The Prince's Tower. In Strafford's own bedroom. In Strafford's own bed.
With him lying beside her.
His bed was massive, the sheets so soft she could swear they were silk. The four-poster canopy overreaching the bed was like another ceiling, treated mahogany with muted skylights. The black drapes edged in Greek-style trim were drawn open, but the stylish window drapes were not. Still, the room seemed bright. Maybe it was the flashing metallic in the silver walls. Or maybe her sore eyes were just overly sensitive from being closed so long.
Strafford's eyes met hers as they drifted upward and landed on his face. She had been sleeping cradled in his left arm, his right arm tucked behind his head. When he realized she was awake, he cradled her face in his hand.
"Chloe..." He breathed.
She found her voice, though it was weak and scratchy. "Y-You said my n-name..." It was like trying to talk while being choked. Her chest hurt so much. "No die…" Her only comfort right now, was Strafford’s scent. It was the only thing keeping her from screaming out.
"No." He smoothed the hair out of her eyes with a soft stroke, "No die." And then he just stared and didn't speak for a long time.
The next sound she heard was Dr. Life entering the room, looking as pretty as ever in a flowered sun dress and her lab coat. Strafford reluctantly made way for her by gently rising and letting her sit next to Chloe. She smiled when she saw that Chloe's eyes were open.
The doctor looked her up and down, and it was only then that she realized her torso had been wrapped tightly in gauze. Underneath the comforter, she had on shorts, but that was it for clothing.
"You look like you could stand another dose of laurel," Dr. Life said, reaching into her pockets and pulling out a small jar of green leaves. Chloe eased her lips apart and the doc gently laid a leaf on her tongue. She cringed as it hurt to chew the leaf, which tasted like maple syrup. Life assisted her in washing it down with a little water from a glass on the nightstand.
"How's she doing, Doc?" Strafford asked, leaning against the bed post. She noticed now that he was dressed rather preppy. A gray Hermès polo shirt and tan khakis, so not his style, but nice nevertheless.
"Don't worry, Prince. She's going to be just fine." Dr. Life smiled and held up the jar. "Apollo's personal supply." She returned the jar to the pocket of her lab coat and began a physical examination. "You gave us quite a scare there, missy. The dagger missed your heart by less than a centimeter. If it wasn't for the koma, you wouldn't have survived such an attack. The Graces usually don’t let their vic––" Dr. Life saw Strafford's face and passed on the comment. She patted Chloe's hand. "Well, let's just thank the Fates that you’re okay."
Chloe coughed and grimaced from the pain in her chest. The Fates! she thought. She had no idea if they were still with her or not.
We will never leave you, Pythia.
“Trophy!” She coughed again. “You're here!”
Yes, Pythia, LaLa came in, We made a promise, remember?
And we always keep our promises, Madame Cee added.
“I almost...” Died. She had almost died.
But you did not, Trophy said. Let us just say I conveniently misplaced my scissors.
She hurt too much to laugh. “I love Strafford. I want...to be with him.”
I know.
“Is...Is that okay?”
What does your heart tell you?
It wasn’t just her heart. But her mind and every bit of her Oracle’s Intuition.
She had fallen desperately in love with Strafford Law.
And because of that, the kingdom was indeed...doomed.
"Ace and Swindle have been askin' abou' you," Strafford said, breaking into her thoughts, "They've been wantin' to see you, but I told 'em if they came anywhere near you before I said they could, I would choke the life out of both of 'em."
She managed an infinitesimal smile. "I-I want to s-see them." The laurel seemed to be easing some of the pain, though not enough for her liking. The spot where the dagger had pierced her still throbbed.
"You're looking much better now so I'll get them for you," Dr. Life said, standing and looping her stethoscope around her neck. "They have been spending a great deal of time with me down in my lab. Ace is developing quite the knack for advanced medical science, you know. He says he wants to create an anti-venom for Scorpion poison now." She smiled, but a second later looked startled. "Oh! I had better go. I left the laurel cabinet unlocked and Swindle is down there. I'll give them the key to the Tower!" Dr. Life gracefully, but hurriedly, swept herself from the room.
Strafford was back lying beside her within seconds.
"Ace, a gr-great healer," She said after a moment. "S-So c-caring and sweet."
"I'm sweet."
She cringed when she smiled. "Not really."
That made Strafford smile too as he gently cradled her against him. "Yeah, you're right. I'm rotten."
And suddenly, the room felt hot––too hot––like a furnace door had opened.
"Ah, bloody hell," Strafford grumbled as he shielded her eyes.
There was a flash of light, Strafford pulled his hand away, and Apollo appeared at the foot of the bed. He was as gorgeous as ever, dressed in a leather jacket and stonewashed jeans with his dreadlocks partially pulled back out of his face. His guitar (which she had learned was really his famous lyre) was strapped to his back. His image flickered and Chloe realized it wasn't really Apollo at all, but a 3-D hologram of him. She knew what she was looking at right away. Apollo's essence, personified.
"Well, don't you two look cozy," Apollo said, his expression unamused. He walked around to the side of the bed opposite of Strafford, whose arm had stiffened around her, right before he pulled away and sat up. Then he stood. It was obvious his father's presence made him uncomfortable.
"How do you feel, Pythia?" Apollo asked, ignoring his son's evident agitation.
"T-Terrible." She grimaced.
He cocked his head. "It hurts you to speak." His essence reached down and touched her neck, which she was surprised to be able to feel. When he pulled his hand away, she no longer felt like she was swallowing flames. "Better?" the god asked.
She nodded and her words came easier. "Why didn't you just heal me from the beginning and save me all this pain and recovery?" He was the god of Healing after all.
He shrugged as if it was no big deal. “I wanted you to suffer.”
She frowned. She hadn’t expected that answer. “But...why?”
“Because, how could you ever know honest pleasure, if you’ve never felt true pain?”
His smile said everything. He knew. How she felt for Strafford. That she loved him. And that her feelings for him meant it all would end. The heavens of Myth were doomed.
But that was what Apollo wanted, wasn’t it?
“Strafford didn’t do a very good job of protecting you. In fact, his attempt was pathetic.”
She almost sat up on that one, but the pain reminded her that she shouldn’t try and take on anymore of the divine for awhile. At least, not physically.
“Strafford has done everything he can to protect me and my family. You don’t know anything.”
“I know you’re lying in front of me with a hole in your chest from where a Grace meted out a lil’ payback.”
“Is tha’ wha’ you came here for?” Strafford snapped. “To point out how I’ve failed you?”
“Why would I do that, boy. The entire kingdom already knows of how you’ve failed me. This is about Pythia. And how you’ve failed her as a guardian.”
“Strafford’s never failed me!”
"Don't waste another word on him, Chloe,” Strafford said, “Besides...he's right. You almost died because I didn’ protect you. I let you down. And I’m sorry."
Chloe shook her head and said again, "You’ve never let me down."
Apollo’s voice cut in between them. "Nevertheless, Strafford has paid the price for his negligence. I do believe you will make it your ultimate purpo
se to keep her alive now, won’t you boy?" Apollo smirked and chills coursed through her. Strafford grabbed her gaze, but what she saw in it was very disturbing. Something wasn't right. A lot of things weren’t right.
Just then, Ace and Swindle came bustling into the room. They halted right inside the doorway when they saw Apollo.
"Uh, hey Da," Ace said, swiping at his graffiti tee while taking in his father's holographic form. "Doing a show right now?"
Apollo's essence flickered and nodded. "I am." And those were the only words he had for his son. He looked back at Chloe and issued a last statement. "Your value to me is unprecedented. And soon, you will know that.”
She already did. Gods, she already did.
He stepped away from the bed, turned and started walking away. "Now, I have to return to my forty thousand fans. We'll speak soon, Pythia, for, the time is now, or not at all." They all watched as he walked and slowly faded away into nothingness. There was loud rock music, a flash, then he was gone.
"I bloody hate him," Strafford spit out the second his father had vanished. Chloe had no words of comfort to offer him. Not this time.
"How are you, Chloe? We've been worried about you," Swindle said. He gently lowered himself onto a corner of the bed and dropped the hood to his eagle and snake rhinestone-covered pullover.
"Strafford threatened to gouge out our eyes if we came anywhere near you before you were feelin' better," Ace said, scowling at his brother. He leaned against the bed post he was drumming on.
Chloe managed a small smile. "I've been informed, though he left the part about the eye-gouging out."
"Do you need anything? Are you hungry? We could get Chef Petàl to whip you up somethin' really quick. We're havin' shrimp and scallop burritos for dinner back at the Chateau."
"I don't really have an appetite for anything right now, but I love seafood. Save me a burrito for later?"
"O' course." Ace smiled.
She looked back at Strafford, whose gaze hadn't left her face for one second. Calmer, he half-smiled when their eyes met. Even through the pain, his smile warmed the very core of her.
"Now for the bad stuff," She said, shifting around. The pain in her chest had reduced itself to a low hum. Just enough to remind her she’d been stabbed. "What happened with the Graces? I don’t remember anything after, the, well, you know."
The friends shared a look. "Nothing," Swindle said.
"Nothing?"
"Nope. Nothing. They just...disappeared.”
“I think because, they thought you were dead," Ace said. There was a brief silence. "We brought you right here and called on Dr. Life. By the time she showed up, you were already in a koma."
"But alive," said Swindle, "and that's all that mattered."
"But the next time we catch the Graces out in the open––"
"Okay, okay, you've said your bit," Strafford interrupted. "She needs to rest now, so get out of here."
"So soon?" She asked, only pretending to care. The more time spent alone with Strafford, the better.
"You need to rest, wan."
She nodded. "Thank you guys. For…well…everything. But especially for saving my life."
Ace smiled. "Tha's wha' guardians are for."
"Now, get out." Strafford pointed towards the door.
The two boys chuckled, circled their hearts with their fists, the gesture Chloe had given the ironic name the 'Prince's Honor', and got moving. "Feel better, Chloe. We'll come see you again tomorrow," Swindle said with a wave. "Oh I forgot! I brought you something." He came back and placed a jar in Chloe's open palm. "For the pain." He winked and the pair disappeared out of the room.
"Poor Dr. Life," Chloe giggled softly, holding up the jar of crushed laurel leaves.
Strafford rose. "Never leave children of Hermes unattended around anythin' of value." He grinned.
She put the little jar under her pillow for safekeeping. "Before you go," She said, "I have something I want to tell you. Come on, help me sit up."
He frowned and she rolled her eyes.
“I feel better now. The laurel’s working.”
Nothing.
"Get a move on, Irish, before it decides to kick in and I zonk out again."
Strafford chuckled and helped her into a sitting position.
"All right. Wha' do you have to tell me tha's so important?" He dropped back down onto the bed.
"I had a dream," She said, straining to remember every detail of it.
"You shouldn' be tellin' me this. For the last time, your dreams are sacred."
She groaned. "I know, I know. I'm not going to tell you the dream. Only what I know because of it." Strafford still didn't seem comfortable with that, but nodded.
She braced herself. "I think I know why everything has become so unstable in Olympus...and in all of Myth."
Strafford stiffened. "Why?"
"Because," she said. "From the birth of a young nation shall rise, a Pythia, with hair like fire and sapphire eyes, with mind and instrument to bring to Olympus great power as one, maybe earth, maybe water, maybe sky, maybe sun."
Strafford seemed bewildered, an expression that she'd never seen on him before. "Was tha' the GUP? The gods couldn' figure tha' out?"
She wished it was that easy. "It's only the first part. And I think the gods didn't understand it because, as crazy as it sounds, the Fates speak a language that is incomprehensible to them. Kismet."
His eyes narrowed. "Kismet can't be spoken…"
"It can," She insisted, "and the Fates did when they appeared before the gods two thousand years ago. That's why he could speak it. It's the only language it's ever been heard in."
She had just told Strafford more than she should have about her dream, but she didn't care. He needed to know.
He frowned, quizzically, not realizing it. "Who is he?"
She just looked at him.
Strafford closed his eyes briefly as he figured it out. "Apollo." His fists clenched. "So tha's wha' he meant. Wha' if she knows. Bah! He already knew you would. The bastard."
"What?" But Strafford just looked away and she wondered if he had been keeping worse secrets from her than she had from him.
"There's more," She said, worried all the more now.
"Well? Give it to me then." He was still looking away, his fingers massaging his temples.
She sighed, thinking of her dream. "I think the Fates prophesied a new king for Olympus. For Myth. Maybe earth, maybe water, maybe sky, maybe sun." She paused, letting it sink in. "I believe it's sun. Apollo. That's why it was Apollo in my dream and the reason the prophecy is in Kismet. None of the gods can decipher it, not even Apollo, and that's the point. It was meant for me. I'm the only one in the last two thousand years who has been able to understand it when it's spoken and the Fates already knew this would be the case. And as the prophetic god, so did Apollo."
She waited on the Fates to confirm or deny, but, nothing.
Strafford was staring at her like she had just turned into an Empusa before his eyes. "This can't be true," He said, "You must've interpreted somethin' wrong…"
"I've seen it, Strafford."
Strafford was on his feet, pacing. He did so for several minutes. "So tha's the war you were talkin' abou' in your chantin', not a war with Hades, as I’d assumed, but with Apollo. Tha's wha' you meant abou' history repeatin' itself. Kronos defeated his father, Uranus. Zeus defeated his father, Kronos. Now Apollo will battle his father, Zeus. Tha's wha' it all meant."
She nodded. "Yeah, I think so." She still couldn't remember anything about the chanting in Corinth, but somehow she knew he was right.
He turned to her. "And you're the chosen Oracle tha' was born to help him do it, aren't you? Mind and instrument."
It was funny how he had managed to see the silver lining like she already had. "Yes…" But to hear it said out loud was so much worse.
"Okay. Let's say you're right abou' all of this. Let's say Apollo does want Zeus's throne. How does he plan to accom
plish tha'?" He questioned. "Does he think it'll be easy to defeat Zeus? Zeus is more powerful than any god before him or now, and he knows tha'. There has to be more to it."
She nodded. "I think there is, but I'm not sure what. I think this goes much deeper than what I interpreted. We need the rest of the GUP to know anything for sure, and only the Fates know how we're gonna find that out."
Strafford stopped pacing suddenly. His expression became hard as stone. "Tha's why he chose me."
She was puzzled. She had no idea what he was talking about. "Chose you for what?"
"Chose me to be your guardian, Chloe. He already knew I would accept. He must've seen it. It's all part of his plan." He dropped back onto the bed. "He knew."
She thought she should understand what he meant, but she didn't. "I don't get it. What did he know?"
Several tense minutes passed before he answered. "He knew, Chloe." He gazed at her with his intense gray eyes. "He knew I would fall in love with you."
An eternity came and went before she could breathe again. He held her gaze until her lips were able to whisper, "You love me?"
His answer was filled with certainty. "Yes. From the moment I saw you, I was finished."
"Honestly?"
"Bloody hell, wan. I would've thought you'd picked up on tha' already. I mean, how much more possessive does a man have to get over you?"
She couldn't stop the smile from appearing on her face. She couldn't slow down the thrill that zipped through her. She wouldn’t even allow herself to think of the girl in the locket and how he wore it still. Nothing would ruin this moment. "I love you, too," She said. "And I don't care about your disgrace or your past. You're honorable to me. I couldn't have done any of this without you. I now know what a true hero is by watching you be the guy you were born to be. And believe me, there's no shame in that."
After a moment, Strafford grinned. "Tha' means a lot to me, Chloe. Thank you." He paused. "I'm not blushin', am I?"
She laughed. "No."
"Good." He kissed her hand then said, "By the way, Apollo is using us."
She thought nothing could kill her joy, but that statement did. "What do you mean?"
"He knows tha' I'll die for you. He knows me and always knew I would. You're my everythin' now. He must've seen you in my future and knew I'd do anythin' for you. It's me and you, together, for always. Wha'ever your future holds, I'm gonna be there for it. Even if it means snatchin' the crown of Olympus off of Zeus's head. We'll do it together. This is wha' Apollo knows."
Prophecy of the Most Beautiful Page 35