↳ chapter fifteen ₊˚.༄
[# all that glitters isn't gold]
EMPTY DREAMS ALWAYS LED TO BAD MORNINGS, AND THIS ONE WAS NO DIFFERENT. Coach Hedge's screaming wasn't the exact interruption to her slumber (in fact, she once slept through an entire hour of basketball games at her old school) but instead, her panicked friend had grabbed her hand out of impulse as she fell to the floor, dragging Iana down with her, did.
The two of them probably looked like a mess, given the sprawled out strands of hair and the lack of a hairbrush for the pass few days. They rolled over next to each other. Iana was fully aware of the room now bathed in sunlight and the fact that they were still holding hands as the satyr continued his screaming. "Ahhhggggggh!"
"Coach is awake," Leo said.
"Thank you, captain obvious." Iana shot him a tight lipped smile as she willed herself to stand up (she was never much of a morning person).
Coach Hedge was capering around, swinging his club and yelling, "Die!" as he smashed the tea set, whacked the sofas, and charged at the throne.
"Coach!" Jason yelled.
Coach Hedge turned, breathing hard. Iana was afraid he might attack them by accident, given how wild his eyes were. The satyr was still wearing his orange polo shirt and his coach's whistle, but his horns were clearly visible above his curly hair, and his bottom half was definitely all goat.
"You're the new kid," Coach Hedge said when he noticed the blond boy, lowering his club. "Jason." He looked at Leo, then Piper and Iana, and she could've sworn he was squinting his eyes at their intertwined hands.
"Valdez, McLean, Hwang." the coach said. "What's going on? We were at the Grand Canyon. The anemoi thuellai were attacking and—" He zeroed in on the storm spirit cage, and his eyes went back to DEFCON 1. "Die!"
"Whoa, Coach!" Leo stepped in his path, which was a brave feat, even though Coach Hedge was six inches shorter. "It's okay. They're locked up. We just sprang you from the other cage."
"Cage? Cage? What's going on? Just because I'm a satyr doesn't mean I can't have you doing plank push-ups, Valdez!"
Jason cleared his throat. "Coach— Gleeson— um, whatever you want us to call you. You saved us at the Grand Canyon. You were really brave."
"Of course I was!"
"The extraction team came and took us to Camp Half-Blood. We thought we'd lost you. Then we got word the storm spirits had taken you back to their— um, operator, Medea."
"That witch! Wait— that's impossible. She's mortal. She's dead."
"Well, her patron brought her back to life." Iana informed him.
Coach Hedge nodded, his eyes narrowing. "So! You were sent on a dangerous quest to rescue me. Excellent!"
"Um." Piper got to her feet, holding out her hands so Coach Hedge wouldn't attack her. "Actually, Glee— can I still call you Coach Hedge? Gleeson just seems wrong. We're on a quest for something else. We kind of found you by accident."
"Oh." The coach's spirits seemed to deflate, but only for a second. Then his eyes lit up again. "But there are no accidents! Not on quests. This was meant to happen! So, this is the witch's lair, eh? Why is everything gold?"
"Gold?" Jason repeated, though it was more of a question.
From the way Leo and Piper caught their breath, it was safe to assume neither of them had noticed their peculiar surroundings. The room was full of gold— the statues, the tea set Hedge had smashed, the chair that was definitely a throne. Even the curtains— which seemed to have opened by themselves at daybreak— appeared to be woven with golden fiber.
"That's why it was glittering..." Iana muttered to herself, remembering the faint glow she saw around her that night.
"Nice," Leo said. "No wonder they got so much security."
"This isn't—" Piper stammered. "This isn't Medea's place, Coach. It's some rich person's mansion in Omaha. We got away from Medea and crash-landed here."
"It's destiny, cupcakes!" Hedge insisted. "I'm meant to protect you. What's the quest?"
Before any of them could decide if they should explain or just shove Coach Hedge back into his cage, a door opened at the far end of the room.
The sight wasn't something Iana thought she'd see outside of a movie. A pudgy man in a white bathrobe stepped out with a golden toothbrush in his mouth. He had a white beard paired with one of those long, old-fashioned sleeping caps pressed down over his white hair. His eyes fell onto the five strangers in his house and he froze in his steps, the toothbrush falling out of his mouth.
He glanced into the room behind him and called, "Son? Lit, come out here, please. There are strange people in the throne room."
Coach Hedge did the obvious thing. He raised his club and shouted, "Die!"
Jason rushed over to hold the satyr back, but it was clear his strength wouldn't be enough to do so. The rest of the group ran over to help, linking their arms through the coach's arms and torso as they held him back before he could do anything irrational again.
"Whoa, Coach!" Jason warned. "Bring it down a few notches."
A younger man charged into the room. He must've been Lit, the old guy's son. He was dressed in pajama pants with a sleeveless T-shirt that said cornhuskers, accessorize with a sword in his hands. His ripped arms were covered in scars, and his face, framed by curly dark hair, would've been decent enough for the eyes if it wasn't also sliced up.
Lit immediately zeroed in on Jason like he was the biggest threat, and stalked toward him, swinging his sword overhead.
"Hold on!" Piper stepped forward, trying for her best calming voice. "This is just a misunderstanding! Everything's fine."
Lit stopped in his tracks, but he still looked wary. It didn't help that Hedge was screaming, "I'll get them! Don't worry!"
"Maybe they're friendly, Coach." Iana tried to reason, though she was doubtful he would listen to reason. "Plus, we're the ones who're trespassing in their house."
"Thank you!" said the old man in the bathrobe. "Now, who are you, and why are you here?"
"Let's all put our weapons down," Piper suggested and shot the satyr a look. "Coach, you first."
Hedge clenched his jaw. "Just one thwack?"
"No," Piper denied.
"What about a compromise? I'll kill them first, and if it turns out they were friendly, I'll apologize."
"No!" Piper insisted.
"Meh." Coach Hedge lowered his club.
Piper gave Lit a friendly sorry-about-that smile, and something about that small action made a bubble of jealousy start in Iana, since her best friend still looked cute in her two day old clothes and messy hair and decided to give a smile to a man that gave the creeps, out of all people.
Lit huffed and sheathed his sword. "You speak well, girl— fortunately for your friends, or I would've run them through."
"Appreciate it," Leo said. "I try not to get run through before lunchtime."
The old man in the bathrobe sighed, kicking the teapot that Coach Hedge had smashed. "Well, since you're here. Please, sit down."
Lit frowned. "Your Majesty—"
"No, no, it's fine, Lit," the old man said. "New land, new customs. They may sit in my presence. After all, they've seen me in my nightclothes. No sense observing formalities." He did his best to smile, though it looked a little forced. "Welcome to my humble home. I am King Midas."
"Midas? Impossible," said Coach Hedge. "He died."
They were sitting on the sofas now, while the king reclined on his throne. Tricky to do that in a bathrobe, and Iana worried the old guy would forget and uncross his legs. Lit stood behind the throne, both hands on his sword, glancing at Piper and flexing his muscular arms just to be annoying and perhaps tick Iana off, given how often she's had to swat her hair to prevent it from turning red.
Piper sat forward. "What our satyr friend means, Your Majesty, is that you're the second mortal we've met who should be— sorry— dead. King Midas lived thousands of years ago."
"Interesting." The king gazed out the windows at the brilliant blue skies and the winter sunlight. In the distance, downtown Omaha looked like a cluster of children's blocks— way too clean and small for a regular city.
"You know," the king said, "I think I was a bit dead for a while. It's strange. Seems like a dream, doesn't it, Lit?"
"A very long dream, Your Majesty."
"And yet, now we're here. I'm enjoying myself very much. I like being alive better."
"Do you remember how you came back?" Iana questioned, feeling far more wary and cautious about the two men that stood in front of her. "Perhaps... with the help of a patron?"
Midas hesitated, but there was a sly twinkle in his eyes. "Does it matter, my dear?"
"We could kill them again," Hedge suggested.
"Coach, not helping," Jason said. "Why don't you go outside and stand guard?"
Leo coughed. "Is that safe? They've got some serious security."
"Oh, yes," the king said. "Sorry about that. But it's lovely stuff, isn't it? Amazing what gold can still buy. Such excellent toys you have in this country!"
He fished a remote control out of his bathrobe pocket and pressed a few buttons— a pass code, most likely.
"There," Midas said. "Safe to go out now."
Coach Hedge grunted. "Fine. But if you need me..." He winked at Jason meaningfully. Then he pointed at himself, pointed two fingers at their hosts, and sliced a finger across his throat. Very subtle sign language.
"Yeah, thanks," Jason said.
After the satyr left, Piper tried another diplomatic smile. "So... you don't know how you got here?"
"Oh, well, yes. Sort of," the king said. He frowned at Lit. "Why did we pick Omaha, again? I know it wasn't the weather."
"The oracle," Lit said.
"Yes! I was told there was an oracle in Omaha." The king shrugged. "Apparently I was mistaken. But this is a rather nice house, isn't it? Lit— it's short for Lityerses, by the way— horrible name, but his mother insisted— Lit has plenty of wide-open space to practice his swordplay. He has quite a reputation for that. They called him the Reaper of Men back in the old days."
"Oh." Piper tried to sound enthusiastic. "How nice."
"How very nice," Iana mimicked through gritted teeth, noticing how Lit's smile contorted into a cruel sneer in her eyes. She was starting to wish their satyr coach hadn't left the room.
"So," Jason said. "All this gold—"
The king's eyes lit up. "Are you here for gold, my boy? Please, take a brochure!"
The group looked at the brochures on the coffee table. The title said GOLD: Invest for Eternity.
"Um, you sell gold?" the blond asked.
"No, no," the king said. "I make it. In uncertain times like these, gold is the wisest investment, don't you think? Governments fall. The dead rise. Giants attack Olympus. But gold retains its value!"
Leo frowned. "I've seen that commercial."
"Oh, don't be fooled by cheap imitators!" the king waved him off. "I assure you, I can beat any price for a serious investor. I can make a wide assortment of gold items at a moment's notice."
"But..." Piper shook her head in confusion. "Your Majesty, you gave up the golden touch, didn't you?"
The king looked astonished. "Gave it up?"
"Yes," Piper said. "You got it from some god—"
"Dionysus," the king agreed. "I'd rescued one of his satyrs, and in return, the god granted me one wish. I chose the golden touch."
"But you accidentally turned your own daughter to gold," Piper remembered. "And you realized how greedy you'd been. So you repented."
"Repented!" King Midas looked at Lit incredulously. "You see, son? You're away for a few thousand years, and the story gets twisted all around. My dear girl, did those stories ever say I'd lost my magic touch?"
"Well, I guess not. They just said you learned how to reverse it with running water, and you brought your daughter back to life."
"That's all true. Sometimes I still have to reverse my touch. There's no running water in the house because I don't want accidents"— he gestured to his statues— "but we chose to live next to a river just in case. Occasionally, I'll forget and pat Lit on the back—"
Lit retreated a few steps. "I hate that."
"I told you I was sorry, son. At any rate, gold is wonderful. Why would I give it up?"
"Well..." Piper looked truly lost now. "Isn't that the point of the story? That you learned your lesson?"
Midas laughed. "My dear, may I see your backpack for a moment? Toss it here."
Piper hesitated, but she wasn't eager to offend the king. She dumped everything out of the pack and tossed it to Midas. As soon as he caught it, the pack turned to gold, like frost spreading across the fabric. It still looked flexible and soft, but definitely gold. The king tossed it back.
"As you see, I can still turn anything to gold," Midas said. "That pack is magic now, as well. Go ahead— put your little storm spirit enemies in there."
"Seriously?" Leo was suddenly interested. He took the bag from Piper and held it up to the cage. As soon as he unzipped the backpack, the winds stirred and howled in protest. The cage bars shuddered. The door of the prison flew open and the winds got vacuumed straight into the pack. Leo zipped it shut and grinned. "Gotta admit. That's cool."
Unfortunately, Iana agreed with him.
"You see?" Midas said. "My golden touch a curse? Please. I didn't learn any lesson, and life isn't a story, girl. Honestly, my daughter Zoe was much more pleasant as a gold statue."
"She talked a lot," Lit offered.
"Exactly! And so I turned her back to gold." Midas pointed to a statue. Placed in the corner was a golden statue of a girl, her youthful face still displayed through her frozen and shocked state.
"That's horrible!" Piper cried.
Iana stared at Midas with a look of fury, feeling disgust clawing through her throat. "You're a mad man,"
"Nonsense. She doesn't mind. Besides, if I'd learned my lesson, would I have gotten these?"
When Midas pulled off his oversize sleeping cap, Iana didn't know if she should've felt like laughing or throwing up. Because the old man had two fuzzy gray ears sticking out of his white hair, two long donkey ears.
"Oh, wow," Leo said. "I didn't need to see that."
"Terrible, isn't it?" Midas sighed. "A few years after the golden touch incident, I judged a music contest between Apollo and Pan, and I declared Pan the winner. Apollo, sore loser, said I must have the ears of an ass, and voilà. This was my reward for being truthful. I tried to keep them a secret. Only my barber knew, but he couldn't help blabbing." Midas pointed out another golden statue— a bald man in a toga, holding a pair of shears.
"That's him. He won't be telling anyone's secrets again." The king smiled. Suddenly, the image of a harmless old man in a bathrobe left her mind, as if it never existed in the first place. His eyes had a merry glow to them— the look of a madman who knew he was mad, accepted his madness, and enjoyed it, even relished in the feeling of being mad. "Yes, gold has many uses. I think that must be why I was brought back, eh Lit? To bankroll our patron."
Lit nodded. "That and my good sword arm."
Jason glanced at between the three of them. Suddenly the air in the room seemed much colder.
"So you do have a patron," Jason said. "You work for the giants."
King Midas waved his hand dismissively. "Well, I don't care for giants myself, of course. But even supernatural armies need to get paid. I do owe my patron a great debt. I tried to explain that to the last group that came through, but they were very unfriendly. Wouldn't cooperate at all."
Iana felt the weight of the dagger on her side become far more comforting than it had been mere minutes ago. "Who was the last group?"
"Hunters," Lit snarled. "Blasted girls from Artemis."
Unexpectedly, the entire room was filled with a light whiff of electrical fire and Iana couldn't help but look at Jason with worry.
"When?" he demanded. "What happened?"
Lit shrugged. "Few days ago? I didn't get to kill them, unfortunately. They were looking for some evil wolves, or something. Said they were following a trail, heading west. Missing demigod— I don't recall."
The name Percy Jackson came to mind. Her siblings had mentioned the Hunters were looking for him.
Midas scratched his donkey ears. "Very unpleasant young ladies, those Hunters," he recalled. "They absolutely refused to be turned into gold. Much of the security system outside I installed to keep that sort of thing from happening again, you know. I don't have time for those who aren't serious investors."
Jason stood warily and glanced at his friends. They got the message.
"Well," Piper clasped her hand, managing a smile. "It's been a great visit. Welcome back to life. Thanks for the gold bag."
"Oh, but you can't leave!" Midas said. "I know you're not serious investors, but that's all right! I have to rebuild my collection."
Lit was smiling cruelly. The king rose, and Iana placed her arm in front of Leo, who had sat beside her the entire time, in a weak attempt to protect him.
"Don't worry," the king assured them. "You don't have to be turned to gold. I give all my guests a choice— join my collection, or die at the hands of Lityerses. Really, it's good either way."
Piper tried to use her charmspeak. "Your Majesty, you can't—"
Quicker than any old man should've been able to move, Midas lashed out and grabbed her wrist.
"No!" Jason yelled.
But a frost of gold spread over Piper, and in a heartbeat she was a glittering statue. Leo tried to summon fire, but he'd forgotten his power wasn't working. Midas touched his hand, and Leo transformed into solid metal.
Just like that, her friends were gone. Gone. The people she had spent the last six months with, the people she had shared vulnerable and fragile moments with, gone, ripped away from her in one touch.
Midas took advantage of Iana's shocked state, grabbing her arm. The shock dissipated quickly and the short haired girl only had enough strength and time to force his grip away before turning into gold, the cool frost spreading across her body. The last thing she saw was Jason's face, full of fear as his final companion left his side.
author's note!
guys... can you believe that evermore is already half way done... what...
anyways school is literally so busy rn, i had like a stuco meeting yesterday and all of our projects are due this friday wtf
wml y'all, hope ur day is better than mine!! mwah, love youuu <333