Prophecy of the Most Beautiful (12 page)

Three thousand years? Woah. "So L.A. is…"

"Old as bloody hell, aye." She shook her head in disbelief. L.A. didn't look to be more than twenty-five.
At most
.

"I think I need my medication," She mumbled.

Ace chuckled. "For wha'? It won't do you any good. You're not a schizophrenic, Chloe."

Her eyes widened. "How did you know?" She was mortified that he knew her secret.
Did Strafford know too?

"There's not much we don't know abou' you," Ace replied, answering that question. "Besides, every Oracle is always diagnosed with some mental incapability by mortals before they come to us. King George III of England had the power of the Oracle, but his powers drove him mad. His mind couldn' handle the power he possessed."

Chloe bit her lip. "So…so I'm not sick? I'm just prophetic, that's what you're saying?"

Ace nodded. "Exactly. Your powers are untamed, so every now and then, your mind gets a lil' whacked out. But you'll learn to control it, and when you do, you'll be unstoppable." He looked very proud to say that.

She pulled a few of her most nagging questions out of the mountain of them she had. She leaned forward. "How are you related to L.A. then? And don't tell me you're the band's roadie or the president of their fan club. I'm crazy, but not crazy enough to believe that."

He and Swindle laughed. "I knew I would like you, Chloe," He said, "Apollo is my Da, you know, my father."

"Your father?!"

"You heard right."

She couldn't hide her shock. "But he's a god, and…and you're human!"

"Who said I was human?"

She gasped. "You're not human?"

He shrugged. "Partly."

"What does that mean, partly?"

"It means I'm part human, part not human."

Chloe swallowed hard. "How can someone only be
part
human?"

"Tha's wha' happens when gods have love affairs with humans. The result is me. A demigod."

"So––so you're half human, half
god
?"

"Tha's right. But we’re not immortal; We still age. We’re jus’ don’t die so easy, tha’s all."

She shook her head in disbelief. "How is it possible that gods can have children with humans? I don’t get it."

"I would think after wha' you jus' went through, you'd think anythin' was possible." He shrugged. "Gods have been takin' human lovers for centuries now. It's kind of weird, I know, but it's a normal thing in our world. Hundreds of demigods exist all over the kingdom."

"Hundreds?"

"At least." He jerked his head towards Swindle. "A son of Hermes, the Messenger god, but he spends more time with us than his own siblings." Swindle nodded in agreement and fed Bill another piece of jerky.

"And what does a demigod
do
exactly?" She kept on questioning.

"A lot of things, but mostly we jus' do wha'ever our parents want us to. You know––missions, battles, wars, killin' stuff––those kinds of things. And we're half gods, so naturally we have a few special talents tha' they find useful. Wha' talents are passed to you are all based off of who your celestial parent is."

"So what talents did L.A. give to you?"

"Me? Oh, nothin' too fancy. Since my Da is a healer god as well, I'm pretty good with medicines and things, but tha's abou' it. Strafford got all the good stuff."

Oh!
She hadn't had time to register that if Ace was the son of a god, so was Strafford. She played with this notion over and over in her head. They were half gods––
amazing
. Strafford Law was making a whole lot more sense to her now.

She shivered with a sudden renewed excitement. Was she really going to get to be a part of this world, the
heavens of Myth
––the same world as this gorgeous, half-god, half-human guy named Strafford? What had she done to deserve all of this? She hoped none of this was a dream she was about to wake up from. How could she stomach normal life after all of
this
?

Her smile fell. But it was wrong for her to be happy while her family suffered and wondered where she had disappeared to. But why couldn't she deny that this entire experience was starting to become more exhilarating with every passing moment and she wasn't sure she was ready for it to end yet? She told herself she was a horrible person––and an even worse sister and daughter––to feel that way.

Beautiful, beautiful, this one must be saved…

Yes, that had been part of it
, she thought as her mind shifted gears against her will. It was as though it had acted on its very own, wanting her to concentrate on the strange poem and nothing else––not even her own family. What did that saying mean? She waited to hear more as she remembered there had been more to it. But nothing came and she was left with one line of words that had no meaning for her.

"I think, now tha' you're awake, we should get some fresh air," Ace said, standing up. She was happy to be distracted then and a walk outside sounded better than one more minute spent in the stuffy suite. "We'll take you the long way, down Melody Hall. Tha' way, you'll get to see the god of Music at his finest." He returned his drumsticks to his back pocket.

"L.A.?" She asked. "I mean, Apollo?"

"Both. Come on. We'll show you."

*****

Melody Hall was a long, colorful corridor with spotlights, shadow boxes, display cases, pictures and plaques. After twisting and turning through the confusing halls of the Chateau and even walking through a door beside a staircase that seemed to lead nowhere, they arrived there and made a slow tour through it.

"I just can't believe he's a god," Chloe said, letting her hand graze over a case that displayed three Grammy awards, "I can't believe there's any such thing as gods…or goddesses…" she glanced at the boys walking beside her, "or demigods."

"Believe it," replied Ace, looking up where Bill was flying overhead, bumping into the walls and ceiling.

"All the colors make him a little dizzy," Swindle explained, gesturing at the wild and colorful, patterned walls. Chloe could only chuckle. Bill seemed to be quite a bird.

"Check it out, Chloe," Ace said, pointing ahead to a long line of pictures and paintings on the walls. There were so many of him, of L.A. or
Apollo
, from digital color pictures from magazines to black-and-white photographs to old paintings, until the pictures were nothing more than sketches and drawings on yellowed papyrus paper. Each picture captured him in a different light, and it was only in his eyes that she recognized him among the many changes in his looks. It was those icy blue eyes that pierced through the soul like a sword, clean and painless, that always revealed him.

"The Daughters of Inspiration are all so pretty," She said, looking at a framed magazine cover of
A Divinity's Stimuli
.

"The Muses, Chloe."

She frowned. "Huh?"

"The Daughters of Inspiration is a front. They're the Muses, the nine female deities that inspire the arts and sciences." Ace gestured with his hands to urge her to catch on. "A Divinity's Stimuli. A god's muses. Apollo and the Muses. Understand?" She nodded, awed. "Besides the band, they have parts on Broadway and in the London Theater, places like tha'. One of them is even in Hollywood."

"Really? Who?"

"Polly Song. You know her?"

Chloe smiled. "Uh, yeah. Who doesn't? I've seen, like, almost all of her movies!"

Ace grinned. "Her name is Polyhymnia. She's the muse of ceremonial song. Get it?"

Polly Song
. She got it.

They moved on.

"Over all of the years of his existence, Da's been a bunch of things," Ace continued, pointing at different pictures as he spoke, "A violinist in the orchestra of the composer, Johannes Brahms; a cellist in the London Symphony Orchestra; a trumpeter in Frank Sinatra's band; and he even entertained the last queen of France, Marie Antoinette at the
Petit Trianon
with his skills as a singer and harpist. And tha's jus' a few of 'em."

Chloe gazed at a picture of Apollo wearing a tailed-tuxedo and playing a grand piano. "You make it seem like being a famous rockstar is just something he's doing for the time being."

He nodded. "You've got the gist of it. When he gets bored with it, which he eventually will, A.D.S. is over. Maybe he'll be a saxophonist again. He always did like playin' in jazz bands."

Chloe shrugged it off. She didn't want to think about A.D.S.
ever
being over.

All things meet their end
, A voice said to her.

"
True",
Chloe replied, listening for more. The voices in her head hadn't said one word since she'd woken up, but now that they had, she was eager to hear what they had to say.

My divine name is Clothos,
the mother-like voice said
, But you may call me Madame Cee. We are much too acquainted for formal names.

Ace was talking, but Chloe couldn't hear a word he said. She just smiled and nodded, hoping she looked convincing.

"
Who are you exactly?"
She asked the Madame.

Why, I am one of three goddesses of destiny, a Fate. I spin the thread that begins your life.

"The thread?"

Figuratively speaking, Chloe. Life is woven of many different elements. I combine those elements together, therefore, putting into motion who you are destined to become
.

A new voice entered the conversation.
And I decide which finely woven thread belongs to whom. That is, which destiny will be yours.
Chloe instantly liked the high-pitched voice.
My name is Lachesis. But please, call me LaLa.

"LaLa? Really?"

She giggled.
Why not? I think it quite suits me.

Indeed it does
, said the third, sharp voice.
A name has never fit one better.
LaLa giggled, but didn't respond.
I am Atropos, but you will call me Trophy. I cut the thread that ends your life, releasing your soul to Elysium. Or if you have lived treacherously, to Tartarus, the deepest, darkest pit of the Underworld.

Why am I not surprised that she ends lives?
Chloe thought to herself. The voice had always been a bit on the edgy side. She nodded and smiled as Ace showed her another one of L.A.'s awards.

We can hear your private thoughts, you know,
Trophy snapped.

"How is that possible? Why are you guys in my head at all?"

Because
, Madame Cee said,
Your mind is an impenetrable fortress and we find comfort and security here. Not even Apollo, the one prophetic god, can break down your walls. Not unless you choose to let him in. He cannot read your thoughts as he can all other mortals. So you see, dear, we are quite safe here.

"Safe? Are you in danger somehow?"

Always. We are spirit divinities who have not taken bodily form in centuries. Therefore, we require a life within someone who does.

Trust us, Chloe
, said LaLa,
You are safer for it
.

"Chloe? Are you okay?" Ace was waving his hand in front of her face. She blinked and looked at him. Swindle was watching her with a skeptical glint in his eye.

"I'm fine," She replied, keeping her cool and praying that she hadn't been talking to herself out loud. Throughout her life, she had been caught doing that more times than she could count.

"You looked pretty out of it," Swindle said, summoning Bill to his shoulder with a high-pitched whistle.

She shrugged. "I was just thinking…"

"About what?"

"The Fates," She replied. A gut instinct told her not to say any more than that. If the Fates were indeed real and needed her to protect them, exposing the fact that they were in her head might put them in danger. It might even put
her
in danger, on top of making her sound like a lunatic.

"The Fates are everything, Chloe," Swindle had begun explaining, "They decide the destinies of not only humans, but of demigods, immortals, monsters and beasts alike. They are the "all-seeing", but they don't intrude in our lives like every other god. They stay in the shadows, silent, and watch you fulfill the destiny they have designed for you."

Chloe heard the voices shifting around in her head, waiting. "So…so this is how it's always been? They stay hidden and watch us live?"

"Yeah. It's how they keep from interfering. I could see how it'd be tempting to want to change people's destinies if I had the power to, but they can't do that."

He is as brilliant as we designed
, said Madame Cee.

Even more so,
added LaLa.

Chloe had one final test, to prove the voices were who they said they were and not just more evidence that she was indeed as nutty as a fruitcake. "What are their names?"

"Ah, tha's an easy one," Ace said, "Clothos, Lachesis, and Atropos."

And our roman names are Parca, Decima and Nona
, said Trophy,
Go on then. Ask him.

"And their roman names?"

"Roman names? Uh yeah, you've got this one, college boy," Ace said to his friend.

"Parca, Decima and Nona," answered Swindle with a smile. "What's with the examination? I feel like I'm at the Uni right now."

She could feel a blush arise in her cheeks. "I'm just trying to learn as much as I can."

"Aye, we understand," Ace replied. He stopped walking for a minute and inhaled. "Ahh, you smell tha'?"

The smell of food forced Chloe out of her own head, away from the Fates and the never-ending thoughts of the family that was missing her. They were approaching a crystal glass door that appeared to lead outside of the Chateau. It did––to perfect weather and a long stone walkway blocked on both sides by tall, green manicured hedges that shook and sparkled as they walked by. The food smell became more mouth-watering and Chloe licked her lips. She realized that the excitement of her new surroundings had distracted her from the fact that she was starving.