Prophecy of the Most Beautiful (33 page)

The business of
die now
.

Knowing Cupid wouldn't come through for her, Aphrodite had employed the Graces to make sure she got what she wanted––the Dropper, a fallen star and the key to the prophecy, with permission to take out anyone that got in their way.

Swindle had somehow pushed himself up into a sitting position, but still suffered from the poisonous effects of the Scorpion sting. However, it was clear in his eyes that he had heard the bit about the Graces. He gave Ace a look that said he understood their predicament perfectly––they were so, so dead.

“I will go, if it puts Chloe in danger,” Dropper was thick enough to offer.

“No,” Strafford replied, surprising the heck out of Ace. He had thought his brother had been counting down the hours until they ditched Dropper.

“Why not?” Dropper questioned.

Strafford glared at him. “Because the prophecy is not fulfilled. Handing you over will only delay the inevitable.”

“But maybe this
is
the inevitable.”

“It’s not.” Strafford now glared at Cupid. “Because if it was, the goddess would not have sent
him
to handle this.”

"Smart Prince you are," said Cupid, grinning. "But may I make a suggestion?”

“As if you would shut up if I said no.”

Cupid laughed. “Right you are! But as for my suggestion, simply find the Most Beautiful before the Graces find you." This revelation was followed by complete silence. "Well, don't look at me to tell you how! Look to your Oracle for help. She knows what she has to do. When she wakes up, everything will be more clear." He turned to his wife. "I believe our work here is done, Soul."

"Your mother is still going to be livid, Amor." Psyche stood and her throne became a golden mist that cleared a moment later.

The god of Love snorted. "And what's so unusual about that? Good luck,
heroes
. Hope to see you alive in the future."

Liars!
Ace wanted to shout. He could bet big drachmas that they were
dying
to see them fail. The gods liked nothing better than to be proven right.

The two gods disappeared in a brilliant flash and except for Strafford, who was born with the ability to tolerate blinding light, they all turned their heads or covered their eyes.

"Now what?" asked Dropper.

"We get Chloe somewhere safe, tha's wha'," Strafford said, returning to her side.

"Do you know wha' the Most Beautiful is?" Ace asked Dropper. "Can you remember anythin' at all?" He still couldn't believe that Dropper was a bloody fallen star, a
constellation
from the
Regalis Stella
. How had he become a mortal?

Dropper shook his head. He looked pitiful. "I do not remember anything." He moved his ankle around in a circle. "I think I will be okay now." Ace dropped down to check. His leg looked healed, but he gave Dropper another pharmakon pill and a few laurel leaves just to be sure.

He looked up and saw his brother staring with furrowed brows down at the palm of Chloe's hand. He laid her arm across her chest, then stared at his own hand for a while. He stood.

"Wha's going on, bro?" Ace asked.

"Let me see your hand, fella," He said, approaching Dropper.

Dropper held up his hands in defense. "I promise you, Your Highness, I do not remember––"

"Don't be thick. I'm not gonna hurt you…this time. Jus' give me your hand." Ace believed him. Strafford wouldn't kill him until the prophecy had been fulfilled and Chloe was safe. Then it would be his pleasure.

Dropper did as he was told and stuck out his hand. Strafford glanced at it quickly then nodded.

"Yup, you're definitely an
icey
now. You have Kismet lines," He said, "Tha' means you can receive a prophecy."

Ace frowned. "But the Oracle's Dictum says––"

"I know wha' it says. He's not a divinity or a demigod, so it's forbidden unless otherwise permitted by Apollo. I may be wrong, but I think he'll be pretty willin' to do anything the great Pythia asks him to do." He didn't need to question his brother as to why he thought that. They both knew the answer.

"Okay, so how do we find Da?" He questioned. He knew their father would be almost impossible to get in contact with. One could only find their Da when he
wanted
to be found…and that was hardly ever.

"I know." A small smile sprang to Swindle's pallid face. His voice was feeble but clear. "Hermes Mail."

"Hermes Mail?" Dropper questioned, "What is that?"

"It's how my father delivers and sends messages between the gods," Swindle explained in his weak voice, "Well, that's its main purpose. But if you have access to the network, anyone can use it. You only send letters through Iris Post if you have a century to wait for them to get to their destination, I don't care what
she
says." Ace smiled. If Swindle was cracking jokes, it meant he was feeling better. "My father will get the message to Lord Apollo quickly, no matter where he is," Swindle said, "and luckily for you
jukkas
, I have a way to contact him."

"Do you think tha's a good idea though?" Ace asked, "Purposely lettin' her have contact with another Olympian besides our Da?" He gave his brother a look.

"We don't have much of a choice," Strafford replied, glancing at Chloe. Did he dare say his brother looked
googly-eyed
?

"Besides, my father wouldn't hurt her," Swindle said, his tired brown eyes narrowed. "You
know
that."

"Calm down, Swindle," said Dropper, "I am sure Ace did not mean it as an insult." Ace was surprised to hear the Dropper speak up for him. There was no truce between them. He still didn't like the wanker.

"Who asked you, twinkle eyes?" Swindle mumbled, clearly on his way back to normal.

"You know tha's not wha' I meant, Lenka," Ace said. He always used his best friend's real name when he wanted him to know he was dead serious.

Swindle sighed. "Yeah, I know." He whistled two fast tweets and Bill climbed onto his shoulder. "And thanks...for not letting me die and all."

"No problem." They exchanged smiles and went for hugs, but realized how queer that was and bumped knuckles instead.

Strafford cleared his throat, cutting short their moment of pansy behavior. "We need to get back to land, to the heavens and to the present," He said, "I don't want to spend another second three thousand years from when I was born."

"Looks like the boat is already taking us towards land," said Swindle, pointing at ancient Athens looming in the near distance.

"Do you not think that Aphrodite might have already led the Graces straight to us and they are waiting for us on shore?" Dropper asked. He pushed himself into a standing position and tested out his leg. It was as good as new.

"That's only the
first
important question," Chloe coughed, finally waking up. It seemed she had been absorbing their conversation while trying to return to full consciousness.

"Wha' do you mean, Red?" Strafford helped her to sit up. She asked for water and he handed her the flask. "Wha' else is important?" They all leaned in to hear her answer.

Chloe coughed again. "The important question is, if Aphrodite sent Cupid and the Graces after us, then who sent Hecate?"

*****

XXIII. Chloe

Chloe couldn't remember much of what had happened before she passed out and Strafford had refused to burden her with the details. She
did
remember them sailing for Athens, but instead of docking off the coast of the city that they saw before them, they landed on the edge of a massive forest and steep mountains that appeared out of nowhere. Strafford had recognized it at once as the heavenly
Spritewood
and declared they were back in the present based on the heat of the sun. He said it was way hotter than in the past. How he figured that out, she didn't know.

They found refuge inside the highest cave of the mountain peak Strafford called,
Mount Ida
. He insisted on carrying her until she got her strength back and she immediately took him up on it. The entire
chanting
, as he called it, had left her pretty weak and she spent the climb half asleep in his arms.

"The Graces won't come here," Strafford said about the mountain, as he settled her against a cave wall covered in ancient carvings. "I used to come here a lot during missions when I needed a safe haven. This cave is sacred and no one would dare attack us here." He saw her staring at some precious stones lodged into the granite. "Or
steal
from here."

"What makes the cave sacred?" She asked, blushing.

He looked up from the pillow he was making for her out of the torn robes they had brought along. "Zeus was born in this cave."

"What?"

"And it's also where Paris of Troy told Aphrodite she was the most beautiful of all goddesses––"

"––therefore starting the Trojan War because Aphrodite gave Paris the beautiful Helen of Sparta as a reward."

Strafford smiled. "The Knowledge?"

She nodded and returned the smile.

Across the cave, Ace was getting his mad scientist on with what was left of his medicines. Dropper was standing at the edge of the cave looking out over the plush landscape below him. Swindle sat down beside her. He had let Bill go off to hunt.

Still looking a bit worn through, he removed his necklace and set it down in front of her. "You're going to have to ask him," He said, "Lord Apollo wouldn't do this for anybody else."

"What are you talking about?"

Swindle explained their idea about Dropper's Kismet. Then he pressed the tiny button on the locket of the necklace and she watched it unfold out, and out, and out, and out, until a big computer monitor was sitting in front of them.

"Pretty cool. You think Apollo will say yes?" She asked, letting her fingers graze over the screen.

"I think he'll do anythin' you say, Red." Strafford slipped his homemade pillow behind her back.

"Why is that? Because I'm the
One
or whatever?"

"Basically."

"Come on, Strafford. What does that even mean?"

"Later." And by the tone of his voice, that's exactly what he meant.

Defeated for the moment, she turned her attentions back to Swindle. "I can't believe you guys have computers," She said. "And nice ones too."

"Why not?" Swindle questioned. "The gods think humans come up with some very useful devices. Televisions, telephones, computers." Swindle gestured towards the machine in front of them. "When the gods find one that they like, they take it, do a bunch of divine things to it, and it comes out better than anything the mortal world has. It's how the gods stay current and 'cool'." He laughed. "You'll see just what I mean in a minute."

Swindle woke up the sleeping device with a Greek command and then dragged his finger over the screen to a picture of a fire-red lizard that said
The Salamander Network
under it. With one tap, the computer brought up several network options each represented by a different symbol. Swindle pointed them each out and explained what they were. There was a heart for
E-Cupid,
an online dating site; a star for
DemiBook
, a social network for demigods; a rolled scroll for the electronic version of
The Enlightener
; a globe for
PODA
; and a white sneaker with two golden wings attached to it for
Hermes Mail
.

"Demigods have their own social networking site?" Chloe asked with a chuckle.

"Yes," Swindle responded, seriously, and she choked down her next giggle, "It's important that we all stay…connected. You know, keep tabs on each other. We come up missing so often…"

Swindle stole a quick glance at Strafford, then tapped his finger on the white sneaker. A yellow screen with "Hermes Mail" written in large, black cursive script and the logo of the sneaker in the top left corner popped up on the computer. The screen was separated into four different colored squares: A white one for 'Gods', a green one for 'Heroes', a yellow one for 'Immortals Celeste', and a black one for 'Unfortunate Humans'.

"Unfortunate humans?" Chloe said, gruffly, "How rude."

"Don't take it personally," Swindle said, tapping the 'Demigods' button, "The gods just believe mortals got the short end of the stick with having to get old and die and all. It's nothing against you. They feel the same way about half-breeds." Swindle pointed at the screen. "My father said Lord Apollo doesn't check his mail often, so here's hoping he does very soon." Strafford snorted and Chloe assumed that was him expressing his doubt.

State your name hero
, The computer said with the voice of some woman.

"Swindle."

Swindle, otherwise known as Lenka Tahile, Declared Son of the Great Olympian, Hermes
. It paused for several seconds.
Voice recognized. Access granted.

The screen changed to a bunch of multi-colored circles overlapping each other with more option buttons. Swindle tapped the "
New Hermes Note
" option and a smaller white screen opened over the circle-filled option screen.

"
Darn it
!" They heard a male voice exclaim through the monitor's built-in speakers. Then right afterwards, parchment papers rolled up into scrolls begin to fly upward into the screen's view. "Where the
hades
did I put that invoice? It's so late. Father is going to
crucify
me."

Swindle leaned in close to the monitor, knocked on the screen, and said "Father!"

A face popped up into the screen's view as the scrolls dropped down around it. It belonged to a scruffy man with a pointed goatee and blonde hair that stuck out from underneath the white baseball cap he was wearing flipped backwards. He had on squared glasses over his royal blue eyes with little golden wings sticking out of the side of each lens. He was wearing a white and gold basketball jersey over a white t-shirt and was chewing hard on a piece of gum.
This
guy was Swindle's father? This was Hermes, the messenger god?