by Sadie Anders
“For a portal keeper, the Apollonian doesn’t seem to spend much time near the portal,” I joked. Raphael laughed.
“His primary talents lie elsewhere. I’ll sing a paean to attract him.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. “Okay. Go for it,” I said, wanting to see what happened next.
Raphael closed his eyes and quietly began chanting a language that I did not know, but one that still felt familiar to me. His voice started out softly, almost a whisper, but the song took flight on the wind and began echoing all around me. It was almost as if you could see and feel the sound waves rippling out in concentric circles from our center.
A few moments later, Raphael smiled at someone behind me. I turned quickly, startled at not having heard anyone approach. It was the Apollonian, tall and statuesque. His auburn hair glimmered in the light, and his huge, orb-like eyes reflected the tiny pinpricks of starlight that made its way through the purple canopy of sky.
He tilted his head, assessing us.
“Your aura,” he said. “It is not correct. False. There is a dissonance that I cannot resolve.”
This glamour hadn’t really been fooling anyone, apparently.
“I apologize,” Raphael responded. He reached into his satchel and retrieved a small vial. He uncorked it and took a tiny sip. Raphael’s glamour shimmered, and soon he was Raphael once more. He handed me the bottle, and I did the same.
“Greetings, guardian,” the Apollonian said to Raphael. The front half of his body descended into a bow. Raphael embraced him warmly. He turned to me. “And young Alya. Seeing you again pleases my soul.”
“I’m happy to see you again, too,” I said. We exited the river, returning to the shore to walk alongside the centaur.
“Thank you for coming, Chiron. We seek your help,” Raphael told him.
“You know I do not guard the portal anymore. I cannot help you leave this realm,” he responded.
That was news to me. No wonder he hadn’t been at the portal when I came through. I would have preferred to have him greet me over Galba. That guy made my skin crawl.
“You aren’t the portal keeper any longer?” I asked.
Raphael shook his head. “It’s all part of the restriction on everyone’s liberty imposed by the Furies. Ever since the rebellion has gained momentum, the Furies have forbidden travel in and out of the realm. The portals are closed unless the Furies explicitly open one for someone to go through, like they did when they had you come over,” Raphael said.
“And, alas, they no longer trust the portal keepers who are not vampires,” the Apollonian said. “I have been relieved of my position. The portals are closed, and I am an untrustworthy creature of low status in their eyes.”
“You will never be so in mine,” Raphael told him. “You are the finest there is, Chiron.”
Chiron nodded his head at this. “Thank you, friend.” He stared up at the sky for several moments, then spoke to us again. “What may I do for you this fine day, then?”
“We are seeking someone, and we thought you might be able to help us,” I said. “The Oracle of Apollo.”
“You wish to commune with Apollo, the one who raised me?” he asked, genuinely surprised. “To what end?”
“We’re seeking the Phos Eos,” Raphael said. “And we aren’t the only ones.”
The centaur sharply focused on us. “This news is unsettling,” he said. “The Phos Eos has the potential to devastate this realm. It does not belong in Asphodel. It belongs in the Land of Light.”
“You believe it exists?” Raphael asked.
“With certainty,” he replied. Raphael still looked skeptical about it. Why was he so determined to deny its existence? Perhaps it was too frightening to wrap your mind around, something that could obliterate all vampires in one fell swoop. It seemed like a ghastly weapon of mass destruction.
I was with the Apollonian. It sounded like that thing should stay in the Empyrean.
The Apollonian looked at us both for a long time. He extended his hands, taking ours into his own. Closing his eyes, a look of concentration crossed his face. I felt warmth radiating up my body, then a sort of probing feeling, like someone was looking inside the hidden doors that were closed in my mind. It was inexplicable how it felt that way, but there was no other way to describe it. He reopened his eyes, a look of wonder having overtaken him.
“It is intriguing that you two are the ones to seek the Phos Eos. Intriguing indeed.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“Because of the connection. I cannot say more. Self-discovery is a winding path that must be traversed, a journey like no other. You cannot arrive at the destination before you have even begun.”
Great. More cryptic talk from the Asphodel crew.
“I see.”
I didn’t.
“Who are the others seeking this device?” he asked me.
“Ember and the snatchers. Tisiphone. We aren’t sure of their plans, but they can’t be good.”
“And you are searching for this treasure of your own accord?” he asked. “To protect it from them?”
“Not exactly. The two ruling Furies are insisting that we find it,” I said.
His mouth settled into a grim frown. “Unfortunate. If it were your own will to locate it, then I would not feel this conflict. There is a certain poetry to that end. With these others, darkness may prevail.”
“So, you can’t help us?” Raphael asked.
The Apollonian was thoughtful for a moment.
“I will assist you,” he said. “But I also implore you to keep the device hidden, keep it safe from the others. Do not bestow that power upon the Furies. It is not up to me to decide the object’s fate, but if you find it, you will be its guardian, a role you are familiar with, bright one,” he said, looking at Raphael. “Guard it well. Do what your conscience dictates without fear of reprisal.”
“That’s what we all hope to do,” Raphael said.
The Apollonian seemed satisfied by this.
I had no idea how we were supposed to keep this thing from the Furies, and even if we did, how we would survive that. I didn’t want to be involved in the politics of this world, but how could I avoid that if we took such a stand? I’d have to figure that out later. For now, I had a job to do, and the plan was to give it back to the Furies, to trust that they wanted to keep it out of the hands of those that would use it. I refused to get too involved. I had a life to return to.
Chiron walked along the banks of the river, deep in thought, and we trailed behind him by a few paces. After a few minutes of doing this, he stopped in his tracks, turning to us. We waited patiently for him to speak.
“The Pythian Oracle remains hidden to most who seek her out in these times. You are fortunate that it is the correct season to obtain her counsel, yet you must make your entreaty on the specified day. There are rules for asking for an audience.”
“What day should we go?” I asked.
“On the day when the omens are favorable.”
That explained everything.
“I don’t understand.”
“You may need to wait until she is inclined to receive you. Be prepared, but ultimately, I do not believe that she will block your request. Apollo protects what is his own, and his oracle will see those who are kindred spirits. Those who are in the light.”
This was all so cryptic. I wasn’t at all sure what we needed to do.
The centaur continued. “When you are in position to have an audience with her, you must first find her priest. He will prepare you adequately for the event.”
Event? This whole thing seemed like it was more than I had bargained for. I had no idea what to do when seeking an audience with an oracle, much less how to make an event of it. That priest had better be a good coach.
“Where should we look for him?”
“He is always nearby. Never far. And remember, no question is too small for the oracle, but she may make small questions large.”
&
nbsp; “Many of the best minds do,” Raphael said. The Apollonian inclined his head in agreement.
“Leave the city as soon as you can, and your journey begins. Cross the meadows and marshes until you arrive at the valley of Phocis. There you shall seek out the hidden path, the one that will take you to the Pythia on the slope of the mount. You will know it by its shining aspect.”
Shining aspect. Sounded like a clear landmark to me. Turn left at the shining aspect. Got it.
“Thank you, Chiron,” Raphael said. “You have helped set us on the path ahead. We appreciate it.”
“When you are there, please, send my gratitude to Apollo in the proper ways. Without him, I would be nothing. With him, everything is possible. I would do well to remember that.”
Raphael grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly. I understood. With some people, everything seemed possible. They made you feel like the most complete version of yourself, the one with the most potential. I felt invincible when I was touching Raphael. I felt empowered.
“We will make sure to, friend,” Raphael said. He bowed his head slightly to the centaur. We said our goodbyes and headed back to Aporia as the centaur stared into the misty horizon.
Ethereal music poured out of the Kylix as we arrived to rendezvous with the others. We had taken the potion to change our appearances once again. There was no use in parading around town as myself, not with Heliodor on the loose.
The crowd in the bar had gathered considerably, and we had to wait for a few minutes to find a table to claim, so I turned my attention to the small stage in the corner. Instead of Kai, a different musician had taken the spotlight, a beautiful woman with a mountain of curly hair and an ethereal voice. The song she sang was both soothing and mournful at the same time.
Raphael pulled me by the hand and swooped in on an empty table. I was glad at least one of us was paying attention. The music was too distracting for me, like threads of a spell being woven inside my brain. As we took our place at the table, a hooded Cleon came over to us. He had a small traveling sack slung over his shoulder and an expressionless face. He took the seat next to me, throwing his bag on my feet.
“Hey, Cleon,” I said, a broad smile across my face. I’d meet his surly nature with an overabundance of enthusiasm. Maybe it would rub off on him.
“Greetings, witch,” he said. At least he was more civil than he typically was, even if not a master of politeness. We would have to work on that. Raphael narrowed his eyes at him and turned his attention to watching the door. He was always on guard, always aware of our surroundings. I would have to learn to do that.
“Are you ready for our adventure?” I asked. Cheesy, but anything to get the conversation rolling. I didn’t want to sit between two brooding and silent vampires.
He lifted one eyebrow. “I am prepared. I trust you obtained the information you need to find the Oracle?”
I shrugged. “More or less. We have a place to start, at least.”
“Hmph. Very well.” He said nothing else and turned his complete attention to the singer on the stage. A hungry look came over him, as he clearly desired her. Still, I wasn’t sure if this guy wanted to bed her or to have her for a snack. With vampires, it could be both.
Kai burst into the Kylix in a fit of energy, the fabric of his green cloak billowing behind him. The people of Asphodel tended to dress in a variety of ways, from typical American-style jeans and t-shirts to eccentric ensembles, but Kai was different. He always looked like someone straight out of a film, like someone who couldn’t quite be real, and he acted like it, too. Three people followed behind him. I recognized them as the other musicians that had been performing with him before.
Kai raised his arm and pointed toward the bar. Timaeus nodded and turned to fill pint glasses from the tap behind him. As Kai approached us, he smiled at a table full of rowdy folks sitting next to us. They tipped their hats and immediately stood, allowing Kai and his friends to take their spot.
He made a little bow to them as they retreated and threw his cloak over the back of one of the chairs. “Thank you, dear patrons.” He situated his seat so that it was between the two tables.
“Kai,” I said. “Nice to see you.”
“Ah, fair one. I’d be honored to introduce my good friends into your acquaintance. Fabian, Annika, and Joe.” They each bowed their heads slightly as he said their names.
Timaeus soon approached with a huge tray of pints, one for each of us, and placed them on the two tables.
Cleon stared at the drink in front of him as if something foreign to him.
Kai stood, raising his drink in the air.
“I must depart for a brief time, dear ones. Luckily for us all, when I return, I will have new songs and new stories to share.”
His companions nodded their heads, looking a bit sad at his pronouncement. Perhaps they were lost without him. Close friends could be that way sometimes.
“To adventures,” he continued. “To reminiscing about old ones and tingling in anticipation at new ones.”
“Huzzah,” Fabian shouted.
Kai laughed. “And as anyone knows, a good quest must always be preceded by a night of revelry and reckless abandon.”
My eyebrows shot up at Raphael. He smiled and shrugged. “He’s not wrong,” he said.
“Onto the bacchanal!”
We raised our glasses and toasted Kai, and I took a sip of the drink. It was some sort of beer, but more unique than any I had ever tasted. It had a delicate sourness to it, and a hint of fruit lingered afterwards.
Kai placed his hand on Cleon’s shoulder, and, surprisingly, Cleon looked amused. He lifted his glass and took a long gulp, downing about half the glass. Apparently, he was down for revelry tonight, too. That astonished me. This place had a way with changing people’s moods, or maybe it was just Kai.
The singer finished her song and began a new one, a rousing, boisterous tune that soon had the patrons of the tavern clapping and singing along. It must have been a crowd favorite. I didn’t know the words, but I found myself trying to join in and keep up.
The bar patrons took to their feet and began dancing in time to the beat. Raphael took my hand and led me to the tiny dance floor.
During the course of our dancing, Kai shared a shot or three or four of muse mead with the two of us. The honey wine sparkled on my tongue, and I felt warm and elated.
We danced and danced.
The sounds of the crowd became louder and louder, rising to a fever pitch.
Raphael lifted me off of my feet and spun me around. The room blurred, a faded haze of colors and faces materializing before me. I laughed and leaned my head back, closing my eyes and taking in the feeling of weightlessness.
As I opened my eyes, the room was still a smear of color and textures, except for one bright spot. In the corner near the musician’s stage, I could make out one person clearly and distinctly. A young man, clean-shaven and absolutely stunning, with pure joy pouring out of his bright face. I wasn’t attracted to him, not in that way, but his presence was attractive generally. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, but I lost him over and over as Raphael turned me around the dance floor.
Each time that I spun around back towards him, though, our eyes locked immediately.
I wondered who he was.
I felt connected to him, like I felt connected to a cousin or friend. There was a familiarity.
It seemed like we were all dizzy with glee.
Spinning.
I laughed loudly.
Spinning.
I twirled back in his direction, but this time, he was gone. Raphael brought our motion to a halt, and I regained my footing. My eyes scanned the entire bar through the thick crowd of people. The young man had vanished.
I felt a pang of sadness, but I wasn’t sure why.
The music changed tone and soon shifted into a slow folk ballad. The singer’s voice, quiet and cracking with emotion, permeated the room as a simple stringed instrument backed her vocals. It was a somb
er melody in a minor key.
Raphael placed his hand on the small of my back and drew me closer to him.
“This song always wrecks me,” he said. The singer’s voice hung in the air.
Apollo did shine
For one man alone
“I’m not familiar with it,” I said. “If it’s so sad, why is everyone starting to sing along with it?”
He pitched it so high
T’would scatter the clouds.
His love pealed with joy
Took flight in its path
“It’s incredibly popular. People love to sing it, like most sad songs.” I leaned my head into Raphael’s chest and listened closely.
The west wind enraged
Stole life from their love.
The poor god did craft
From Hyacinth’s blood
A bloom immortal,
Inscribing his grief
On tender petals,
The lament, “Ai, ai.”
Each line of the song was delivered like an arrow to my gut. I didn’t know the story, the context, but it was clear that he had lost his love. That he had been robbed of that chance at happiness, an occurrence that seemed all too common in this world.
We had to take every opportunity we had to love.
“I feel a presence, like someone’s power is crawling across us, searching us,” Raphael said. I wondered if it was the person I had seen before, the young man full of life.
Raphael slowly turned me around the room, searching, masking the intention of his movements with our dancing.
Near the doorway, there was a person who stood out, even though I couldn’t see their face beneath their hood. A smoldering glow emanated from the place where their eyes should have been, like hot coals nearly extinguished.
While everyone around us had bright, wavy auras that displayed their pleasure in being here, this person had an aura that screamed a warning. Harsh, sharp crimson lines were cascading outwards like electricity. They were not here for fun. They were here for business, and they were serious.
Suddenly, I felt a connection to them, like they had tossed a rope between the two of us and all slack was pulled taut. It was so jolting that I was physically taken aback, and I briefly lost my footing. I took one step to steady myself.
