The Dark Prophecy by Rick Riordan
Of course it’s a trap
With her, it always is one
Trappy McTrapface
BRITOMARTIS JUMPEDfrom the ledge and landed in a kneeling position, her skirts spread around her in a pool of netting.
(She loves those dramatic entrances. She is such an anime-character wannabe.)
The goddess rose. She pulled out her hunting knife. “Apollo, if you value your anatomy, hold still.”
I had no time to protest that I couldn’t exactly hold still while suspended in a swaying net. She slashed her knife across my groin. The net broke and spilled me to the floor, thankfully with my anatomy intact.
My landing was not graceful. Fortunately, Leo and Calypso rushed to my aid. They each took an arm and helped me up. I was reassured to see that despite their recent spat, they could still unite on important matters like my welfare.
Leo reached into his tool belt, perhaps searching for a weapon. Instead he produced a tin of breath mints. I doubted that would do us much good.
“Who is this lady?” he asked me.
“Britomartis,” I said. “The Lady of Nets.”
Leo looked dubious. “Does that include basketball and the Internet?”
“Just hunting and fishing nets,” I said. “She is one of my sister’s minions.”
“Minion?”Britomartis wrinkled her nose. “I am no minion.”
Behind us, Josephine coughed. “Uh, sorry, Apollo. The Lady insisted on getting your attention this way.”
The goddess’s face brightened. “Well, I had to see if he would step in my trap. And he did. As usual. Hemithea, Josephine…give us the room, please.”
Our hosts glanced at each other, probably wondering which of them would have to clean up the bodies after Britomartis was through with us. Then they retreated through a doorway at the back of the hall.
Calypso sized up the net goddess. “Britomartis, eh? Never heard of you. You must be minor.”
Britomartis smiled thinly. “Oh, but I’ve heard of you, Calypso. Exiled to Ogygia after the Titan War. Waiting for whatever man might wash up on your shores to break your heart and leave you alone again. That must have gotten terribly old.” She turned to Leo. “This is your rescuer, eh? A bit short and scruffy for a knight in shining armor.”
“Hey, lady.” Leo shook his tin of breath mints. “I’ve blown up way more powerful goddesses than you before.”
“And he’s not my rescuer,” Calypso added.
“Yeah!” Leo frowned. “Wait, I kind of was, actually.”
“Nor is he a knight,” Calypso mused. “Although he is short and scruffy.”
A puff of smoke rose from Leo’s collar. “Anyway”—he faced Britomartis—“where do you get off ordering Jo and Emmie around like this is your house?”
I grabbed his breath mints before Britomartis could transform them into nitroglycerin. “Leo, I’m afraid this is her house.”
The goddess gave me that coquettish smile I hated so much—the one that made me feel as if hot nectar were bubbling in my stomach. “Why, Apollo, you made a correct deduction! How did you manage it?”
Whenever I was faced with Britomartis, I made myself just a bit taller than she. Alas, now I could not change my height at will. The best I could do was push up on the balls of my feet.
“Nero called this place the House of Nets,” I said. “I should’ve realized the Waystation was your idea. Whenever my sister wanted to design some elaborate contraption—something twisted and dangerous—she always turned to you.”
The goddess curtsied, swirling her net skirts. “You flatter me. Now come, my friends! Let’s sit and talk!”
She gestured to the nearest cluster of sofas.
Leo approached the furniture cautiously. For all his faults, he was not stupid. Calypso was about to sink into an armchair when Leo caught her wrist. “Hold up.”
From his tool belt he pulled a folding yardstick. He extended it and poked the chair’s seat cushion. A bear trap snapped shut, ripping through stuffing and fabric like an upholstery sharknado.
Calypso glared at Britomartis. “Are you kidding?”
“Oops!” Britomartis said gleefully.
Leo pointed to one of the sofas, though I could see nothing amiss. “There’s a trip wire along the back of those cushions, too. Does that…Does that trigger a Bouncing Betty?”
Britomartis laughed. “You’re good! Yes, indeed. That is a modified pressure-activated S-mine.”
“Lady, if that went off, it would bounce three feet in the air, explode, and kill all of us with shrapnel.”
“Exactly!” Britomartis said with delight. “Leo Valdez, you’ll do nicely.”
Leo glowered at her. He pulled some wire cutters from his belt, walked over to the sofa, and deactivated the mine.
I took a breath for the first time in several seconds. “I think I’ll sit…over here.” I pointed to the opposite sofa. “Is that safe?”
Leo grunted. “Yeah. Looks okay.”
Once we were all comfortably settled in, with no one mangled or killed, Britomartis lounged across the formerly bear-trapped armchair and smiled. “Well, isn’t this nice?”
“No,” the three of us chorused.
Britomartis toyed with her braid, possibly looking for trip wires she might have forgotten about. “You asked me why I sent Jo and Emmie away. I love them dearly, but I don’t think they’d appreciate the quest I’m about to give you.”
“Quest?” Calypso arched her eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure I’m an older divinity than you, Bouncing Betty. What right do you have to give me a quest?”
Britomartis flashed that flirty smile. “Aren’t you cute. Hon, I was around when the ancient Greeks were living in caves. I started out as a Cretan goddess. When the rest of my pantheon died out, Artemis befriended me. I joined her Hunters and here I am, thousands of years later, still weaving my nets and setting my traps.”
“Yes,” I grumbled. “Here you are.”
The goddess spread her arms. Lead weights and fishing hooks dangled from her embroidered sleeves. “Dear Apollo, you really do make a darling Lester Papadopoulos. Come here.”
“Don’t tease me,” I begged.
“I’m not! Now that you’re a harmless mortal, I’ve decided to finally give you that kiss.”
I knew she was lying. I knew that her dress would entangle me and hurt me. I recognized the malicious gleam in her rust-red eyes.
She had led me astray so many times over the millennia.
I flirted shamelessly with all my sister’s followers. But Britomartis was the only one who ever flirted back, even though she was just as much an avowed maiden as any Hunter. She delighted in tormenting me. And how many times had she pranked me by offering to set me up with other people? Gah! Artemis had never been known for her sense of humor, but her sidekick Britomartis more than made up for that. She was insufferable. Beautiful, but insufferable.
I admit I was tempted. Weak mortal flesh! Even weaker than divine flesh!
I shook my head. “You’re tricking me. I won’t do it.”
She looked offended. “When have I ever tricked you?”
“Thebes!” I cried. “You promised to meet me in the forest for a romantic picnic. Instead I was trampled by a giant wild boar!”
“That was a misunderstanding.”
“What about the Ingrid Bergman incident?”
“Oh, she really did want to meet you. How was I to know someone had dug a Burmese tiger pit outside her trailer?”
“And the date with Rock Hudson?”
Britomartis shrugged. “Well, I never actually said he was waiting for you in the middle of that minefield. I just let you assume. You have to admit, though, the two of you would’ve made a cute couple.”
I whimpered and pulled my curly mortal hair. Britomartis knew me too well. I was a fool for being in a cute couple.
Leo looked back and forth between us as if he’d stumbled across a heated game of Greek fire toss. (It was big in Byzantium. Don’t ask.)
“Rock Hudson,” he said. “In a minefield.”
Britomartis beamed. “Apollo was so adorable, skipping through the daisies until he exploded.”
“In case you’ve forgotten,” I muttered, “I am no longer immortal. So, please, no Burmese tiger pits.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it!” said the goddess. “No, this quest isn’t designed to kill you. It might kill you, but it’s not designed to. I just want my griffins back.”
Calypso frowned. “Your griffins?”
“Yes,” the goddess said. “They are winged lion-eagle hybrids with—”
“I know what a griffin is,” Calypso said. “I know Jo and Emmie breed them here. But why are they yours?”
I coughed. “Calypso, griffins are the goddess’s sacred animals. She is their mother.”
Britomartis rolled her eyes. “Only in a figurative sense. I don’t sit on their eggs and hatch them.”
“You convinced me to do that once,” I recalled. “For a kiss I never got.”
She laughed. “Yes, I’d forgotten about that! At any rate, the local emperor has captured my babies Heloise and Abelard. In fact, he’s been capturing mythical animals from all over the Midwest to use in his diabolic games. They must be freed.”
Leo studied the disassembled land mine pieces in his lap. “The kid. Georgina. That’s why you don’t want Jo and Emmie here. You’re putting your griffins’ safety ahead of their daughter’s.”
Britomartis shrugged. “Jo and Emmie’s priorities have been compromised. They would not be able to hear this, but the griffins must come first. I have my reasons. Being a goddess, my needs take precedence.”
Calypso sniffed with disgust. “You’re as greedy and territorial as your babies.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” said the goddess. “I promised Artemis I would try to help you three, but don’t test my patience. You’d look wonderful as a northern crested newt.”
A mixture of hope and sadness welled in my chest. Artemis, my loving sister, had not abandoned me after all. Zeus may have forbidden the other Olympians from helping me, but at least Artemis had sent her lieutenant Britomartis. Of course, Britomartis’s idea of “help” involved testing us with land mines and bear traps, but at this point I would take what I could get.
“And if we find these griffins?” I asked.
“Then I’ll tell you how to infiltrate the emperor’s lair,” Britomartis promised. “Being the goddess of traps, I know all about secret entrances!”
I stared at her. “How is that a fair trade?”
“Because, you adorable Lester, you need to infiltrate the palace to rescue Georgina and the other prisoners. Without them, the Waystation is doomed, and so are your chances of stopping the Triumvirate. Also, the palace is where you’ll find the Throne of Memory. If you can’t retrieve that, your trip to the Cave of Trophonius will kill you. You’ll never save the other Oracles. You’ll never get back to Mount Olympus.”
I turned to Leo. “I’m new to this heroic-quest business. Shouldn’t there be a reward at the end? Not just more deadly quests?”
“Nope,” Leo said. “This is pretty standard.”
Oh, the injustice! A minor goddess forcing me, one of the twelve Olympians, to retrieve animals for her! I silently vowed that if I ever regained my godhood, I would never again send a poor mortal on a quest. Unless it was really important. And unless I was sure the mortal could handle it. And unless I was pressed for time…or I just really didn’t feel like doing it myself. I would be much kinder and more generous than this net goddess was being to me.
“What would you have us do?” I asked Britomartis. “Wouldn’t these griffins be held at the emperor’s palace? Couldn’t we do some one-stop shopping?”
“Oh, no,” Britomartis said. “The really important animals, the rare and valuable ones…the emperor keeps those in a special facility with the proper resources to care for them. The Indianapolis Zoo.”
I shuddered. I find zoos to be depressing places, full of sad caged animals, screaming children, and bad food.
“The griffins will be well guarded,” I guessed.
“Absolutely!” Britomartis sounded a bit too excited about the prospect. “So please try to release the griffins before you get injured or killed. Also, you must hurry—”
“Here comes the time limit.” Leo looked at me knowingly. “There’s always a time limit.”
“In three days,” Britomartis continued, “the emperor plans to use all the animals and prisoners in one massive celebration.”
“A naming ceremony,” I recalled. “Nanette, the blemmyae who almost killed us, she mentioned something about that.”
“Indeed.” Britomartis grimaced. “This emperor…he loves naming things after himself. At the ceremony, he plans to rechristen Indianapolis.”
That in itself did not strike me as a tragedy. Indianapolis was a rather difficult name to love. However, if this emperor was who I thought he was, his idea of a celebration involved slaughtering people and animals by the thousands. He really was not the sort of person you wanted organizing your child’s birthday party.
“The blemmyae mentioned something else,” I said. “The emperor wanted to sacrifice two special prisoners. Me and the girl.”
Calypso clasped her hands like the jaws of the bear trap. “Georgina.”
“Exactly!” Britomartis again sounded a bit too cheerful. “The girl is safe enough for now. Imprisoned and insane, yes, but alive. You concentrate on freeing my griffins. Go to the zoo at first light. The emperor’s guards will be ending their night shift then. They’ll be tired and inattentive.”
I gazed at the land mine pieces in Leo’s hands. Death by explosion was starting to sound like a kinder fate than Britomartis’s quest.
“At least I won’t be alone,” I muttered.
“Actually,” said the goddess, “Leo Valdez must remain here.”
Leo flinched. “Say what?”
“You’ve proven yourself skilled with traps!” the goddess explained. “Emmie and Josephine need your help. The Waystation has defied discovery by the emperor so far, but that won’t last much longer. He can’t tolerate any opposition. He will find this sanctuary. And he means to destroy it. You, Leo Valdez, can help shore up the defenses.”
“But—”
“Cheer up!” Britomartis faced Calypso. “You can go with Apollo, my dear. Two former immortals on a quest for me! Yes, I like that idea a lot.”
Calypso paled. “But…No. I don’t—”
“She can’t,” I added.
The sorceress nodded emphatically. “We don’t get along, so—”
“It’s settled, then!” The goddess rose from her chair. “I’ll meet you back here when you have my griffins. Don’t fail me, mortals!” She clapped her hands with glee. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to say that!”
She twirled and disappeared in a flash like a fishing lure, leaving nothing behind but a few treble hooks snagged in the carpet.
