"What?" They both asked at the same time.
Strafford looked in Dropper's direction. "His life."
*****
XXIV. Hector and Theseus
"Do you guys really shoot stuff with those?"
The twins froze on their rooftop perch, disbelieving that anyone could have actually caught them spying on everyone from where they were sitting. They had taken special care not to be seen and in the weeks they had been in Adel, not one mortal eye had.
Until now.
Slowly, they turned to see who had discovered them.
"What the––" Hector started to say.
It was Benjamin Clever.
He was a small boy of eight with chocolate brown hair and round brown eyes. He was skinny and kind of frail, even in his thick coat, but carried the same hidden charm in his smile as his big sister. He was cleaner and neater than any child should be and Hector felt a bit ashamed. His clothes had more wrinkles and stains than the kid's.
Benjy approached them, his small feet not making a sound. He wedged himself right between them and began eating from a bag of jelly beans.
The twins shared a look over his head. Both of them said the same thing: We're screwed.
"Well?" Benjy said, "Do you guys really shoot stuff with those?" He pointed at their bows and arrows.
"Um, we try not to," Hector said, still not believing this was happening.
"Then why do you have them?"
Hector glanced at Theseus, who shrugged. "I said, we try not to shoot stuff with them. But sometimes we have to."
Benjy seemed to accept this, and to the twins' relief, didn't ask why.
"Are you coming to school with me again tomorrow?" He questioned Theseus instead.
Theseus almost choked on the gum he'd been chewing. "You know I follow you to school?"
"Yup," Benjy replied casually. "You're the janitor. I tried to tell mom that the policemen didn't have to come with me to school anymore 'cause you would be there." He dropped his head. "But she just thought I was making up stories again."
Theseus spit out the stupid gum. "You like to make up stories, Benjy?"
He shook his head. "I don't make them up. Jelly bean?" He held up the bag. The rising tension made both twins grab a handful.
"So what kind of stories do you like to tell?" Hector asked.
"They're not stories!"
Hector held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, lil' dude. Chill out." He thought for a minute, remembering that he was dealing with a little kid. He was going to have to use a little psychology. "Parents never listen, do they?" He asked, ready to try anything.
Benjy shook his head. "Never," he grumbled.
"They always think they have all the answers."
"And that you have none!"
"And they always think you're too young to know anything," Theseus added, catching on to what Hector was trying to do.
"Yup! My mom never believes anything I tell her," Benjy complained, "Not even when I told her Chloe was okay because you guys were keeping her safe."
Hector coughed up a jelly bean. "What? You told your mom that?"
"Yeah. But she just started crying and told me to go to bed. I didn't though. It wasn't even my bedtime yet."
Hector could not find any words to respond with. So Theseus tried his hand. "Benjy, do you know what we are?"
The little boy nodded. "You're demigods, right? Like Hercules?"
Theseus could barely see straight. "Right," He mumbled, and stuffed more jelly beans into his mouth.
"Did you tell your mom that we were demigods?" Hector found his voice.
Benjy's nose wrinkled. "No. She wouldn't believe me. She doesn't think I know nothing."
Ha. He knew too much. Way too much.
"How do you know about demigods?" Hector asked.
"From my Hercules pop-up book," Benjy said simply. "Mom said dad used to read it to Chloe before he ran away. It's mine now. Chloe doesn't like books with pictures anymore."
"Okay, but how did you know we were demigods?"
"Oh, your orca."
Hector's face contorted with confusion. "Our what?"
"Your orca, you know," Benjy stuffed more beans into his mouth, "the light that glows around you."
"Oh! Our aura…" He gave his brother a shaky glance. He had no idea they even had such a thing. It was clear neither had Theseus.
"Do you see a lot of people who have auras around them?" Theseus asked Benjy.
"No. Just you."
Just them? "Then how did you know what we were if you've never seen us before?"
Benjy sighed impatiently. "I told you already, your orca."
This conversation was going nowhere. It appeared that the kid had just happened to know what they were when he saw them. But that didn't make any sense. How could he just know?
"Is Chloe really okay?" Benjy asked, "I don't want to tell my mom that she is anymore if she isn't."
"Chloe's fine," Hector replied. "Tell your mom she's fine."
"And is she a good Oracle?"
The twins gaped at the little boy. Hector relieved him of the entire bag of jelly beans and dumped a bunch in his mouth. "How did you know your sister was the Oracle?" Theseus asked.
"My mom would say you two got too much wax in your ears," Benjy said, taking back his bag of chewy colored candy, "I always knew Chloe was an Oracle. Her orca was white. Yours is blue."
Theseus couldn't believe his ears. "What other kinds of things have you seen before, kid?"
Benjy chewed and thought on it a minute. "My old bus driver was a cyclopes."
"What?"
"And when we went camping last summer, I saw a key--mare--a," He took his time pronouncing, "in the woods. I told Chloe, but she didn't believe me. She doesn't think I know nothing either."
Hector was stunned. He knew creatures of Myth, like Chimeras, roamed the mortal world, but they were hidden from humans by the gods' essence. Weren’t they?
"Is that all you can see? Demigods and monsters?" He questioned.
Benjy shook his head and looked up at him with wide eyes. "No," he said, "I can see everything. Even that." He pointed.
Sure enough, in the far distance, the black obelisks of the Delphic Chateau gleamed above the clouds.
Hector and Theseus locked eyes. Their twin telepathy told them they were both thinking the same thing.
Throughout history, there had only been one other mortal besides the Oracle who could look up into the sky and see the celestial world in all of its divine glory.
They looked down at Benjy, then back up at each other. He had to be one of them. No other explanation fit.
They had to tell the others––now.
Hector fumbled in his pocket, pulled out a drachma and held it up towards the sky. "Iris, goddess of the Rainbow!" He called out. "We need you!"
*****
XXV. Chloe
The only way out of Spritewood, otherwise known as "Nymph Valley", was to cross it without dying and come out on the other side.
Easy, schmeezy, right?
They spent two days trekking through the beautiful, sprawling valley and still only managed to clear a fourth of it. After scurrying down the side of the mountain like a bunch of goats, they'd met an Orestiad, a beautiful mountain nymph named Maia, who turned out to be Hermes' mother and the guardian of the forest. She'd given them her blessing and had pointed them in the right direction, but not before covering Swindle with kisses and telling him how he'd become such a big boy. She even kissed Bill. Ace swore he would never live it down.
Spritewood was called “Nymph Valley” for a reason. Ace had been practically beaten to death by an angry Dryad, a forest nymph, after he had broken one of her tree limbs trying to procure a piece of fruit. It was strange. Ace hadn't even seemed upset at the beat down and Chloe found out later that Ace had a thing for Dryads and had even dated one before. Men, she thought.
Dropper picked a bouquet of flowers for her and she nearly had a heart att
ack when little flying flower nymphs, Faeriads, came bursting out of them in a drone of high-pitched chatter. They laughed as she fell against him, clutching her heart. His arms wrapped around her and they just stood there, staring into each other's eyes while little nymphs flew around their heads. Who knew how long they stood there before she had the good sense to check to see who might have seen them. Of course, Strafford had been watching the entire thing while he leaned up against a tree, arms folded, glare deadly. Dropper had taken his time releasing her, eyes twinkling, smile smug. She had simply laughed it off and excused herself, playing it cool like she hadn't been totally thinking about what it would be like to kiss Dropper. Strafford didn't buy the act and she knew it.
A small tributary with emerald crystal-like waters, was home to a group of Naiads, river nymphs. As they walked alongside it, Swindle almost dove in headfirst after a couple of Naiads tried to tempt him with flashes of wet skin and promises of a night filled with his greatest underwater fantasies. Ace had simply taken him by the collar and dragged him away. Seemed Swindle had a weakness for Naiads.
The trees of Spritewood had wills of their own and each seemed to find the group of them as they walked and let their limbs give them shade when they passed under the great woods. Meal breaks sometimes turned into duels where Strafford usually displayed how being born a Prince made him the superior swordsman. Ace and Swindle were no pushovers, but they were simply no match for Strafford. She and the Dropper cheered them on and kept score, for every Touché, or hit, earned them points. Whoever wasn't dueling would try to explain the rules to her, which were much like fencing with a few obvious exceptions, like you were allowed to kill your opponent. She was glad no one tried to exercise that rule, but she eventually got confused with the multiple explanations and gave up trying to learn them all together. It only irked her a little bit that they never asked her to duel with them.
They lived off of fruit and herbs, drank from streams of cool, clear water and camped out under the stars at night, using cotton soft patches of grass as beds. To her annoyance, Strafford always kept his distance from her during the night. Fine with Dropper, who kept her company in his place. They spent many dark hours playing childish games with Ace and Swindle that included "Which part of the sky is Dropper from?" and "How many stars do you think Dropper is made up of?", both of which made Swindle very frustrated that he didn't have any answers to them. Half of the time he would go off alone and study the sky trying to discover what he could about the mysterious constellation they had come to know as the Dropper. But he always returned not having learned anything new, making Chloe ache to find the next clue to the prophecy.
On day three, the weather turned bitter cold––from spring to winter in a matter of hours. It caught them off guard and they quickly realized they were underdressed and having left the few clothes they'd had buried in Corinth, they were stuck in just the clothes on their back.
Strafford had immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders and sent warmth from his own body radiating through her. She was grateful and wonderstruck that he had such an ability, but it still left the others as victims to the elements. Strafford would never touch Dropper on purpose for any positive reason and wrapping his brother or Swindle in his arms was just queer, so they were left to suffer. But after a few hours of slugging through the building snow and icy winds, she could see it was finally wearing them down. They might not have been simple mortals like she was, but they weren't invincible and they were going to freeze to death if she didn't help them. So she decided to try something. Something that she was sure would piss Strafford off when, and if, he found out about it.
Apollo! She shouted in her mind, pushing her thoughts outward, opening her mind, hoping her patron could hear her. There was a long reply of silence where not even the Fates made a sound or responded to her in any way. Chloe felt her heart sink.
She had been sure of her mind's ability to talk to Apollo from wherever she was in the universe. The Fates had told her that she could let him into her mind whenever she wanted, and now was that time. She had felt her mind becoming more powerful, she could feel the strength building up inside of her head. She was starting to understand some of the images she saw. She was starting to put names to faces and exact locations to places. However, it seemed she had overestimated her power too soon.
But then, ever so faintly, as if he were waking up from a long, deep sleep, she heard Apollo speak. Yes?
She wanted to jump for joy. We need your help, my lord. We're in Spritewood, there's a blizzard, we're freezing, and I don't think we're gonna last much longer. Will you help us?
There was another string of quiet, and she almost began to believe that Apollo had changed his mind and had decided to ignore her. But then he said, I guess so. He paused and she listened, hoping he would give her a more definitive answer, but he didn't.
He totally switched it up on her.
I know that you possess the gift of future voice, Pythia.
She didn't respond. She could think of nothing to say that wouldn't reveal how much that freaked her out. She had a feeling he already knew anyway.
I've received your letter as well, He said, moving on, And I'm thinking about it. Then she felt the pressure ease from her consciousness and knew that Apollo had checked out.
She might've been proud of herself if she wasn't freaked about Apollo knowing about her future voice. But she figured he'd probably always known and was letting her know that she'd been a fool to think he hadn't. So now that he knew, what did that mean? Were the Fates in danger now? Was she? Was there a punishment for trying to pull one over on a god? What if that god was your patron?
All questions with answers she didn't want to know.
Another three blizzard-filled hours passed before their help arrived.
"Och! Check this out!" Ace exclaimed. He had been leading the group through a tight thicket of snow-covered trees. Spotting something up ahead, he took off running.
"What the…hey! Wait for me!" Swindle exclaimed and sprinted off behind him, Bill flying overhead. Soon, they were all running to see what Ace had found.
"Thank the gods!" Dropper exclaimed as they emerged from the grove. Chloe bit her lip to keep from screaming with relief herself. Way to go, Apollo.
It was a cabin, logged and sealed in the corners with bricks. It had a timber wood porch surrounding three sides and a brick chimney spouting out puffs of smoke. Flickering light spilled out of the cabin's tiny windows, promising safety and warmth on the other side. The others whooped loudly and leapt up the porch stairs.
Strafford stopped her when she tried to follow them. "Why did you ask him for help?"
How did he know?
She tried her best to pull away from him, but he wasn't letting go of her arm. "It's cold," She snapped, "and it's snowing! We were freezing to death out there!"
"Bah!" Strafford grunted, releasing her, "They're demigods! They weren' gonna freeze to death, Red!"
That ticked her off. "I'm not a demigod! Dropper isn't a demigod!"
"So it's abou' tha' wanker, eh?"
"Jealous, much? And what's your problem anyway? You can't expect everyone else to hate your dad just because you do!"
He groaned and pulled her by the back pocket of her jeans as she tried to storm away. "This isn't abou' me and Apollo, Red. This is abou' you makin' decisions without askin' me first."
"I don't have to ask you for permission to do anything!" She tried to walk away but he yanked her back, this time cupping her bottom with his hand to keep her in place. If she hadn't been so flustered, she might've slapped him, but…
"You do need my permission, Red," he said, his face close to hers, "And if you'd consulted with me before you decided to ask a favor from a god without a tribute, I would've told you how stupid of an idea tha' was. Gods don't do anythin' without expectin' somethin' in return," He let his voice drop a level, "And now you're in a god's debt. And believe me, Red, Apollo will collect on it, and you'll be quest
ionin' whether the favor was worth it when it's time to pay up."
His words sunk in like a rock to the bottom of the ocean. It sounded like she had royally messed up this time. But what other option did she have? She hadn't been thinking of just herself when she'd summoned Apollo, but all of them and their survival. She felt responsible for their well-being in some way, even though they were the ones protecting her. Why should Apollo make her pay for helping them to stay alive? Isn't that what he wanted, them alive?
She would not even entertain the alternative.
The others didn't seem worried about the ramifications of being granted a favor from a god. They weren't sun children and no matter what Strafford said, she knew they had been freezing their butts off. They burst through the door of the little cabin and shouts of relief and excitement filled the air. When she arrived at the cabin's entrance, she understood why.
The cabin could have easily been a part of a five star ski resort. It was cozy and homely and a toasty fire was already ablaze in the cobblestone fireplace warming every inch of the hardwood refuge. There was a dedicated living space with leather couches covered in furs and a dining area with a long mahogany table and a bench on each side. There were stairs leading up to beds and repose, and the kitchen nook had stainless steel appliances and a refrigerator stocked full of food. It was raided as soon as it was discovered and Swindle chattered away about the giant feast he was now planning for dinner while grabbing several packs of beef jerky sticks for Bill.
There was a bookcase full of books for them to enjoy and paper, ink, and old-fashioned feather pens if they needed to write, paints and brushes if they felt the artistic itch. There was a cabinet full of medical supplies and a small armory of weapons behind a painting on the wall. Ace brought Strafford a bad-ass electric guitar he had found leaning against a statue of Apollo. Strafford admired it for a moment, then took it, picked out a few notes, stopped abruptly, handed it back, then walked away. Ace looked disappointed that his brother hadn't kept on playing and Chloe became convinced that Strafford was some kind of secret musical master.
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