The Heir of Olympus and the Forest Realm

by Zachary Howe

Eventually he slowed to a cautious walk, barely able to see his hand in front of his face. He was certain that he would soon be swallowed by complete darkness and the thought horrified him. As his hand faded from his sight with the completion of night outside, Gordie fell to his hands and knees in utter nothingness.

  He was frozen on the ground, a terrified child in the dark, unable to walk on, unable to sleep. And then he realized, with self-loathing, that he hadn’t even thought about his mom and grandpa since he had been down beneath the Earth. Are they all right? He should have asked Hades, but he was too excited to hear about his own powers. Gordie looked up again, searching for answers from above, and started when he saw little specks of light, twinkling in the very great distance.

  Hope renewed even though he still couldn’t see anything, since the starlight didn’t fill the tunnel, but he at least had a guide, so he crawled forward. Still too afraid to stand and walk—as he wished to avoid braining himself on one of the horizontal spires—Gordie remained on his hands and knees crawling into the constant darkness, his eyes fixed on the cosmos. The constellation ahead of him was one he was vaguely familiar with, but he couldn’t recall what it was at the moment.

  For hours he made his painfully slow ascent. Joy leapt inside him when the outline of the tunnel’s exit started to appear in the distance as the sky behind it lightened. He stood and walked again, his spirits even more lifted because the round portal ahead was much larger than it had appeared earlier that night. He was not far away now.

  As dawn arose, his vision returned in full force and he broke into a joyous run. Sprinting again with renewed vigor, he felt as though he had been released from a prison. The lightening sky beckoned him and he yearned to meet it.

  No trace of night remained now, and the bright blue sky above waited patiently. Smiling like the children below chasing Cerberus, Gordie fantasized about his reunion with fresh air, which appeared to be no more than a hundred yards away. And then, at full speed, his muscles locked and his head swooned as he fell forward.

  He collapsed on the cold stone, his cheek flat against the ground. His eyes drooped. His brain begged him to allow it to sleep. Every muscle in his body screamed with pain. Even his bones felt like they were on fire. His day in the sun was up.

  Like clockwork, his twenty-four hours of strength had vanished at midnight . . . but it wasn’t midnight. It was midmorning outside. His fatigued mind struggled through the quicksand that is absolute exhaustion to find a logical answer.

  Time zones, a nearly dead whisper in the back of his brain offered.

  Gordie couldn’t really process this, but it came down to the fact that his power was gone. There was no way he could stay awake long enough to reach his goal. As he started to give in, letting his eyes droop, he panicked. What if I roll over in my sleep? Does it count as looking back then? It can’t! That’s not fair!

  “It’s not fair!” he yelled, his outburst echoing through the cavern. Like pulling a sword from a stone, he raised himself back to his hands and knees, lifted his right hand, and slapped himself across the face. And again. And again.

  Taking deep, steadying breaths he started to crawl again. If he had been any less drained, he might have been ashamed of the indignity of this infantile scrambling, but he was just too tired to feel any sense of pride at the moment.

  Inch by hourly inch, he dragged his hands and knees in a drunken stupor. He didn’t even have the strength to lift his head to see how far he had to go. As he carried on like a sloth, he began to tremble. His body had endured too much over the last day. It needed to rest, maybe even to slip into a coma. Tears began to roll from his eyes as he trudged on, praying for the end. Fatigue makes cowards of us all. One of his father’s clichés echoed in his mind—Gordie finally understood the old adage.

  The gentle slope of the tunnel now felt like climbing a ninety-degree cliff, but he clambered on. His route became a staggered zigzag, too tired to crawl in a straight line. He dropped to his stomach and started dragging himself in an army crawl. The stone beneath his hands began to lighten into a soft grey, but it took Gordie a couple minutes to realize this meant he was nearing the exit. He lifted his head to see the circular cave mouth ten feet before him with some sort of large, black frame in the shape of an arch. The tears in his eyes flowed stronger.

  He was merely five feet away, about to slide into the light of victory, when a voice reached his ears from behind.

  “Gordo?”

  Gordie’s entire nervous system felt as if it had shut down. He was cemented to the ground. He heard the wind whistle outside the cave, felt the warmth of the morning on his face. His breath stopped as his heart pounded and his stomach lurched. Even his tears stopped flowing.

  “Dad?” Gordie’s voice cracked and his fright echoed off the cave walls as he returned his father’s call.

  “Gordo, don’t leave me down here. Come back for me!” Robert called.

  Gordie started to turn around, wanting more than anything to see his dad’s face, but before he looked back he stopped. Every ounce of him screamed to run back to his father, but what little brain function he had left told him to stay true. His aching heart told him that if he did not go back he would be guilty of abandonment and neglect. His nearly extinct sense of reason told him that his father was not truly there, and that he could not help him.

  “No,” he called back, his eyes brimming again. “I know it’s not you, Dad.” Tears leaked and then flowed as a torrent of sadness consumed him. “It can’t be you,” Gordie explained, still too tired to think through the problem in his head. “You don’t remember me.”

  “No, Gordo! It’s me! Come back!” Robert screamed, terror in his cries.

  “I’m sorry, Dad.” Gordie turned forward, unable to see through the tears as he crawled towards the light.

  “GORDIE!” The phantom voice of his father rang in his ears as he crawled through an invisible water-wall, like the one at the cave’s entrance, and collapsed on the ground, breathing raggedly, sobbing into the dirt.

  But his despair was immediately interrupted.

  Gordie’s body rose into the air like a marionette, his limbs outstretched. A golden aura surrounded him, pulsating in the bright morning light, making the sun’s glow seem like a desk lamp. A surge of energy burst within him, spreading outward from his stomach to every inch of his body. His muscles bulged, visibly growing like they were being inflated. He started screaming, one loud scream that continued to pour out of him. Power was coursing through his body, so much power that he felt as though he would explode. His whole body was on fire—maybe even actually on fire—he could not tell.

  Roaring at the top of his lungs, certain that he was on the verge of being torn apart, the pain ceased in an instant, and his glow disappeared as he fell back to the ground, landing face-first in dust.

  As Gordie faded into unconsciousness, he heard the sound of hoof beats, as if a horse were galloping to him from miles away. He was hoisted into the air by two powerful arms, and saw the blur of a man’s face with a black curly mane and beard swirl into sight before he succumbed to sleep.

  ***

  Gordie was running towards his father on a flat rock outcropping, pelted by wind, rain, thunder, and lightning in the black of night. Robert was screaming his son’s name in horrible pain.

  “Hang on, Dad!” Gordie called back.

  Robert was on the ground, Zeus standing over him, stomping on his chest, laughing his terrible laugh. Gordie could hear bones cracking with every stomp.

  “I’ll kill you!” Gordie screamed, angry tears flowing in his eyes. He was still running, but not getting any closer. Then Zeus lifted a jagged spear of lighting above his head and looked at Gordie. The spear crackled with live electricity.

  “He died because of you,” Zeus said with a sneer as he thrust the electric javelin through Robert Leonhart’s chest, skewering him to the ground.

  “NO!” Gordie flailed about, captured in some kind of cotton net. “No! Dad!” he
wrestled to free himself from his bonds.

  “Gordie?” A woman’s voice sounded startled and concerned. “Gordie, calm down. It was just a dream.”

  “No!” Gordie was still thrashing when a hand gently grabbed his shoulder, and his panting began to slow as he looked into his mom’s glistening eyes.

  “It’s okay. It was just a bad dream.” Ellie Leonhart wrapped her son in a hug.

  “Mom!” Gordie gasped. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course I am, sweetie. Are you feeling okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” His breathing slowly returned to normal. “Where are we?”

  Looking around, Gordie’s fear melted into confusion. They appeared to be in a cave of sorts, which he did not find all that comforting—frankly, he was tired of caves. He was grateful, however, that this did not appear to be the Underworld. He was in a small wooden bed, with his mom perched on the side, stroking his hair. A chair sat on the opposite wall beneath a torch, a blanket draped over it. On the bare stone floor was Gordie’s carry-on bag. There was some clamor through the adjacent corridor and a voice he recognized echoed into the bedroom.

  “Grandpa’s here too?” Gordie asked, delighted.

  “Yes,” Ellie smiled, her eyes no longer wet. “And you may not believe this,” she continued, shaking her head, “but we’re in Chiron’s home. Or the cave where he lived a couple thousand years ago, anyways. He’s been sprucing it up while you’ve been sleeping.”

  “That makes sense,” Gordie said. Ellie looked at her son with obvious concern for his sanity as a giant smile spread across his face. “I did it!” Gordie yelled and leapt to his feet on the bed.

  “You did what?” she asked in amused alarm.

  “I led Chiron out of Hades! HELL YEAH!”

  “Sit down,” she said, yanking him back to the bed. “Do you have any idea how worried I was about you, young man?”

  “What do you want from me? It’s not like I chose to go there! Hermes threw me out of the friggin’ plane!”

  “That’s no excuse.” In fact, it was a very good one, Gordie thought. “You should have told me where you were going.”

  “I wasn’t given that opportunity,” he snapped back. “How did you get here anyways?”

  “Well, when we got off the plane, we couldn’t find you. We went running around the airport for hours until we ran into a familiar-looking chauffeur with a sign holding our names. Hermes,” she explained in response to Gordie’s quizzical look.

  “He doesn’t really take no for an answer, does he?”

  “He told us that he knew where you were and that he would take us to you, so we went willingly. When he brought us here, you weren’t around, and I nearly killed him.”

  I doubt it, Gordie thought to himself.

  “He assured us that you would be here by the next day, and without any idea where to look, we waited. I stayed up all that night, looking out the cave entrance, just waiting. At about ten-thirty in the morning, I heard a horse galloping, carrying two people. Well, at least that’s what I thought I saw.” Again she shook her head in disbelief.

  “When he showed up I just stared in awe, but there you were, fast asleep on his back. That was three days ago. You’ve been asleep until now.” Gordie then understood the chair in the corner with the blanket and his heart swelled.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m okay though, I promise.” He smiled as she hugged him again. They broke apart after a couple minutes.

  “So, Hades, huh?”

  “Yup, Hades,” Gordie said.

  “Well? Are you gonna tell me about it?” she asked, like a girl begging for juicy gossip.

  “Oh, yeah!” Gordie said, and he recounted every second of his journey to the Underworld. Ellie was a great audience: she oohed and ahhed in all the right places. She was fascinated to hear about Gordie’s fast friendship with Cerberus and equally shocked to hear how benevolent Hades was. When Gordie told her about Zeus’s interruption, she became deeply pensive.

  “Good God,” she muttered under her breath, hearing about the threats of the Olympian King.

  When Gordie told her about his task and the illusion of his father’s voice, she became watery-eyed again and hugged him.

  “I’m so proud of you,” Ellie whispered as she held her son.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Gordie patted her on the back. “Can we go see Grandpa?”

  “Sure.” She sniffled, but when they broke apart, no trace of tears stained her cheeks.

  They got up and Gordie dressed with clothes Ellie had laid out for him—cargo shorts and a white tee—before they headed to the next room.

  “So what’s Chiron like?” Gordie asked his mom, fascinated by the notion of being in a centaur’s home.

  “He’s very kind,” she smiled. “He has taken care of you since the minute you arrived. I owe him my life for bringing you back.”

  “Well, to be fair, I actually brought him back, but who’s keeping score?”

  “Of course you did, sweetie,” Ellie said as she wrapped her arm around him, leading him to the next room. As they rounded a bend, a Great Hall opened up before them, and Gordie stopped in wonder.

  The ceiling was at least thirty feet above his head, with great skylights flooding the chamber with sun. A giant fireplace crackled against a wall to his left with a large stone table in front of it where Atalo sat grinning broadly with a great mug in hand. The room was quite austere beyond that.

  “Gordo!” Atalo boomed as he put down his vessel, rose and approached him in great strides, and lifted him into a bone-crushing hug.

  “Hey, Grandpa,” Gordie coughed, trying to pat him on the back, but unable to because his arms were pinned at his sides.

  Just before Gordie passed out from lack of oxygen Atalo set him down and ruffled his hair as he inhaled sharply.

  “Can you believe it, Gordo?” Atalo’s youthfulness rang in his voice. “We’re in Chiron’s cave. Chiron! The centaur!”

  “Yeah, Grandpa. Pretty crazy, huh?”

  “It’s un-freakin’-believable!” he said, throwing his arms out wide. “Come here, Gordo, you gotta try this stuff!” He ushered Gordie to the table.

  On the table was a plate of fruit and Gordie realized with an enormous gastric protestation that he was famished. As he popped a couple dates and figs into his mouth, his mom and grandpa debated the ethics of allowing him to try the delectable brew that Atalo was hawking.

  “He can’t drink that, Dad! He’s sixteen!”

  “You mean after all he’s been through you’re not gonna let him have a sip of booze? Bah!” He waved Ellie off and handed Gordie the large wooden stein. Gordie took a whiff. Flowery sweetness filled his nostrils and he took a deep draught. It tasted like honey, and cinnamon, and flowers, and milk, and summer.

  “Holy crap, that’s good!” Gordie said, raising it to his face again.

  “All right, that’s enough!” Ellie grabbed it out of his hand.

  “Hey, I—”

  “No, you hey!” she said. “This stuff is strong. Light-weights can’t handle it!” With that she polished it off in two great gulps. Wiping her mouth, she slammed the stein on the table and let out an enormous belch. “’Scuse me,” she added. Atalo and Gordie exchanged glances before they collapsed into wild laughter. Even Ellie sniggered.

  As the laughter began to fade, the sound of hooves clomping on stone rang in the cavern. Gordie looked right, and emerging from a tunnel he hadn’t noticed before was a ten-foot-tall man. Thick black hair carpeted his ripped torso and arms, the same color as the sleek black hair cloaking his horse body. Gordie looked up into his wizened face to see his radioactive green eyes surveying him with great interest beneath a curly black mop. His fluffy black beard twitched as his lips transformed into a kind smile.

  “Welcome, Gordon Leonhart, to Mount Pelion, my home.”

  Gordie walked up to him, his head reaching his navel, and reached out his hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Chiron,” Gordie said, as the cen
taur’s enormous mitt enveloped his hand and half his forearm.

  “The pleasure is all mine.” Chiron smiled down on Gordie. “After all, you did free me from the Underworld.”

  Gordie turned back and grinned at his mom. “Told ya.”

  “Yes, and maybe it’s about time you thank him, Gordon. After all he carried your lazy butt back here.”

  “Not lazy, unconscious,” Gordie corrected her. “But uh, thank you very much, Mr. Chiron,” he said, turning back to the centaur, not wanting to sound ungrateful.

  “You are most welcome, my boy,” he replied. “Now, why don’t you take a seat? We have much to discuss.” He gestured an enormous arm towards the great stone table.

  They all took a seat at the high table at which only Atalo didn’t look comically small—Ellie and Gordie were straining to put their chins above the lip. Gordie stared as Chiron, taking the head of the table, tucked his four horse-legs beneath his body to kneel at a comfortable height. Ellie smacked him on the shoulder. Gordie snapped his head forward, ignoring the biological wonder to his right.

  “Gordie, you gotta tell me what happened down there,” Atalo said. “In Hades, I mean.”

  “Yeah, I knew what you meant,” Gordie said, tickled by his unnecessary clarification. Once again, Gordie rolled into the same tale he had recounted to his mom, Atalo nodding along like a kid entranced by a Disney movie, Chiron observing silently, drinking in every word and, Gordie thought self-consciously, trying to get a read on him in many more ways. Atalo was an even better audience member than Ellie, hooting, hollering, and cursing at appropriate times.

  “Wow,” Atalo sighed upon the conclusion of Gordie’s tale. “Way to go, Gordo!” He slapped the table. “That’s m’boy!”

  “Yes, you carried yourself nobly under such trying circumstances. You have much to be proud of,” Chiron said, nodding.

  “Thank you,” Gordie flushed with embarrassment.

  “But you will need to learn to control your anger,” Chiron added, making Gordie’s heart sink.

  “What do you mean?” Gordie asked, trying to keep his cool because they were newly acquainted and Chiron was twice his size.