The Dark Prophecy by Rick Riordan

Lester, slap yourself

Oh, for just one night without

Looking like a fool

I HAD NO LUCK WITH THE HAIKU.

I kept getting stuck on the first line, I don’t want to die, and couldn’t think of anything to add. I hate elaborating when the main idea is so perfectly clear.

The Hunters of Artemis bedded down in the griffin roosts after setting trip wires and motion-sensor alarms. They always did this whenever I camped with them, which I found silly. Sure, when I was a god, I used to flirt with them shamelessly, but I never went further than that. And as Lester? I had no wish to die with a thousand silver arrows in my chest. If nothing else, the Hunters should have trusted my self-interest.

Thalia, Emmie, and Josephine sat together at the kitchen table for a long while, conversing in hushed tones. I hoped they were discussing more Hunter secrets—some deadly weapons they could use against Commodus’s armies. Moon–ballistic missiles, perhaps. Or moon-napalm.

Meg hadn’t bothered finding a guest room. She’d crashed on the nearest couch and was snoring away.

I stood nearby, not ready to go back to the room I shared with Leo Valdez. I watched the moon rise through the giant rose window above Josephine’s workstation.

A voice at my shoulder said, “Not tired?”

It was a good thing I was no longer god of the sun. If someone had startled me that badly in my chariot, I would’ve charged upward so fast that high noon would’ve happened at 6:00 A.M.

Jimmy stood next to me, a dapper apparition in brown. The moonlight gleamed copper on his scalp. His necklace of red and white beads peeked from beneath the collar of his dress shirt.

“Oh!” I said. “Um…Nah.” I leaned against the wall, hoping to look casual, attractive, and suave. Unfortunately, I missed the wall.

Jimmy was kind enough to pretend not to notice. “You should try to sleep,” he rumbled. “The challenge you face tomorrow…” Worry lines creased his forehead. “I cannot imagine.”

Sleep seemed like an alien concept, especially now, with my heart chunk-chunk-chunking like a defective pedal boat. “Oh, I don’t sleep much. I used to be a god, you know.” I wondered if flexing my muscles would help prove this point. I decided it would not. “And you? Are you a demigod?”

Jimmy grunted. “An interesting word. I would say I am e·lo·mìíràn—one of the others. I am also a graduate accounting student at Indiana University.”

I had no idea what to do with that information. I could think of no topics of conversation that would make me look interesting to a graduate student of accounting. I also hadn’t realized how much older Jimmy was than me. I mean mortal Lester me, not god me. I was confused.

“But Sssssarah said you worked for Commodus?” I recalled. “You’re a gladiator?”

The edges of his mouth tugged downward. “Not a gladiator. I only fight on weekends for money. Mixed martial arts. Gidigbo and Dambe.”

“I don’t know what those are.”

He chuckled. “Most people don’t. They are Nigerian martial-art forms. The first, Gidigbo, is a wrestling style of my people, the Yoruba. The other is a Hausa sport, more violent, but I like it.”

“I see,” I said, though in fact I didn’t.

Even in ancient times, I had been woefully ignorant of anything below the Saharan Desert. We Olympians tended to stay in our own neighborhood around the Mediterranean, which was, I agree, terribly cliquish. “You fight for money?”

“To pay my tuition,” Jimmy agreed. “I did not know what I was getting into with this emperor person.”

“And yet you survived,” I noted. “You can see that the world is, uh, much stranger than most mortals realize. You, Jimmy, must have lots of ìgboyà.”

His laughter was deep and rich. “Very good. My name is actually Olujime. For most Americans, Jimmy is easier.”

I understood. I’d only been a mortal for a few months and I was getting very tired of spelling out Papadopoulos.

“Well, Olujime,” I said, “I’m pleased to meet you. We are lucky to have such a defender.”

“Mmm.” Olujime nodded gravely. “If we survive tomorrow, perhaps the Waystation can use an accountant. A piece of real estate so complex…there are many tax implications.”

“Uh—”

“I am joking,” he offered. “My girlfriend says I joke too much.”

“Uh.”This time I sounded like I’d been kicked in the gut. “Your girlfriend. Yes. Will you excuse me?”

I fled.

Stupid Apollo. Of course Olujime had a girlfriend. I didn’t know who or what he was, or why fate had dragged him into our strange little world, but obviously someone so interesting would not be single. Besides, he was much too old for me, or young, depending on how you looked at it. I decided not to look at it at all.

Exhausted but restless, I wandered the shifting corridors until I stumbled upon a small library. When I say library, I mean the old-fashioned kind without books, just scrolls stacked in cubbies. Ah, the smell of papyrus brought me back!

I sat at the table in the center of the room and remembered the chats I used to have in Alexandria with the philosopher Hypatia. Now she was a smart melomakarona. I wished she were here now. I could’ve used her advice on how to survive the Cave of Trophonius.

Alas, at present, my only advisor was stuck in the quiver on my back. Reluctantly, I pulled out the Arrow of Dodona and set it on the table.

The shaft of the arrow rattled against the table. LONG HAST THOU KEPT ME QUIVERED. VERILY, THY LEVELS OF STUPID ASTOUND ME.

“Have you ever wondered,” I asked, “why you have no friends?”

UNTRUE, said the arrow. EACH BRANCH OF DODONA’S SACRED GROVE, EACH TWIG AND ROOT—TO ALL OF THESE, I AM MOST DEAR.

I doubted that. More likely, when it had come time to choose a branch to carve into an arrow to send on a quest with me, the entire grove had unanimously elected this particularly annoying length of ash. Even sacred Oracles could only stand hearing forsooth and verily so many times.

“Then tell me,” I said, “O, Wise Arrow, most dear to all manner of trees, how do we get to the Cave of Trophonius? And how do Meg and I survive?”

The arrow’s fletching rippled. THOU SHALT TAKE A CAR.

“That’s it?”

LEAVEST THOU WELL BEFORE DAWN. ’TIS A COUNTER-COMMUTE, AYE, BUT THERE SHALL BE CONSTRUCTION ON HIGHWAY THIRTY-SEVEN. EXPECTEST THOU TO TRAVEL ONE HOUR AND FORTY-TWO MINUTES.

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you somehow…checking Google Maps?”

A long pause. OF COURSE NOT. FIE UPON YOU. AS FOR HOW THOU SHALT SURVIVE, ASK ME THIS ANON, WHEN THOU REACHEST THY DESTINATION.

“Meaning you need time to research the Cave of Trophonius on Wikipedia?”

I SHALL SAY NO MORE TO YOU, BASE VILLAIN! THOU ART NOT WORTHY OF MY SAGE ADVICE!

“I’m not worthy?” I picked up the arrow and shook it. “You’re no help at all, you useless piece of—!”

“Apollo?” Calypso stood in the doorway.

Next to her, Leo grinned. “We didn’t realize you were arguing with your arrow. Should we come back later?”

I sighed. “No, come in.”

The two of them sat across from me. Calypso laced her fingers on the table like a teacher at a parent conference.

Leo did his best to impersonate someone capable of being serious. “So, uh, listen, Apollo—”

“I know,” I said miserably.

He blinked as if I’d thrown welding sparks in his eyes. “You do?”

“Assuming we live through tomorrow,” I said, “you two intend to remain at the Waystation.”

They both stared at the table. A little more weeping and pulling of hair might have been nice, some heartfelt sobs of Please forgive us! But I guessed that was more apology than Lester Papadopoulos deserved.

“How did you know?” Calypso asked.

“The serious conversations with our hosts?” I said. “The furtive glances?”

“Hey, man,” Leo said. “I’m not furtive. I’ve got zero furtivity.”

I turned to Calypso. “Josephine has a wonderful workshop for Leo. And she can teach you to regain your magic. Emmie has gardens worthy of your old home, Ogygia.”

“My old prison,” Calypso corrected, though her voice carried no anger.

Leo fidgeted. “It’s just…Josephine reminds me so much of my mom. She needs help around here. The Waystation may be a living building, but it’s almost as high-maintenance as Festus.”

Calypso nodded. “We’ve been traveling so much, Apollo, in constant danger for months. It’s not just the magic and the gardens that appeal to me. Emmie says we could live like normal young people in this city. Even go to the local high school.”

If not for the seriousness in her eyes, I might have laughed. “You—a former immortal even older than I—you want to go to high school?”

“Hey, man,” Leo said. “Neither of us has ever had a chance of a normal life.”

“We would like to see,” Calypso continued, “what we would be like together, and separately, in the mortal world. Taking things more slowly. Dating. Boyfriend. Girlfriend. Perhaps…hanging out with friends.”

She spoke these words as if they were infused with an exotic spice—a taste she wished to savor.

“The thing is, Lester Man,” Leo said, “we promised to help you. We’re worried about leaving you on your own.”

Their eyes were so full of concern—concern for me—that I had to swallow back a lump in my throat. Six weeks we had been traveling together. Most of that time, I had fervently wished I could be anywhere else, with anyone else. But with the exception of my sister, had I ever shared so many experiences with anyone? I realized, gods help me, that I was going to miss these two.

“I understand.” I had to force the words out. “Josephine and Emmie are good people. They can offer you a home. And I won’t be alone. I have Meg now. I don’t intend to lose her again.”

Leo nodded. “Yeah, Meg’s a fireball. Takes one to know one.”

“Besides,” Calypso said, “we won’t…what’s the expression…skip off the radar completely.”

“Drop,” I suggested. “Though skipping sounds more fun.”

“Yeah,” Leo said. “We’ve still got a lot of demigodly stuff to do. At some point, I gotta reconnect with my other peeps: Jason, Piper, Hazel, Frank. Lotta people out there still want to punch me.”

“And we have to survive tomorrow,” Calypso added.

“Right, babe. Good call.” Leo tapped the table in front of me. “Point is, ese, we’re not going to abandon you. If you need us, holler. We’ll be there.”

I blinked back tears. I was not sad. I was not overwhelmed by their friendship. No, it had just been a very long day and my nerves were frayed.

“I appreciate it,” I said. “You are both good friends.”

Calypso wiped her eyes. No doubt she was just tired as well. “Let’s not get carried away. You are still hugely annoying.”

“And you are still a pain in the gloutos, Calypso.”

“Okay, then.” She smirked. “Now we all really should get some rest. Busy morning ahead.”

“Ugh.” I clawed at my hair. “I don’t suppose you could summon a wind spirit for me? I have to drive to the Cave of Trophonius tomorrow, and I have neither a chariot nor a car.”

“A car?” Leo grinned evilly. “Oh, I can hook you up with one of those!”