Prophecy of the Most Beautiful (40 page)

Hermes tisked. "Shame, shame. But onto more important matters! Apollo has granted your request, my dear Pythia." Hermes patted Chloe on the head after looking at Dropper.

"Really?" She replied. She smiled at Dropper and the twinkly-eyed wanker smiled back. She smiled at him too, but he was too busy sneering at Dropper to return it.

"However," Hermes said, "The bestowal of Apollo's favor comes with a condition."

"I
knew
it," He snarled, dropping Chloe's hand, which she immediately put back in his. Before he could stop himself, he raised her palm to his lips and kissed it. She blushed a dozen shades of crimson.

"Of course you knew, boy. Nothing granted of a god comes without payment."

"Wha' does Apollo want from her?" He asked, impatiently.

Hermes shrugged and twirled his goatee. "Who knows what my brother wants. Could be anything. He might want Pythia to do something as simple as help him catalog his immense library. He hasn't done that in a few decades."

"Well, that doesn't seem too bad," Chloe said.

"Oh, don't come to that conclusion so soon, Pythia. I said,
might
, which means probably not." Hermes grinned. "Well, I'm off at the next stop. Having dinner with father and Hera in Olympus tonight." He didn't look excited about it at all. "I only stopped by on my way there since I had some free time to spare. Thought I might deliver the letter personally."

"Thanks, Father," Swindle said. "We appreciate that."

"Son," Hermes replied, then slapped his forehead with his palm. "I almost forgot! I have a letter for you two as well, sons of Apollo." He fumbled around in the pockets of his white shorts for several seconds before he pulled out a small scroll. He smoothed it out, plucked off one of Bonkers' feathers and placed it in Ace's uninjured hand. "For you, Strafford and Finbar," Hermes said.

"
Finbar
? Is that your
true
name, demigod?" Dropper guffawed, but Ace's glare shut him up quick.

"It's from Felicity," Ace said after he had unrolled the scroll. Strafford froze. He and Ace gave each other weary glances. There was only one thing Felicity would be contacting them about in the middle of a mission. Or at all. Felicity despised Strafford and only acknowledged him when the option to ignore him no longer existed.

"Who's Felicity?" Chloe asked in a stiff tone. He knew what she was probably thinking––but she’d find out she was wrong soon enough.

After a quick look at her, he switched seats so he could lean over his brother's shoulder to do the same.

"Is everything okay?" Swindle asked, looking almost as worried as they were. He knew what the letter was about.

"No, everythin' is not okay," Ace muttered as he let Strafford strip the letter from his hand. Strafford looked it over once more, then quickly folded the letter up and shoved it into his pocket.

"We can't let ourselves get distracted right now," He said, "The Quad has a duty to the Oracle. But as soon as we're done here, we'll take care of this."

Ace nodded. "Okay," but he didn't look comforted. He actually looked like he might bolt through the train doors as soon as they opened. He was prepared to tie his little brother up and carry him over his shoulder for the rest of the mission if he tried it.

"Can you send a reply back to Felicity, my lord?" He asked.

Hermes
still
looked disgruntled by the request even though he’d been polite. He wouldn’t waste the effort next time. "Since I know the nature of this letter and I find Felicity quite personable, I will oblige you," He said, waving his hand. His Caduceus appeared, alongside a blank scroll. "Speak, boy."

He was able to look past being called a boy, even though he was twenty-freaking-two years old. This was more important. "Felicity, don't worry," He said and the words were transferred onto the scroll––turning gold as they left his mouth, and becoming black script once they had reached their destination, as words did when a divine royal dictated letters. At least his disgrace hadn't taken that from him. "Ace and I will be there as soon as we complete our mission."

He tossed two drachmas into the Caduceus. "And can you alert the mortal police tha' they've got missing rangers at Yellowstone National Park? For their families' sake?" He asked. He peeked out of the corner of his eye, waiting to see Chloe's pleased smile. She gave him nothing. He frowned.

"More human casualties, eh?" Hermes questioned, though it was clear he wasn't looking for an answer. "Seems to be happening all around."
What?
But his lordship wasn't elaborating. The Caduceus disappeared. "Consider your messages delivered," He said, as Janus brought the
Whip
to another unsteady stop inside the rocky canyon that was
Olympic Station
. "Janus and his deplorable driving…well, I really have to be going. Zeus doesn't like to be kept waiting. Good luck, godlings, and remember, the best discounts are made by five fingers!" He changed back into the priest and as soon as the doors opened, he stepped through them and disappeared into the regal crowd of toga-wearing immortals.

*****

Chloe tried not to let her mind get too boggled about how the
Whip
maneuvered around the heavens so fast. She was still reeling from her battle with the Graces, wondering if the Fates could've really meant for all this to happen. Future voice. Absolute prophecies. Chanting. Kismet.
Killing
. That one didn't seem to coincide with her other abilities and she wasn't as proud of it as she had let the demigods believe. She didn't want to be the taker of life. She was perfectly content letting the demigods handle the killing. They enjoyed it,
lived
for it. Killing was what they were born to do.

But she was not.

It wasn't long before they reached Los Atlas's
Argonaut Station
. It was entirely made of gold––like was the
golden fleece
stolen by Jason and the Argonauts––from its shining floors all the way up to its shimmering high-vaulted ceilings. She tip-toed through it not wanting to leave behind even the tiniest smudge.

That's where the "normal" ended.

Pushing herself to ignore Strafford who kept peeking out the corner of his eye at her, she let the eyeful that was Los Atlas take over. This province was the Las Vegas of the heavens, no doubt, modern and ritzy. It glittered and sparkled with lights and electronic billboards, sprawling casinos and posh hotels, and elevated right in the heart of the province was a glorious citadel surrounded by what looked to be acres and acres of vineyards. It, too, was lit up and added to the province's overwhelming shimmer. She could practically hear the slot machines going off as soon as they'd exited the station.

The
iceys
were as flamboyant as they could get. Their clothes and hairstyles consisted of every color in existence and each of them tried to wear as many of those colors at once as they could. As they made their way to Swindle's hideout on the outskirts of the province, the
iceys
pranced around them in a state of pure euphoria like they were living the kind of life that everyone should want. They sang and laughed and danced to a rhythm only total bliss could play. She wondered what they could possibly be so happy about. Did it really feel
that
good to live in Los Atlas? Or were they all just high off of something other than life?

Swindle's hideout was another ramshackle hut, but at least it was more furnished than the one in New Elysium and none of them were forced to sit on the floor. But their down time was short-lived. After consuming the meal Swindle had whipped up from some food he had stolen at some time or another, Strafford got right down to business.

"Kismet time," He said, clearly at the point of total pissivity. "I want this over with now. I can't be bothered with this bloody prophecy for much longer. I've got important things to deal with."

"I bet you do," She replied before she could stop herself.

"Don't talk abou' things you know nothin' abou', Red," He snapped, "Felicity is our
sister
."

Crap
, she cringed. She tried to find some way to redeem herself, but in the end gave up.
Whatever
. There was still the girl in the locket. The one he wore right next to his heart. Why didn’t he feel the need to explain her too?

"Dropper needs something to offer to Lord Apollo for the Kismet," Swindle said to ease the tension, removing his stadium jacket to reveal a funky
Medusa
tee by
Crooks & Castles
. "It has to be something that has meaning to him. We still don't have anything."

A silence fell over them.

"I think I may have something," Dropper replied less than a minute later after digging into his pack. He pulled out his bundled robe, unfolded it and held up something chunky and white. It looked like a gigantic tooth that was pointed at one end.

Strafford grunted. "Wha' the hell is tha'?"

"I am not quite sure," Dropper said, ignoring Strafford's attitude. "Here," He laid the chunk of ivory in her outstretched hands, "I found it in the villa in Corinth among some of the rubbish." She frowned, wondering when he could have picked it up. She had been watching him like a hawk. "I kept it because I thought it might be important later, though I do not know why I thought so.”

Ace had a funny look on his face. "What's wrong?" She asked him.

He didn't answer, but simply reached into his pack and pulled out another chunk of ivory. This piece, however, did not have a pointed end. "Found this outside the temple of Aphrodite." He gave it to her. "Thought it was a really cool rock. Sorry."

Now
she was mad. Dropper
and
Ace had both been holding out on them.

Swindle approached to get a better look before Strafford could curse them both out. His expression contorted into utter surprise. "That's the tusk of the Ares Boar!" He exclaimed.

"What's that?" She and Dropper asked at the same time. They all moved in to get a better glimpse of what Swindle was suddenly so excited about, even Strafford, who was beyond ticked off at this point.

Swindle's took the two pieces in his hands and brought them together. They fit together like a puzzle––rather, a tusk. "It's the tusk of the Ares Boar. I learned about it in a
Divine Symbolism
forum during Winter solstice. The boar is a symbol of Ares' power, along with the vulture and a spear. The vulture represents his predatory-like nature; The spear, his zest for killing and war. The boar is the embodiment of Ares' rage. That's why boars are known to charge when threatened. But the Ares Boar is completely under Ares' command." Swindle then looked puzzled. "But what was part of it doing in Corinth near the temple of Aphrodite, or more importantly, at that villa, Dropper?"

Dropper shrugged. He had no idea nor did anyone else. They still had yet to figure out who Dropper had been before he had been transferred to the stars. Had he been mortal?
Immortal
? A
hero
, even? Either of them were possible since it seemed any number of reasons could get you constellation-status, according to Swindle. She couldn't help but feel like she was missing some crucial element that could lead them in the right direction.

"Strange…" Swindle muttered almost to himself, "He actually broke his tusk."

"
He
?" She asked.

Swindle sort of half-grinned. "Sorry. I forgot to explain. The Ares Boar
is
Ares. It's his favorite form to take, like Lord Zeus's is an eagle, or Lord Apollo's is a raven or, though he hates Bonkers, my father's is a crane." He frowned down at the tusk again. "I wonder how in the world he managed to
break
it…"

"He mus've been pretty cheesed off to do it," Ace said.

"Yes. But why? His tusk is his pride and Ares is just not any old boar. He wouldn't charge and risk his tusk if he wasn't absolutely pissed off."

"What kind of things usually make Ares mad?" She asked.

Ace snorted. "
Everythin
'. He's a hot head. A crazy, violent, jealous, blood-thirsty hot head."

Jealousy
.

A lightbulb went off inside her head, and somehow, the pieces of this puzzle started to come together for her. She had no clue how or why her mind had decided that this was the moment that things would start to make a little sense, but she went with it.

She dug into the past filed away in the Knowledge, looking for proof that her thinking was correct. She looked for memories of lovers, praying that she would find the one she had seen flash through her mind only once before. There were many passionate memories, a lot of them Apollo's. Though he looked different in almost every single one, just like the pictures in the music hall, his eyes gave him away. Those piercing eyes that were bluer than the sky could ever be.

And then she found the knowledge she had been looking for and she understood why she had never recognized the mesmerizing woman in her dream, the woman with hair that hung to the floor. Gods liked to change their appearances. But Chloe knew this was the same woman, in her gut. She was cradled over the body of a dying man who was bleeding from his abdomen. Her auburn hair was long, but curly, and her majestic face was stained with tears.

It was ironic to have death centered in such a lively scene. Surrounding the couple, the forest was bright and full of life. There were flowers and birds, and plenty of greenery and the sun was peeping through the tree tops in broken fragments.

She noticed something else too. She had been in this forest before.

It was the forest in Corinth.

Aphrodite
, she thought to herself,
the patroness of Corinth and lover of
Ares. Aphrodite was the auburn haired woman in the memory––-the statuesque woman from her dream. She could not see the person’s face or any distinguishing features, but he was a man and she knew who he was––the reason Ares had become angry enough to snap his tusk in two.

The Most Beautiful wasn’t a
thing.
It was a
him.