Prophecy of the Most Beautiful (24 page)

"I'm racin'," Ace informed them as Sam strapped him into armor, "I need to see the pegs in action. If I have the nerve to call myself captain of the chariot team for the Games, I need to make sure they're in sound shape."

"Fine with me…
You, idiot
," Strafford snapped at Dropper, "You're with us." Dropper, who seemed to have rather enjoyed Strafford's little display, bowed and followed them down the dank, torch lit corridor. She looked back once and smiled at him. She had no idea why but it seemed appropriate. He returned the gesture with a gorgeous, dimpled smile of his own that caused his beautiful eyes to twinkle without mercy. Silly her. She had walked right into that one.

The Counselor's office was hidden away at the back of the passage like the cell of a dungeon. The door was frosted glass and said:
Hero Counselor
, in etched letters. Of course, Strafford barged right in.

There was a man sitting behind a desk engrossed in a map that was spread across it. His blond hair was back in a loose ponytail and he had a little pointed goatee on his chin. He was wearing a green t-shirt with the word "Godlet's" written in bright gold letters across the front of it under a light blue denim jacket. When they walked in, his dark eyes rose up to look at them. His face broke out with a wide grin.

"Welcome!" He said in an easy voice, waving them forward. "Come in, come in, all of you. Strafford, close the door, will you? As the Olympics grow near, the chaos here grows with it. I've been hiding out in my office all morning." He offered Chloe the only other chair in the tiny office, whose walls were covered from floor to ceiling with maps. "Please sit, Pythia."

"Thank you," She said and took the seat, happy to see Strafford had already calmed himself down. He was back to being gorgeous and olive again. Well, he'd never
stopped
being gorgeous.

He stood beside her chair and Dropper plopped down on a trunk sitting amidst stacks of books, scrolls, and piles of old armor and weapons. The Counselor gave Strafford a warm smile. "I asked you here because I wanted to see you. It makes me happy that you've returned to this life,
hero
. Four years is a long time."

"Yes," Strafford replied, not looking at her, "I accepted the guardianship of the Oracle."

The Counselor smiled. "A fine post indeed. There's much honor to be had in such a position." Strafford nodded and she got a sinking feeling that he had told her the truth. This gig was all about his honor and had nothing to do with her.

The Counselor's eyes found Dropper. "He is no demigod."

"No," Dropper said with a smile and twinkling eyes. "I am not a half-breed. I…do not know who I am actually."

The Counselor raised an eyebrow, then his eyes drifted down to Dropper's bare feet. "There may be a pair of shoes in that trunk that you're sitting on."

"Why thank you," Dropper replied, standing up. "You are very generous." The trunk lid creaked open and he began to rummage through it.

"I've got news," Strafford said, sounding impatient to discuss anything else besides the Dropper, "We were ambushed at the Chateau by the Bane Princess. Apollo withdrew his essence and let her in. Wha' do you make of tha'?"

The Counselor's smile was faint. "A god does not do what they do not mean to do."

"So he
meant
to expose his Oracle like tha'? We had to fight our way out of our own palace. Not tha' I didn' have a bloody good time doing it."

"Perhaps it was intentional, perhaps it was not." The Counselor still smiled, but never really answered the question. He and Strafford exchanged a long look which Chloe didn't understand, and after a time, the Prince muttered, "
Bastard
." He seemed to have figured out something, but didn't share.

"And him?" The Counselor gestured at Dropper who had managed to find two mismatched sneakers that fit him and was now fumbling through the pile of old swords.

"He's travelin' with us," Strafford explained, unenthusiastically. "Our Pythia's had an absolute prophecy, it seems, and he has a part in it. We jus' found him." He shot her a quick glance.

The Counselor's eyes widened. "So it's finally happened. The Oracle has come who possesses the gift of future voice." He smiled, “I'd certainly like to hear more about your prophecy. Maybe you could tell me about it as I check on things out there, Pythia?" After receiving a permissible nod from Strafford, she agreed. "Wonderful. Then it's settled." The Counselor pushed away from the desk and started to stand. Chloe watched with wide eyes as he rose.
One. Two. Three. Four
legs in total pushed him into a standing position.

He was half horse. Half man, half horse––a
centaur
, she knew. Not Strafford, nor even Dropper, seemed to find this strange in any way. His top half was the man they had been talking to for the past five minutes. His bottom half was a white stallion with a blonde tail that matched the ponytail on his head. It swished around as his hooves clicked and carried him around to the other side of the desk. The man,
centaur
, offered her his hand.

"My name is Chiron, by the way."

"Nice to meet you," Chloe muttered reaching up to shake his hand. A memory flashed in her mind. "You're the teacher and counselor of demigods. You're a son of Kronos, the old Titan king, but unlike him, you're known for being wise and good."

Chiron grinned. "I do love it when an Oracle receives the right Knowledge. Shall we?" And they all followed the centaur as he clip-clopped out of the office.

The chariot race had just begun and the stadium activities had come to a halt as the demigods turned their faces upwards to watch the riders and their pegasus careen through the air above them. All the demigods were paired up: Ace and Sam were together, and the Ares rider had been joined by the big, buff girl who'd carried Dodge off to be rehabilitated. The sounds of steel and weapons colliding filled the air as the riders tried to disable each other's chariots and put them out of the race. It was a lot more brutal than Chloe had expected of a chariot race. It seemed as though the demigods were really trying to kill each other, and after a couple of close calls where a few godlings almost fell to their deaths, she was sure of it.

Chiron led them to a small section of empty stadium seating where they would be able to hear each other. She wondered how he planned to arrange his horse body on the long benches, but didn't have to wonder for long as Chiron simply folded his legs under him and parked it on the stadium floor.

"So Pythia," He began, "I am very eager to hear your prophecy. Will you tell it to me now?"

"Um, sure." She recited it for him and he listened with concentration wrinkled in his brow.

"Do you have any idea what it might mean?" He questioned when she was done.

"Um…not really..."

"I was hopin'
you
could help us with tha', Chiron," Strafford said.

Chiron looked up as two chariots collided with each other, creating sparks in the air. "It's not my place to tell you what a prophecy may or may not mean. I only listen and guide. You know that,
hero
."

"I know," Strafford replied with a roll of his eyes. "Well, can you at least help us understand
him
?" He gestured at Dropper, who was sitting several feet away watching the brutal chariot race with acute fascination.

Chiron smiled. "You say you found him where exactly?"

"He fell. Landed right at our feet on the way here. How convenient, eh?"

This peaked the centaur's interest. "Fell from where?"

"He says the sky. But he can't really expect us to believe tha', Chiron. We're already in the bloody sky."

Chiron didn't respond right away. He stared straight ahead, his eyes not watching the race or anything else in particular. The chariots clashed and clanged above, and the sound of a chainsaw filled the air. There were screams. Sparks flew, pieces of metal crashed to the ground, but he paid none of it any mind. "There must be an imbalance in the heavens…"

Chloe and Strafford looked at each other. "Wha' d'ya mean? An imbalance?" He asked.

The Counselor's tail swished. "The gods are not happy."

Strafford snorted. "And? Wha' else is new?"

"New? Your destiny, I would say." He looked back and forth between the two of them. "All will become clear when the time is right, including what is to become of your new companion."

Strafford's eyes narrowed. "You know who he is, don't you?"

Chiron averted his gaze. "I could be wrong…but yes,
hero
, I believe I do know who he is."

"Tell us then!"

"I cannot," The centaur said, shaking his head, "I am bound by oath to the Olympians. I can only guide you."

"Then guide us," Chloe came in before Strafford could growl another word, "What's the next step? Where do we go from here?"

Chiron smiled. "Well, Pythia. As I would tell any of my
heroes
, look at your options. If you have been walking along only looking down––"

"Try looking up," She finished, not knowing how she had known what to say. Chiron nodded in agreement.

"Up?" Strafford said, then groaned, "You don't mean the––"

Cheers rang out in the stadium and they all looked up just in time to watch the chariot race come to an end as the riders crossed a floating finish line.

"Oh look," said Chiron, standing, "The children of Ares have won." And with that, he galloped off into the sea of rowdy demigods.

*****

XVII. Strafford

First mission out of retirement and he was already being sent into the Billows.
Och
, this was definitely not a good start to reviving his honor.

It actually seemed the Dropper might be telling the truth about his little tumble from the sky. Chiron knew who he was, but he wasn't talking,
as usual
. Instead, he had suggested they look for answers somewhere else. And in the bloody Billows of all places.

The Billows of Elsewhere.

He
hated
the Billows and how at all times when inside them, you were at their mercy. Chloe had asked him what Chiron had meant by "looking up", but the Billows of Elsewhere were not easily explained with words. You had to actually
see
them to believe it, and Strafford was hanging onto the hope that they wouldn't have to see them at all.

Swindle's cottage was just obscure enough to ease his stresses––and the drone of Ace's constant whining about losing the race to the Ares' bastards––for one night. It was located amongst a long block of identical cottages with tiled roofing and small chimneys, with not one standing out above the others. It was the perfect place to go unnoticed. This was the low rent part of town, the
Village
, where the less fortunate
iceys
came to spend eternity. Why the gods even gave immortality to people they considered unfortunate was puzzling to him. But it showcased their vanity in its worst light.
Iceys
existed for the sole purpose of keeping the gods immortal themselves. Sure, they were powerful on their own accord, but the immortals that paid them homage kept them
divine
.

Since the beginning, mortals had been bloody fickle and unreliable. Their beliefs waned and changed with the wind. So the gods, who could not rely on their mortal indecision, created their own race of believers who then owed the gods for their eternal existences. The gods found a way to forever put them in their debt and for eternity, the
iceys
would be on their hands and knees before them, keeping them alive, keeping them immortal.

And as a reward for their eternal devotion, the
iceys
were allowed to lead the same crappy lives they had as mortals. What a prize.

Swindle was about as unwelcoming to the Dropper as Strafford had been, giving him a stone cold greeting and telling him not to touch anything, not that there was much
to
touch. Chloe spent most of the day in his company, however, talking and laughing and joking.

Flirting
.

He'd stayed far away from their conversation––more for the importance of preserving the Dropper's life than his aversion to all things
prophetic
. The two laughed loudly together as the wanker showed Chloe the old crap sword Chiron had let him keep and his chest tingled. Was she really that bold as to flirt with the guy right in front of him? She clearly was. Ace and Swindle kept shooting the Dropper lethal glances, which he appreciated. They were territorial of Chloe too, though he was sure it wasn't in the same way he was. At least, it better not be.

Swindle eventually started showing Ace the things he’d picked up in the city. Strafford wondered if he’d paid for any of it. Probably not. Children of Hermes had some pretty sticky fingers.

Chloe giggled at something the wanker said. He looked away. To keep his mind off of murder, he turned his thoughts to other things. It was no secret now that Chloe was the
Pythia. Iceys
knew, demigods knew, Chiron knew, and there was no doubt in his mind that the gods knew. Which explained why Hades had unleashed his offspring on them. He wasn't so much worried about how Varney Bane had broken into the Delphic Chateau anymore. Apollo had been testing them. He’d taken away his divine protection and left them vulnerable on purpose.

Every situation you encounter will be a test of your will and strength
, Chiron had told him many years before. At the time, he hadn't understood it entirely. But now, years later, with life testing him at every turn, he understood. Every mission, every encounter with a god or demigod, every battle, was a test of his will and strength to fight through it.

Now his biggest test had come in the form of a pretty copper top wan with a destiny so great that even the gods feared it.

He just hoped this wasn't going to be one more test he would fail.