❝why else love if not to feel stars exploding in our veins❞
⤷ butterflies rising
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Waking up to Calypso in her face was not the greeting she wanted.
"Get up!" The girl exclaimed, hitting her with a pillow. "It's been hours, get up!"
"Gods, Calypso," Kira grumbled as the ex-goddess threw the warm, soft blanket off of her. "Calypso!" She yelled, yanking the blanket back on.
Calypso rolled her eyes. "Just get up."
She strolled out of the room, and Kira groaned, stretching to try to get the sleepiness out of her veins.
Kira lugged out of the bed, the softest thing she had ever remembered being in. She changed into a University of Arizona sweatshirt (from Clarisse) and shorts. She threw the blanket around her.
In a mirror, she cringed when saw the tearstains on her cheek, evidence of her crying herself to sleep. Her cheeks were puffy, and she was reminded that was how she had woken up in the six months that Leo was gone.
She didn't want to break up with Leo. She wasn't even sure why she did, and she wanted to apologize, but she knew that they needed time, something that they didn't have. She had been impulsive, and now he was suffering as a consequence.
When she managed to get there, Apollo was sitting up, pointing weakly at Emmie.
"I—I had a dream. And you were there. And...the rest of you, not so much, but—"
"A dream?" Leo shook his head. "Man, your eyes were wide open. You were lying there all twitching and stuff. I've seen you have some visions before, but not like that."
Kira wouldn't meet his eyes, and Leo refused to look at her as well. He didn't look much better then her, his cheeks were also puffy and he looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept.
Maybe breaking up with her long term boyfriend that had just come up from the dead that was on a quest with her wasn't the best idea.
Apollo's arms were shaking. He grabbed his right hand with his left, but that only made it worse. Kira made her way to her friend, kneeling beside him, and holding his shaking hands. She knew what it was like to have flashbacks, and the shaking hands were no stranger to her.
"I—I heard some new details, or things I didn't remember from before. About Meg. And the emperors. And—"
Josephine patted his head. "You sure you're okay there, Sunny? You don't look so hot."
"I'm fine," He snapped. "Wh-what's going on? Calypso, you're already healed?"
"You've been out for hours, actually." Calypso raised her recently broken hand, which now looked as good as new, and wriggled her fingers. "But yes. Emmie is a healer to rival Apollo."
"You had to say that," He grumbled. "You mean I've been lying here for hours and nobody noticed?"
"Sorry, 'Pollo," Kira said sheepishly. She should have looked to make sure he was alright before Leo pulled her into the room last night.
Leo shrugged. "We were talking shop. We probably wouldn't have noticed you as soon as we did except, uh, somebody here wants to talk to you."
"Mmm," Calypso agreed, a worried look in her eyes. "He's been very insistent about it."
She pointed toward the rose window.
Their friend Agamethus, the headless ghost, had returned.
The ghost drifted towards the group.
His mood was difficult to discern, since he had no face, but he seemed agitated. He pointed at Apollo, then made a series of hand gestures—shaking his fists, lacing his fingers, cupping one hand as if holding a sphere. He stopped on the opposite side of the coffee table.
"'Sup, Cheese?" Leo asked.
Josephine snorted. "Cheese?"
"Yeah, he's orange," Leo said. "Why is that? Also, why is he headless?"
"Leo," Calypso chided. "Don't be rude."
"Hey, it's a fair question."
Emmie studied the ghost's hand gestures. "I've never seen him this worked up. He glows orange because...Well, actually I have no idea. As for why he is headless—"
"His brother cut off his head," Apollo supplied. "Agamethus was the brother of Trophonius, the spirit of the Dark Oracle. He..." He trailed off.
The others stared at him.
"His brother did what?" Calypso asked.
"How did you know that?" Emmie demanded.
"He wants the Magic 8 Ball," Josephine interpreted. "I'll be right back."
She jogged over to her workshop.
"The Magic 8 Ball?" Leo grinned at Emmie. The name tag on his borrowed overalls read GEORGIE. "She's kidding, right?"
"She's dead serious," Emmie said. "Er...so to speak. We might as well sit."
Calypso and Emmie took the armchairs. Leo hopped onto the couch next to Apollo, bouncing up and down with enthusiasm. Kira smiled, sitting between the two boys.
"You alright?" Kira asked a very pale Apollo, but she just received a curt nod in response.
Finally, Josie trotted back over with a Magic 8 Ball.
"I love those things!" Leo said. "Haven't seen one in years."
Apollo scowled at the sphere. "What does it do?"
"Are you kidding?" asked Leo. "It's a Magic 8 Ball, man. You ask it questions about the future."
"Impossible," Apollo said. "I am the god of prophecy. I know every form of divination, and I have never heard of a Magic 8 Ball."
Calypso leaned forward. "I'm not familiar with this form of sorcery, either. How does it work?"
Leo and Kira shot each other knowing looks before remembering they were no longer together. Both of them darted their eyes to the floor.
Josephine beamed. "Well, it's supposed to be just a toy. You shake it, turn it over, and an answer floats up in this little plastic window on the bottom. I made some modifications. Sometimes the Magic 8 Ball picks up on Agamethus's thoughts and conveys them in writing."
"Sometimes?" Leo asked.
Josephine shrugged. "Like, thirty percent of the time. Best I could manage."
"Wouldn't it be faster if Agamethus simply wrote down what he wanted to say?" Apollo asked.
Emmie shot him a warning look. "Agamethus is illiterate. He's a little sensitive about that."
The ghost turned toward the group. His aura darkened to the color of a blood orange.
"Ah..." Apollo said. "And those hand gestures he was making?"
"It's no form of sign language that we can figure out," Jo said. "We've been trying for seven years, ever since Agamethus joined us. The Magic 8 Ball's the best form of communication we've got. Here, buddy."
She tossed him the magical sphere. Agamethus caught it easily.
"Okay!" Josephine said. "So, Agamethus, what do you want to tell us?"
The ghost shook the Magic 8 Ball vigorously and then threw it to Apollo. It hit him in the chest and dropped into his lap. He barely caught it before it wobbled off the couch. Kira turned to Leo to hold back a laugh, but quickly looked away before he saw her. She kept forgetting she couldn't do that anymore.
"Master of dexterity," Calypso muttered. "Turn it over. Weren't you listening?"
"Oh, be quiet." He rotated the ball bottom-up.
"'Apollo must bring her home,'" He read aloud.
He looked up. Emmie's and Josephine's faces had become twin masks of shock.
Leo started to say, "Uh, what—?"
Simultaneously, Emmie and Josephine unleashed a torrent of questions: "Is she alive? Is she safe? Where is she? Tell me!"
Emmie shot to her feet. She began to pace, sobbing in great dry heaves, while Josephine advanced on Apollo, her fists clenched, her gaze as sharp as the pointed flame of her welding torch.
"I don't know!" He tossed Josephine the ball as if it were a hot baklava. "Don't kill me!"
She caught the Magic 8 Ball, then seemed to check herself. She took a heavy breath. "Sorry, Apollo. Sorry. I..." She turned to Agamethus. "Here. Answer us. Tell us."
She threw him the ball.
Agamethus seemed to regard the magical sphere with his nonexistent eyes. His shoulders slumped as if he did not relish his job. He shook the ball once again and tossed it back to Apollo.
"Why me?" He protested.
"Read it!" Emmie snapped.
He turned it over.
"'Reply hazy,'" Apollo read aloud. "'Try again later.'"
Emmie wailed in despair. She sank into her seat and buried her face in her hands. Josephine rushed to her side.
Leo frowned at the ghost. "Yo, Cheese, just shake it again, man."
"It's no use," Josephine said. "When the Magic 8 Ball says try again later, that's exactly what it means. We'll have to wait."
She sat on the arm of Emmie's chair and cradled Emmie's head against her. "It's all right," Josie murmured. "We'll find her. We'll get her back."
"Hey, I'm so sorry, guys," Kira said hesitantly. "Who-who is missing?"
With a quivering lip, Josephine pointed to Leo.
Leo blinked. "Uh, I'm still here—"
"Not you," Josephine said. "The name tag. Those overalls—they were hers."
Leo patted the stitched name on his overalls. "Georgie?"
Emmie nodded, her eyes puffy and red. "Georgina. Our adopted daughter."
"You two left the Hunters," Apollo said after a few moments. "For each other."
Josephine gazed into the distance. "We didn't exactly plan it. We left in...what, 1986?"
"Eighty-seven," Emmie said. "We've been aging together ever since. Very happily." She wiped away a tear, not looking terribly happy at the moment.
Calypso flexed her recently broken hand. "I don't know much about Lady Artemis, or her rules for followers, but don't they forswear the company of men? If you two fell in love—"
"No," Apollo said bitterly. "All romance is off-limits. My sister is quite unreasonable in that regard. The mission of the Hunters is to live without romantic distractions of any kind."
Emmie wouldn't meet their eyes.
She sighed wistfully. "We delighted in being Hunters, both of us. They were our family. But..." She shrugged.
"We loved each other more," Josephine supplied.
Kira's heart soared at the obvious love and bond that the two women shared.
"You must have parted with Artemis on good terms," Apollo said. "She let you live."
Josephine nodded. "The Lady's Hunters often stop here at the Waystation...though we have not seen Artemis herself in decades. Then, seven years ago, we were blessed with Georgina. She...she was brought to our door by Agamethus."
The orange ghost bowed.
"He brought her from where?" Apollo wondered.
Emmie spread her hands. "We've never been able to get that information from him. It's the one question the Magic 8 Ball never answers."
Leo must have been thinking deeply—a tuft of fire broke out at the top of his left ear. "Hold up. Agamethus isn't your kid's dad, is he? Also...you're telling me I'm wearing the overalls of a seven-year-old girl, and they fit?"
That got a broken laugh from Josephine. "I suppose they do. And no, Leo, Agamethus is not Georgina's father. Our ghostly friend has been dead since ancient times. Like Apollo said, he was the brother of Trophonius, the spirit of the Oracle. Agamethus appeared here with baby Georgie. Then he led us to the Oracle. That was the first we knew of its existence."
Kira looked to an amused Leo. "Aw, babe, you're the size of a seven year old!" Before she clamped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry," She stuttered. Everyone except Leo stared at her weird, for they had no idea what happened last night.
"So you have its location," Apollo said.
"Of course," Emmie murmured. "For all the good it does us."
"But the girl and the Oracle must be connected somehow."
Emmie closed her eyes. "We didn't realize how closely they were connected. Not until Georgie was taken from us."
"The emperor," Kira guessed.
Josephine nodded.
Kira had lost Meg McCaffrey to Nero. She did not like the idea of another young girl being taken by another evil emperor.
"In my vision," Apollo recalled, "I heard Nero call this emperor the New Hercules. Who is he? What did he do with Georgina?"
Emmie rose unsteadily to her feet. "I—I need to do something productive with my hands. It's the only way I've stayed sane the past two weeks. Why don't you all help us make lunch? Then we'll talk about the monster who controls our city."
Kira frowned deeply, upset of all the pain that the women had been through. She didn't want to reach too far, but she felt horrible and wanted to help in some way.
They were put to work before Kira could comfort them. She was asked to wash lettuce, dice tomatoes, and chop onions.
"Where does this food come from?" Apollo asked, blinking back tears from the onions.
Calypso dumped a basket of muddy carrots in front of him. "Emmie's got a garden on the roof. Greenhouses. Year-round growing. You should see the herbs—basil, thyme, rosemary. It's amazing."
Emmie smiled. "Thank you, dear. You definitely know your gardening."
Apollo sighed from beside her. She managed a smile to the ex-god.
"You sure you're doing okay, 'Pollo?" She probably was pushing it, but she was beginning to notice Apollo's sighs.
"Yes," He said unconvincingly. "Just the darn onions."
Leo burst through the door next to the pantry, holding aloft a wheel of cheese like a victor's laurel crown.
"BEHOLD THE CHEDDAR!" he announced. "ALL HAIL THE CHEESE CONQUERORS!"
His demeanor slipped when him and Kira caught eyes, but said nothing. Apollo stared at the two as if they were a reality show.
Josephine, chuckling good-naturedly, lumbered in behind him with a metal pail. "The cows seemed to like Leo."
"Hey, abuelita," Leo said. "All da cows love Leo. And these cows are red, man. Like...bright red."
Red cows were Apollo's favorite, he had ranted to Kira about them many times.
Josephine must have seen the miserable look on his face. "We just use their milk," she said hastily. "We don't butcher them."
"I should hope not!" He cried. "Killing red cattle would be sacrilege!"
Josephine didn't look properly terrified by the idea. "Yeah, but mostly it's because Emmie made me give up meat twenty years ago."
"It's much better for you," Emmie chided. "You're not immortal anymore, and you need to take care of yourself."
"But cheeseburgers," Jo muttered.
Leo plunked the cheese wheel in front of him. "Cut me a wedge of this, my good man. Chop-chop!"
He scowled at him. "Don't test me, Valdez. When I am a god again, I will make a constellation out of you. I will call it the Small Exploding Latino."
"I like it!" He patted his shoulder, causing his knife to jiggle.
While Emmie baked loaves of bread, Apollo tossed a salad with carrots, cucumbers, mushrooms, tomatoes, and all manner of roof-grown plant material. Calypso used fresh lemons and cane sugar to make lemonade, while humming tracks from Beyoncé's album of the same name. Kira washed off the fruits and vegetables for Apollo to cut. Leo cut the cheese. Josephine made dessert, which she said was her specialty. Today this meant fresh berries and homemade sponge cake in sweet red cream, with a meringue topping lightly toasted with a welding torch.
As for the ghost Agamethus, he hovered in one corner of the kitchen, holding his Magic 8 Ball dejectedly.
Finally, the group sat down to lunch.
Apollo shoveled his food in while Leo, Kira, and Calypso told their hosts about our travels west. Between bites of fresh bread with bright red butter, he added commentary as needed. Surprisingly, Kira and Calypso managed to stay civil, and helped each other tell the stories. Whenever Kira and Leo overlapped with their stories, they went silent, and both of their eyes went watery. Calypso thought they were insane.
They explained how Apollo's ancient foe Python had retaken the original site of Delphi, cutting off access to the most powerful Oracle. They explained how the Triumvirate had sabotaged all forms of communication used by demigods—Iris-messages, magical scrolls, ventriloquist puppets, even the arcane magic of e-mail. With the help of Python, the three evil emperors now intended to control or destroy all the Oracles from ancient times, thus putting the very future of the world in a stranglehold.
"We freed the Grove of Dodona," Apollo summed up. "But that Oracle simply sent us here to secure the next source of prophecy: the Cave of Trophonius."
Calypso pointed to his quiver, which lay against the nearest sofa. "Apollo, show them your talking arrow."
Emmie's eyes gleamed with the keen interest of an archer. "Talking arrow?"
He shuddered. "I will not show them my talking arrow," Apollo said. "I will, however, share the limerick."
"No!" said Calypso and Leo in unison. They dropped their forks and covered their ears. Kira just kept eating For some reason, the limericks didn't bother that much. She liked how happy they made Apollo.
He recited:
"There once was a god named Apollo
Who plunged in a cave blue and hollow
Upon a four-seater
The bronze fire-eater
Was forced death and madness to swallow."
Around the table, an uncomfortable silence fell.
Josephine glowered. "Never before has any voice dared to utter a limerick in this house, Apollo."
"And let us hope no one will ever do so again," Apollo agreed. "But such was the prophecy of Dodona that brought us here."
Emmie's expression tightened.
"'A cave blue and hollow'..." she said. "That's the Oracle of Trophonius, all right. It's located in the Bluespring Caverns, about eighty miles south of town."
Leo grinned as he chewed, his mouth an avalanche of earth-toned food particles. "Easiest quest ever, then. We get Festus back, then we look up this place on Google Maps and fly down there."
"Don't jinx it," Kira said, directing words to him for the first time that wasn't an accident. Leo turned red, looking down at his food.
"Doubtful," Josephine said. "The emperor has the surrounding countryside heavily guarded. You couldn't fly a dragon anywhere near Bluespring without getting shot out of the sky. Even if you could, the cave entrances are all way too small for a dragon to plunge into."
Leo pouted. "But the limerick—"
"May be deceptive," Apollo said. "It is, after all, a limerick."
Calypso sat forward. She had wrapped a napkin around her formerly broken hand.
"What about the last line?" she asked. "Apollo will be forced death and madness to swallow."
Josephine stared at her empty plate. Emmie gave her hand a quick squeeze.
"The Oracle of Trophonius is dangerous," Emmie said. "Even when we had free access to it, before the emperor moved in, we would only consult the spirit in extreme emergencies." She turned to him. "You must remember. You were the god of prophecy."
"I—I remember the cave was dangerous, yes," Apollo said. "I don't recall why."
"You don't recall." Emmie's voice took on a dangerous edge.
"I normally concentrated on the godly side of things," Apollo said. "The quality of the sacrifices. What sort of incense the petitioners burned. How pleasing the hymns of praise were. I never asked what kind of trials the petitioners went through."
"You never asked."
"I did some reading at Camp Half-Blood," He said defensively. "There wasn't much about Trophonius. Chiron couldn't help, either. He'd completely forgotten about the Oracle. Supposedly, Trophonius's prophecies were dark and scary. Sometimes they drove people insane. Perhaps his cave was a sort of haunted house? With, uh, dangling skeletons, priestesses jumping out and saying BOO?"
Emmie's expression stayed sour. Kira bit the inside of her lip, nervous for how this was going to play out.
"I also read something about petitioners drinking from two special springs," He persisted. "I thought swallowing death and madness might be a symbolic reference to that. You know, poetic license."
"No," Josephine muttered. "It's not poetic license. That cave literally drove our daughter mad."
A cold draft swept across her neck.
"What happened?" Kira spoke up.
Emmie tore a piece of bread crust. She let the pieces fall. "Once the emperor came to Indianapolis...this New Hercules..."
Calypso started to ask a question, but Emmie raised a hand. "Please, dear, don't ask me to name him. Not here. Not now. As I'm sure you know, many gods and monsters hear you when you speak their names. He is worse than most."
A pang of sympathy pulled at the corner of Calypso's mouth. "Please, go on."
"At first," Emmie said, "we didn't understand what was happening. Our friends and companions began to disappear." She gestured around her at the vast living area. "We used to have a dozen or so living here at any given time. Now...we're all that's left."
Josephine leaned back in her chair. In the light of the rose window, her hair gleamed the same steel gray as the wrenches in her coverall pockets. "The emperor was looking for us. He knew about the Waystation. He wanted to destroy us. But like I said, this isn't an easy place to find unless we invite you in. So, instead, his forces waited until our people were outside. They took our friends a few at a time."
"Took them?" Apollo asked. "As in alive?"
"Oh, yeah." Josephine's grim tone made it sound as if death would've been preferable. "The emperor loves prisoners. He captured our guests, our griffins."
A berry slipped out of Leo's fingers. "Griffins? Uh...Hazel and Frank told me about griffins. They fought some in Alaska. Said they were like rabid hyenas with wings."
Kira's stomach dropped at the mention of Hazel and Frank. Homesickness filed her heart.
Josephine smirked. "The small ones, the wild ones, can be, yeah. But we raise the best here. At least...we did. Our last mating pair disappeared about a month ago. Heloise and Abelard. We let them out to hunt—they have to do that to stay healthy. They never returned. For Georgina, that was the final insult."
Calypso unwrapped the napkin from her hand. "Your daughter," she asked. "What happened to her?"
Neither Josephine nor Emmie responded. Agamethus bowed slightly, his bloody tunic glowing in various shades of nacho topping.
"It's obvious," Apollo said into the silence. "The girl went to the Cave of Trophonius."
Emmie looked past them to Agamethus, her eyes as sharp as arrow points. "Georgina got it into her head that the only way to save the Waystation and find the captives was to consult the Oracle. She'd always been drawn to the place. She didn't fear it the way most people did. One night she slipped away. Agamethus helped her. We don't know exactly how they got there—"
The ghost shook his Magic 8 Ball. He tossed it to Emmie, who frowned at the answer on the bottom.
"'It was ordained,'" she read. "I don't know what you mean, you old, dead fool, but she was just a child. Without the throne, you knew what would happen to her!"
"The throne?" Calypso asked.
"Oh, gods," Apollo said. "The throne."
"The throne," Kira said sarcastically. "Gee, thanks, that clears it up."
The entire hall shuddered. Plates and cups rattled on the dining table. Agamethus vanished in a flash of nacho orange. At the top of the barreled ceiling, the green and brown stained-glass panels darkened as if a cloud had blacked out the sun.
Josephine rose. "Waystation, what's happening on the roof?"
No bricks shot out of the wall. No doors banged open and shut in Morse code.
Emmie set the Magic 8 Ball on the table. "The rest of you, stay here. Jo and I will check it out."
Calypso frowned. "But—"
"I can help," Kira offered, standing beside the women.
"That's an order," Emmie said. "I'm not losing any more guests."
"It can't be Com—" Josephine stopped herself. "It can't be him. Maybe Heloise and Abelard are back?"
"Maybe." Emmie didn't sound convinced. "But just in case..."
The two women moved quickly to a metal supply cabinet in the kitchen. Emmie grabbed her bow and quiver. Josephine pulled out an old-fashioned machine gun with a circular drum magazine between the two handles.
Leo nearly choked on his dessert. "Is that a tommy gun?"
Josephine patted the weapon affectionately. "This is Little Bertha. A reminder of my sordid past life. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. You all sit tight."
With that comforting advice, their heavily armed hosts marched off to check the roof.