by Linsey Hall
“That’s got to be Apollo,” I said. “I read that this city was kind of like his city. The temples were named after him and all that. So maybe we have to make an offering to him.”
Maximus nodded. “The Romans were really into this sort of thing. Probably took it right from the Greeks.”
“What do you suggest as an offering?”
“Money often does the trick.” He pointed to the bouquets. “Some flowers. Something that is valuable monetarily and personally is good, too.”
“Like a weapon,” I said.
“That’d be good.” He climbed off his motorcycle, and magic crackled briefly as he pulled a sword from the ether. It was finely crafted, with a beautiful hilt and a wicked edge. “I’ve always liked this one.”
He laid it on the stone in front of Apollo’s feet. I followed suit, conjuring one of my favorite daggers. The hilt had two little onyx stones inset into the head of a dragon. A bit of a personal joke, really, since I was supposed to be a dragon.
I put the dagger at Apollo’s feet.
The air changed immediately. Now that we’d both made a sacrifice, the protection charm on the archway disappeared.
“That did it.” Maximus strode through.
I followed, feeling no change in the air.
The ruins were completely silent. Even the birds weren’t singing in here. Only the wind moved, blowing gently through the space that possessed the kind of heaviness that I associated with ancient places.
Slowly, we walked up a central lane. Huge stone buildings had collapsed on either side. Here and there, statues peeked up, somehow still standing after years of neglect.
As we passed one of a huge warrior, magic prickled on the air. The statue held his shield and sword in front of him, ready to fight.
I shifted to look at him as we walked by, and magic surged from him. He leapt off his marble pedestal, and my heart jumped.
“Attack!” I shouted the warning to Maximus as I drew my shield and electric sword from the ether.
The marble warrior charged, swinging his blade. I raised my shield, and his sword crashed into it. My arm shook from the blow as I pivoted and swiped out with my blade, hitting him in the shoulder. It didn’t make a dent, and I danced backward.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Maximus fighting another statue. This one was even bigger than mine.
I turned my attention toward my attacker, feinting left and then going right, striking with my blade. It bounced off him again, and whatever magic protected him was strong.
His stone sword glanced off my arm, making pain flare. I stumbled backward.
Behind me, Maximus swung his sword with such force that the statue shattered into a dozen pieces. I’d landed several blows, but these guys apparently could only be defeated with godly strength.
The statue lunged toward me, swinging his blade. I dodged another blow, bringing my own sword up and slicing toward his arm. I gave it my all, but my sword made no dent. I felt the reverberations of the strike all the way up my arm, and winced.
“I’ve got this,” Maximus said from behind.
I darted left, clearing the path for him. He charged, all grace and fury. With one swipe to the warrior’s waist, he shattered the statue.
Panting, I spun in a circle, inspecting our surroundings. No other statues came alive.
“Holy fates, what was that all about?” I asked.
“Perhaps they protect the Oracle.” Maximus spun in a circle as well, checking out the territory.
“Let’s go, then, before any more come alive.”
We passed by a huge temple to Apollo that was still almost entirely intact, but I shook my head. “I don’t think the Oracle is in there. In my vision, there was a small round building with a domed roof.”
We kept going, passing by an amphitheater built into the cliff and a circular area made of dozens of columns.
“Is that it?” Maximus pointed to the right.
I turned, catching sight of a little round building. I smiled. “Yeah, that’s it.”
We hurried toward it, climbing over rocks and fallen columns, until we finally reached the entrance.
“It looks like it was built yesterday.” Awed, I ran my hands over the smooth stone of the exterior wall.
“People take care of it. Look here.” Maximus pointed to a deep crack in one of the stones that had been carefully mended. “The place isn’t really used anymore, but whoever lives nearby hasn’t let the temple to Apollo fall into ruin. Or the Oracle’s chambers.”
“Faith and knowledge, the two things people care about most.”
“And sports.”
I grinned, looking at him. “Fond of football, are you?”
“Not particularly. But if there’s one thing I’ve noticed about modern day, sports are even more of a religion now than they used to be. If this place had had a football field, it’d be in perfect condition, I guarantee it.”
I chuckled. “Ready to go in?”
He sucked in a breath. “Let’s meet the Oracle.”
Side by side, we stepped into the cool, quiet space. The only light came from the doorway, so it was pretty dark. I squinted, making out a round room that was entirely empty. The only interesting feature in the whole place was the deep chasm in the floor. Steam wafted up from it, smelling faintly sweet.
“Hello? Oracle?” I asked. “We’re looking for Atlas. We were told you could help us find him.”
“Begone, intruders!” The voice bellowed through the small space, bouncing off the walls and seeming to grow louder on the echo. “Begone, or I shall smite you!”
I winced, my ears ringing from the Oracle’s shouts. “We can’t leave. We need help.”
“Begone!”
“Should we make an offering?” Maximus asked.
I nodded. “Couldn’t hurt. Should we throw it in the chasm, do you think?”
“Throw it in my chasm!” the Oracle screeched. This time, she sounded female. And pissed off. “Don’t you dare throw garbage in my chasm.”
Okay, that was an odd choice of words. “We won’t! Will you come out and help us?”
“Will it make you leave me alone? And not attack my statues on the way out?”
“Definitely,” I said.
“Fine,” the Oracle grumbled.
In front of us, the air shimmered with a blue sheen. It grew darker and darker as a figure coalesced from the mist that rose up from the chasm. She was indeed female, and looked to be roughly eight hundred years old. She wore a velour track suit and sat in a ghostly armchair.
She scowled at us, her eyes bright. “You’re interrupting my stories. Now, what do you want?”
“You watch soaps?” I wouldn’t have pegged the ancient Oracle for a soap watcher.
“Of course I watch my stories. Who doesn’t watch the soaps?”
“I do, of course,” Maximus said. “I’m particular to All My Children.”
“That’s been off the air for years!”
“Older episodes, of course.” He delivered the line so smoothly that I bought it. And hey, maybe he did watch soaps, though I doubted it. Not much time for TV when you were pulling double duty at the Order and the Protectorate.
The Oracle grumbled. “I suppose it was fine, but I’m really more interested in General Hospital.”
“That’s a good one, too.” The corner of Maximus’s lip crept up, as if he were trying not to laugh. His shoulders convulsed just slightly.
Oh, shit. He was trying not to laugh.
“So, Oracle,” I said, hoping to distract her from the fact that Maximus definitely had no idea what he was talking about and that his charade was collapsing. “We were hoping you could tell us about Atlas. We want to help him, but we can’t find him.”
She shook her head. “Paranoid ninny, with his bolt holes and hidey holes and all the rest of it. Those gods sure did a number on him.”
“It sounds like the titans got a really raw deal,” I said.
“No, th
ey didn’t do well after the war. Atlas and Prometheus were the lucky ones. The rest of the poor bastards ended up in Tartarus.” She settled back, getting comfy. “Now, don’t get me wrong. A more murderous and dangerous bunch of evil giants I’ve never met. They should be locked up. But Prometheus and Atlas weren’t so bad.”
“Can you help us find him?” Maximus said. “We think he’s sick. We need to help him, like Dr. Quartermaine would do.”
“Now you’re speaking my language.” She got a dreamy cast to her eyes. “Ah, that Dr. Quartermaine.”
I waited a moment to see if she would finish her thought, but she just kept staring off into space, looking relaxed and happy. Hmmmm.
“We’d like to help Atlas,” I reminded her.
She snapped to attention. “Yes, yes. Of course. You will find a portal to his domain here, in Delphi. It is the circle of columns that you passed on your way to my chambers. If you enter it and say the name Atlas three times in a row, the portal will activate and take you to his fortress.”
“Thank you.”
Maximus smiled at her. “Enjoy your stories.”
“I will, dearie. You too.”
With that, we left the famous Oracle at Delphi and walked back out into the sun. As we headed toward the portal to Atlas’s domain, I peered up at Maximus. “Dr. Quartermaine?”
“General Hospital. Though honestly, I was just throwing out TV names and hoping something hit.”
“Really?”
“While I was learning about the modern world, I watched a lot of TV to figure things out.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Though for a while there, I thought modern people were insane. So much coming back from the dead and secret babies.”
“Yeah, they play that up a bit in the soaps.” I stopped in front of the circle.
Twenty columns reached toward the sky, each positioned to form a perfect circle. I reached for Maximus’s hand. He gripped mine.
Together, we stepped inside the circle and let the ether sweep us away.
13
The ether pulled us through space, making my head spin. When I arrived on the other side, I blinked, taking in my surroundings. We were still in the mountains, but it was weird.
There were enormous protrusions of rock sticking straight out of the earth, and one of them was wide enough to hold a fortress at the very top. The walls were perfectly vertical—it’d be nearly impossible to get in.
I groaned. “Fantastic.”
“It’s an excellent fortress. I have to give him that.”
“What do you want to bet we have to climb up?”
“I’m afraid I can’t take that bet. Atlas doesn’t seem like the sort of man to make things easy.”
“Nope.” I started toward the massive rock with the fortress on top. It was a few hundred yards away, and we had to pick our way over the hilly ground studded with rocks. The fortress looked silent and still. Not a single person to be seen on the high walls, not a sound to be heard. The setting sun gleamed on the pale rock, making it look more like a statue than a real place.
My comms charm buzzed around my neck. “Rowan? Are you there?” Ana whispered.
“I’m here. I can talk.”
“How’s it coming?”
“We think we might have found Atlas. We may be close to an answer about how to stop this.”
“Good. Because we have a problem. Cell phones have started to go out all over the world. GPS is having problems. We think the satellites are failing. We don’t have long before the military loses their connections, and war will start soon after.”
Shit.
It was Atlas’s job to keep the magic in space from screwing with that stuff. Did that mean he was dead?
Oh fates, please no.
“We’ll hurry,” I said. “Any luck with breaking through the barrier?”
“No, but Hedy has developed a bomb that can take out the entire barrier if we can get it inside the dome.”
“You can’t just throw it in?”
“It bounces off the boundary.”
“I could take it in. I’m the only one who can get past the barrier.”
“No, it will detonate soon after it leaves the power source. You’d die with it. Anyway, as long as the Stryx can call you to them, it’s too dangerous.”
“Okay, yeah, that’s a bad plan, then. I’ll see what I can figure out about the barrier and the Stryx. It’ll be soon, I promise. I’ll figure this out.”
“Stay safe,” she said.
“You too. Love you.”
“Love you.” She cut the line.
I looked at Maximus. “I hope we’re not too late.”
“We aren’t.”
“How do you know?”
He shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t. But I’d rather assume we’re not.”
“Sounds good to me.” We reached the base of the rock, and I tilted my head back, staring straight up. “It’s got to be at least three hundred meters to the top.”
Magic swelled around Maximus, and he conjured some modern climbing equipment. He handed me a harness, along with a length of rope and a bag full of something that sounded like metal bits.
He grinned. “Safety first.”
I peered in the bag, spotting a bunch of metal spike-like things and a hammer.
“Put on the harness and attach the rope to it. Every twenty feet, pound in an anchor and attach your rope to it. If you fall, you’re less likely to die.”
“Less likely to die.” I nodded. “Now you’re speaking my language.”
I put the harness on, and he helped me hook up the ropes.
Together, we began to climb. It was easy going at first, the slope more gradual near the bottom. I fumbled the first metal pin I tried to pound into a crevice in the rock, but got the hang of it eventually.
As we ascended, the wall became steeper, turning nearly vertical within about sixty feet. My muscles started to burn and my fingertips tingled.
“You’ve got it,” Maximus said.
He didn’t sound or look the least bit out of breath, and I’d have assumed he was a professional mountain climber.
About halfway up, I peeked down and nearly hurled. I’d never considered myself to be someone afraid of heights, but the world looked so far away from up here. The protection of the rope and metal pins seemed iffy when they were the only thing between me and certain death.
I sucked in a deep breath and looked upward.
Don’t think about it.
Hand over hand, I climbed. I focused only on the immediate task ahead of me. Climb. Find a handhold. Pound in the pin. Clip off the rope. Repeat.
By the time we reached the bottom of the fortress wall, sweat was dripping down my back.
“The fortress wall is too smooth to climb,” Maximus said.
“Atlas! Hey, Atlas!” I shouted. “We’re here to help you, but is there a door to this thing?”
There was only silence.
Damn.
I looked at Maximus. “What do you suggest?”
His magic sparked on the air again, smelling of cedar and sounding like the roar of a waterfall. A moment later, he held a weird-looking gun in one hand. A grappling hook and line protruded from the front.
“Nice.” I watched as he leaned far back and shot the thing toward the upper wall. It looked hard to get a good angle, but he caught the wall. “Where’d you learn all this stuff?”
“Did some time with a mercenary band when I first arrived in this century. Didn’t like the work they did, but I learned some stuff.” He yanked on the rope, testing it. “Let me go first. Once I’m at the top, I’ll secure it. Then you climb up.”
“What if it’s not already secure and you fall?”
He thought for a moment, then conjured another grappling hook gun and set it on a tiny ledge next to him. “Hopefully my harness will catch me, though I’ll be falling from pretty far. If I don’t make it, try again with this grappling hook.”
I scowled. “That’s a shit plan. You�
�re still dead at the end of it.”
“I think it will work. Trust me.” He grabbed the line trailing down from the hook and began to climb, his feet propped on the smooth fortress wall.
My heart lodged in my throat as I watched him. He was quick and graceful, but it didn’t make it any easier to wait while he risked his life.
Finally, he reached the top and swung a leg over. I listened keenly for any sound of an intruder alarm going off, but my new animal senses picked up nothing.
A moment later, he leaned over the ledge and called down, “Your turn.”
I nodded and grabbed the line, climbing as quickly as I could. My hands were sweaty, but I made it. Barely. By the time I swung my leg over the edge, I was tingling and light-headed.
My feet solid on the ramparts, I turned to Maximus. “Looks like I’m afraid of heights.”
“You did great.”
I smiled, then turned to check out the eerily quiet fortress. We stood on a wall that surrounded an open courtyard full of buildings. There were no signs of life—no plants or animals or people—and the buildings looked like they’d been abandoned for years.
“No one is here.”
“Let’s look around.” He pointed to our left. “There are some stairs.”
We hurried to the stairs and descended as quietly as we could. When we got to the bottom of the courtyard, I tilted my head, listening. “Hang on, I think I hear a heartbeat. It’s faint.”
“Atlas.”
“I hope so.” I started across the courtyard to a central building, following my ears.
It was a two-story structure built of rough stone with small glass windows. It had to be at least a few hundred years old, though my knowledge of architecture was iffy.
We were almost to the building when a small wooden door opened. A nearly skeletal man appeared. Though he was tall—well over six feet—most of his muscle had wasted away, and his eyes looked sunken in their sockets.
“Atlas?” I asked.
He stared hard at us for a moment, then nodded. “Come in.”