasn’t happy with my mom. She was the only family I ever needed. She made my childhood, and my adulthood, awesome. It wasn’t perfect, but it was happy, whole. Honestly, until I found out I was a demigod, I never cared to meet my father. But the fact that his godliness had changed my whole life, launched it into magic and battles and monsters, yeah, you could say that I had some questions.
In an effort to distract mys
elf, I gazed up at our surroundings. I inhaled the musty scent of the woods, enjoying the familiar feeling that filled my belly. My memories traveled back to camping trips with my mom and the hikes we would take through various state parks. It was an inexpensive vacation that we could take together. Those trips held some of my fondest memories with her.
“What are you humming?” Ansel asked, interrupting my journey down memory lane.
“What?” I said unthinkingly. “I wasn’t humming.”
“Yes, you were,” Ansel said with a chuckle. “It went like this.”
Then, to my utter horror, Ansel began to hum the all too familiar tune. I recognized it instantly and groaned.
“Oh no, I wasn’t,” I said through gritted teeth and a grimace.
“Okay, now you have to tell me what it is,” Ansel insisted. “Especially if it embarrasses you this much.”
“Gods, I haven’t told anyone about this,” I said as I shook my head. “My mom and I… I can’t believe I’m doing this. You’re going to think it’s so stupid.”
“Everyone has those weird things from childhood they think are embarrassing,” Ansel assured me. “My family still bakes cookies for Santa every Christmas even though we’re all grown adults.”
I chuckled. “That’s not embarrassing. That’s sweet.”
“I bet yours is sweet too,” Ansel prompted. “Come on, tell me.”
I couldn’t ignore the encouraging twinkle in his eye, the curve of his lip as it perked up in a smile.
“Okay, fine,” I relented as I rolled my eyes. I swallowed before continuing. “My mom used to work at the Ren Faire, and she had this act where they would make up songs on the spot. It was always to the same tune. It’s our thing, making up silly songs to that tune. We do it all the time, but it started when we went camping, so walking through these woods reminded me of it. I must have just started humming.”
“Can you sing one for me?” Ansel asked, sincerity coating his voice.
“Right now?” I balked, my embarrassment showing in the flush in my cheeks.
“Yeah,” Ansel encouraged. “You said you make them up? Show me how you do it.”
I wanted to resist, to downplay the whole thing. Another part of me, though, liked the idea of sharing this part of me with someone. This side of me felt so separate sometimes from that part of me that lived with my mom. Maybe it would help to share some of that here in this part of my life. So I bit my lip and pushed past the regret and mortification. I began the tune over again.
“Oh la de dah de dah de dah, la de dah de dah
We’re walking through the woods,
Trying to find a weirdo.
It’s not the smartest thing
We’re ever gonna do.
But we really really need him,
Or so the Officials say.
After we’ve all be Love Struck.
Oh hell, it’s been a day.
Oh la de dah de dah de dah, la de dah de dah”
Ansel chuckled as I continued on. His smile brightened my mood and erased my embarrassment. I ventured into another verse, empowered by his amusement.
“Oh la de dah de dah de dah, la de dah de dah
I never thought I’d be here
With a famous dad
And some fiery powers.
That are really rad.
Being a demigod
Is really cool,
Until you meet a teacher
Who forces you to duel.
Oh la de dah de dah de dah, la de dah de dah”
“No kidding,” Ansel sympathized. “Can I try one?”
It took me a second longer than necessary to answer. I was so taken aback by his request. His eyes shifted down to the scattered leaves on the ground.
“I mean, it’s okay if you say no. I get it if you’re protective of you and your mom’s thing,” Ansel said, the words coming out in a rush.
“Oh no, I mean, it’s okay,” I said, matching his same speed. “I’ll even lead you in. Ready?”
“Sure,” Ansel said as he looked up, a grin breaking out on his face.
I clapped out the beat and started him off.
“Oh la de dah de dah de dah, la de dah de dah”
“I don’t think I’ll be good
At this goofy game,
But I’ll give it a good ol’ try,
Though it might lead me to shame.
Though when she sang the song
And smiled oh so wide,
I thought I might get her to laugh,
If I at least tried.
Oh la de dah de dah de dah, la de dah de dah”
My smile broke into fits of laughter. Ansel grinned right along with me, and soon both of us were sharing giggles.
“Mission accomplished,” Ansel said, with a twinkle in his eye.
“Well, aren’t you two sweet?” a voice came through the trees like a blaring wind.
Ansel and I crouched into battle positions, our bodies tensed and ready. The sun gleamed off a knife in Ansel’s hand. I didn’t even see him pull it out, and I sent him a curious look. Ansel didn’t even respond. His trained senses were honed in on the potential threat.
“They are sharing sweet songs,” a female voice crooned. Her voice bounced off the trees like the previous one. This one was light and sing-songy. “It’s so nice to see lovebirds together.”
“Lovebirds?” I mouthed to Ansel, unsure if the voice could hear me.
Ansel shook his head ever so slightly at me. His eyes narrowed as he tried to find the source of the voice. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to risk stepping on leaves and making more noise.
“What do you think they’re here for?” a third voice said, a curious lilt at the end of her voice, almost childlike.
“We’re here to see Oliver,” I called out, tired of this charade.
Ansel snarled at me, but I waved a hand at him, excusing his reaction. I continued on, thinking that this was the best way to address this whole thing. Also, common sense would dictate that we’d found who we were looking for.
“We were sent by the Olympic Officials Tene, daughter of Aphrodite, and Fiona, daughter of Hermes,” I added, hoping that a formal introduction would help. “I am Cheyenne, daughter of Hephaestus, and this is Ansel, son of Apollo.”
“Such a fiery couple,” the child-like voice said with a giggle at the end of her sentence, like she found her own lame joke amusing.
“Maybe they shouldn’t be in the forest,” the first female voice said, suddenly growing stern. “Their powers are threats to the wood.”
“I think they’re in control of their powers,” the male voice said casually. He paused dramatically and then continued. “It’s their chemistry that I’m worried about. If they get much closer, everything will catch on fire.”
A chorus of laughter, much more than three voices, rattled the surrounding air. It was like being in the center of the school cafeteria after dropping all of your food. It was mocking laughter, cruel and callous. It made my skin crawl, and my eyes squint.
“Oliver, son of Dionysus,” Ansel called, finally finding his voice. “We have a mission and need your help.”
A scoff echoed through the woods. “My help? Well, why didn’t you say so?”
Suddenly, on the other side of the clearing across from us, we saw a large figure materialize out of nowhere. He was a squat man with a protruding belly that swung his gait from side to side as he took a couple of steps towards us. His flat face was covered by a swirling black mustache that stuck out from his face and curled upward on the ends. His caramel bald head gleamed off the sunlight like a mirror. Draped around him was loose robes with a paisley design and a gold finish. He looked like he belonged in a palace rather than out in the woods like this.
“Oliver Patel?” I asked, though I was pretty sure this was the demigod we’d been sent to find.
Oliver bent surprisingly low in a bow with a flourish of his arms. The fabric moved around him like waves on the ocean as he bow
ed. He lifted his head only and smirked at me.
“In the flesh, daughter of Hephaestus,” he said, his voice the same as it was when it boomed through the trees, just a lot quieter. His brown eyes glistened with amusement. “To what do I owe the honor? You mentioned needing my help?”
“Yes,” Ansel said, stepping forward so that he stood between Oliver and me.
Slightly offended by this, I shuffled out from behind him so that I could be seen. I didn’t need protection from this fluff of a man and was insulted that Ansel thought I did.
“Ah, Ansel, son of Apollo,” Oliver said as he straightened up. He folded his hands over his belly, intertwining his fingers. “I am surprised that they sent you of all people to recruit me, considering our history.”
“I am here at Cheyenne’s request,” Ansel said, his voice low, boarding on threatening. He held out the knife in front of him, poised to strike at any time.
“I see.” Oliver blatantly disregarded Ansel by turning away from him. The son of Dionysus addressed me with a devilish closed-mouth smile. “And what can I do for you, Cheyenne?”
“We need to throw a party,” I started with the piece of information that I thought would be most interesting to him.
“A party?” the omnipresent female voices chimed in, unable to hide their excitement.
Whispers went up all around us, like a fierce breeze sliding through the trees. The force of their voices blew my red hair back from my face, and I slipped it around my ear to hold it in place.
“A dance, to be more specific,” I added.
“A dance?” the women chirped, sounding more like twittering birds this time, rather than a whirl of wind.
“Ladies, ladies,” Oliver called out. He turned his head this way and that so that he could address the surrounding area. The demigod held out his stubby arms and moved them about a conductor. “If you’re going to make so much noise, you might as well come out and introduce yourselves.”