by Zachary Howe
Chiron had been making Gordie practice mastering his Stygian ice every day with only a few instances of success. Once again, Gordie stared at his arm and strained his physical and mental muscles to force the Stygian ice from its hiding place. Once again, nothing happened.
“I don’t know how!” Gordie threw up his arms.
“You must focus,” Chiron said. Gordie held his arm in front of his face again and tried to bore a hole into it with his stare. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Chiron move—Gordie crouched and lifted his arm to block the furious chop coming at his head. The indestructible black ice erupted from his skin in time to catch the indestructible wood of the bat.
“Good! Keep it up!” Chiron swung the bat around to hit Gordie in his side; he lowered the shield to block the second blow. Then Chiron punched outward with his left hand and Gordie blocked his advancing shield with his own. The metal clanged again. Chiron swung the bat upward from the ground and Gordie dropped his shield to catch it as it rose.
“Good.” Chiron returned to the pile, replaced the shield with the mace, and returned to face Gordie, who looked at him nervously.
“Uh, what’s your plan?” he asked, glancing back and forth between the bat and mace. The black crystal sank back into his skin.
“A shield is effective to block one weapon, but two requires something quicker and less bulky. Your bat would of course suffice, but I have taken that from you. Now I wonder if you can make that stygian ice take a different form. Focus—try to imagine a spear or sword, a more slender weapon.”
Chiron watched Gordie who lifted his hand again to try and release the ice. He closed his eyes, focused on his forearm, flexing the muscles, until he felt something different, like an entirely new set of muscles. He envisioned an ebony spear extruding from his skin, made out of these dynamic fibers. When he opened his eyes he first saw Chiron smiling, and then he looked down to see a dark, crystal blade encompassing his hand, anchored in his forearm. He stared at the weapon in front of him with wide-eyes. It felt like an extension of his own arm, which he realized it technically was.
“Very good, Gordon.” Chiron nodded. “En Garde!” He lunged forward and swung Gordie’s bat at its owner’s ribs, which Gordie blocked with a quick flick of his arm. Then Chiron’s mace came crashing down towards his head, which he caught and repelled with the flat of his blade. Gordie back-pedaled as the centaur chased him, alternating his attacks until he finally cut the mace in half with his ice blade, leaving Chiron with only the handle in hand. Gordie saw surprise on his tutor’s face before it was wiped clean and replaced with characteristic stoicism.
“Very well done, indeed, Gordon,” Chiron said with a smile. “I believe that is enough for one day.” He handed Gordie the bat, which he grasped with his right hand as the Stygian blade sank back into the skin of his left arm.
“Thanks.” Gordie returned the smile and fell in line with Chiron who was already making for the path back to the cave as the sun sank into the horizon.
***
Gordie lay awake in bed, slicing the quiet air with his Stygian blade. He felt the Herculean strength within him and was annoyed that it should be wasted lying on his scratchy cot. He waved his hand back and forth in front of the flickering blue flame in the corner. The black ice of his arm reflected the blue light as it danced. The effect was mesmerizing.
After he and Chiron had returned from the training ground he had showed his new skill to his mom and grandfather. Atalo had ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ while his mother watched impassively. He showed off by cutting up vegetables. Atalo had thrown a tomato in the air and Gordie sliced it in half in midflight.
Of course, it had taken extreme concentration to be able to produce the blade while he wasn’t in danger, but Chiron had told him to visualize their bout, imagine that the blade was necessary to defend himself. Gordie focused on the memory of dueling Chiron with two weapons being swung at his head, and the blade just shot out of his skin.
He had done the same thing while lying in bed to produce the bionic sword. He thought back to the duel again and pushed. It had happened almost instantaneously that time, and he began to feel more at one with the Stygian ice hiding beneath his skin. As he watched it wave in front of his face he felt both buoyed by its protection, and for some reason, a little sad.
Suddenly he felt like he had to leave his bed. He set his bare feet on the stone floor and walked out of his room. He pulled the black ice back into his forearm as he went, wearing a pair of blue athletic shorts and nothing else. The color of his shorts was intensified by the blue light filling the corridor. Padding down the passageway, he was about to stroll into the wide open space of the Great Hall, when he heard voices.
“I mean, what are we even doing here?” Gordie recognized his grandfather’s voice and pressed up against the wall to listen.
“We’re here for Gordie, Dad,” Ellie said.
“Well, yeah, but what’s the point? He doesn’t really need us. Besides he isn’t really doing anything, is he? I mean, when is he gonna start fighting the gods?” Atalo asked. Gordie felt crestfallen by his grandfather’s disappointment.
“Are you kidding?” Gordie smiled at the incredulousness in his mom’s voice as she came to his defense. “Dad, we have been here for less than two weeks. We’re talking about him fighting gods and you think he should just go charging in guns-a-blazin’? You’re being a child. I would expect a man of your age to have a little more patience.”
Damn, Gordie thought to himself. He couldn’t imagine reprimanding a parent, and was impressed by the smack-down his mom just laid on her father.
“I guess you’re right, Ellie. I just feel like we aren’t doing anything. I wanna do something,” Atalo pleaded, and Gordie did feel a little bad. He hadn’t paid them much attention since he had arrived here. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know what they did to pass the time while he was out training. He imagined that it must be pretty boring.
“I understand, Dad, but I’m not sure we’re going to be able to help him at all. I mean, this whole thing about barriers between worlds, and my son is one of the only ones who can cross them.” Gordie listened as she paused. “I just don’t think we’ll be able to help as much as we had hoped.”
“Maybe we should go home, then,” Atalo suggested.
“No,” Ellie said. “I don’t care if we can’t go with him on these little tasks—we are not leaving him here alone. It is out of the question.”
“Okay, well, let’s at least go somewhere soon. I’m getting stir crazy. Maybe we can go to that port city Chiron mentioned.”
“I’m sure that would be fine. We’ll go soon.” Gordie thought his mom was just placating her father, but it seemed to work.
“Great!”
“Keep it down, Dad!”
“All right, sorry,” he hissed.
“Let’s just go to bed.” Gordie heard wooden chairs scrape the stone as the midnight conveners rose from their seats. He sprinted back to his room on tiptoe and dove onto his bed where he lay on his side facing away from the door with his eyes wide open, listening.
Soon the heavy footfalls of his grandfather stomped past his room. Then he heard a light, swishing noise that identified his mother, and he waited for her to pass, but she didn’t. The footsteps stopped right outside his door. Holding his breath, he listened for her to move along. He remained rigid for what felt like an eternity, staring at the wall, wondering what the holdup was. He finally breathed a sigh of relief when her footsteps picked up and sank away into the gloom. Rolling over onto his back, he peered into the empty hall. Only flickering blue light filled the corridor.
Gordie wasn’t sure why he was avoiding her, he just felt uncomfortable after spying. But he was grateful for her support, and wanted to make his gratitude known. Maybe he would suggest they head to civilization the next day. His grandfather was obviously going crazy being holed-up here, but he thought his mom might also benefit from a little distraction.
Once again, he lay awake r
eplaying the many events that had occurred over the last two weeks. Too much sadness still infected his heart for him to remain alone and inactive. He climbed back out of bed and made for the Great Hall, which he was now certain he would find deserted. Fortunately, it was this time, so he walked through it without caution, and made for the corridor that led to the eucalyptus pool.
As he approached the fork that would take him down to the spa, he stopped. He heard a clamor coming from down the hall where Chiron’s room lay, as well as the observatory, and who knew what else. He looked both ways, then headed uphill towards the sound.
He passed Chiron’s room, which was empty, as he had expected, and barren as ever. Next, he passed the stone porch that looked out on the heavens and stopped to enjoy the view for a minute. Then he continued down the path, knowing full well that he had not yet traveled this far down this route.
The path began to slope downward, turning and twisting as usual. He reached another fork and stopped, listening for the noises he had heard earlier. Then the sound of pounding met his ear, and he turned down the path that led to the right. After a few seconds, Gordie froze in alarm when he saw a green light fluttering ahead, concerned that he would once again walk in on Apollo, but as he inched forward, he realized that it was coming from one of the torches—a green flame danced just as the blue ones in the other sconces.
He walked on for a couple minutes and relaxed after seeing a few more green torches, reassured that he was indeed safe from the God of the Sun. The noise was nearly deafening at this point, and he crouched as he approached an open archway. As he reached the portal, he saw normal white light spilling out from it, and was relieved that an ordinary fire lit the space within.
He peered inside and saw Chiron standing at a table that reached his navel. His left hand was holding Gordie’s bat tight against the workbench while his right shoulder moved up and down to the sound of the pounding. Gordie’s immediate reaction was one of alarm, as he thought the centaur was trying to break his bat, but then he remembered its indestructibility. Chiron’s back was to him, so Gordie continued to watch, curious about what he might be up to, particularly this late at night.
“Hello, Gordon.” Gordie fell back on his butt with a shout of surprise. His heart pounded as he clambered to his feet, dusted off his backside, and walked into the firelight, unsure of whether he was more startled or embarrassed.
“Um, hey,” he stammered. “I’m sorry, I was just . . . curious about what you were doing up so late.”
“Not a problem at all.” Chiron turned and smiled. “As it so happens, I am making something for you.” He held out the bat, which Gordie could now see was inserted in a long, leather pouch. The reflected flames danced on the glistening surface of the damp brown leather.
“Uh, thanks.” Gordie took it in his hand and turned it over. “What is it?”
“Well, it is not quite finished, but it will be a scabbard, or a sheath, if you prefer.” Chiron took back the project and turned back to his table. Gordie walked to his side and watched as the centaur slowly rotated the bat, pounding the leather on it. He had to stand back because the tabletop was above his head, making it difficult to see.
Gordie glanced around the room and saw a number of intriguing objects. In the back of the room, a great fireplace roared with a bellows hanging in front of it. An anvil rested to the side, with a number of instruments on a low table next to it. A plethora of arms lined the wall behind the anvil, some that Gordie recognized from their last training session. Another tall table stood on the opposite side of the room from where Chiron worked, and Gordie was surprised to see clumps of clay, small sculpting utensils, and a number of figurines. He didn’t recognize any of the characters. Most of them were old bearded men who sat hunched over tiny desks. He tried not to laugh at Chiron’s mundane artwork.
“Everyone needs a hobby.” Chiron smiled down at him, taking a break from his leather working.
“I suppose.” Gordie thought the notion that a centaur could have a hobby was even more comical than the products. “Who are they?”
“Great thinkers. My idols.” Chiron set down the bat and walked over to the opposite table. He lifted an old man with flowing hair who was hunched over a telescope. “Can you guess who this is?”
Gordie thought hard about his limited knowledge of astronomy. “Ptolemy?”
“Not quite, but you are on the right track. This is Nicolaus Copernicus. He was the first to recognize that our solar system is heliocentric—that the planets orbit the sun. It was previously believed that the earth was the center of the universe. Apollo was displeased when this secret came out—he had even the gods convinced that the sun orbited the earth on his command. In reality, he follows the sun’s path around the clock because he does not like the night.” Gordie found this funny, but didn’t laugh because of the solemnity with which Chiron had said it. Chiron replaced the miniature astronomer.
“Here you see Nostradamus, Aristotle, Einstein.” Chiron pointed at various figures on the table.
“Didn’t some of these guys exist after you . . . ya know . . . died?” Gordie wasn’t sure of this until he had heard Einstein’s name.
“Absolutely. In fact, I met many of them in the Underworld. These are sculptures I have made since my return.” Chiron waved his hand at the bunch.
“You did all that in two weeks?” Gordie thought each one would take him a month.
“I don’t sleep well.” Chiron walked back to the bench with the scabbard and resumed work. Gordie didn’t want to press the issue so he changed the subject.
“So, this scabbard . . . what’s it for?” he asked, confused as to why the pocket was not more slender, as if to house a sword.
“For your club, of course. Or your ‘bat,’ as you call it,” Chiron said, shaking the wood. “It has a strap so you can carry it over your shoulder.” He held it up by a long, thin, leather strap that attached just under the opening and down at the bottom.
“Oh!” Gordie finally understood the mechanism. “Thanks.”
“You are very welcome.” Chiron paused to smile down at him before returning to his work. Gordie watched.
“That should suffice,” he said, after a few more swings of his mallet. He placed the hammer down and pulled the bat out of the leather before hanging the sheath on a hook. “Now to let it dry. Can I walk you back to your room?”
“Uh, sure.”
As they left the work room Gordie took one last look at the clay figurines.
The slow click-clack of hooves on stone made Gordie sleepy. He walked along in Chiron’s wake as the firelight changed from green to blue.
“What keeps you up this night?” Chiron’s voice drifted back over his massive shoulders.
“I don’t know. Just not tired I guess.”
“I understand,” Chiron said, and the way he said it made Gordie believe that he really did understand. “You have experienced much in a very brief span of time. You are handling it well.” Gordie was glad that Chiron couldn’t see his face at the moment.
“So, what are we doing tomorrow?” Gordie asked, after a few more silent minutes.
“More of the same,” Chiron said.
“Okay.”
“Was there something you had in mind?” Chiron asked.
“Well, I think my mom and grandpa are going a little crazy being holed-up here. I thought maybe, I don’t know, that we could go to the city?” Gordie wasn’t hopeful that this request would be granted, but was pleasantly surprised.
“I suppose that would be acceptable,” Chiron sighed.
“Really? Awesome! Have you ever been to this city?” Gordie asked, and recoiled when Chiron laughed. “What?”
“Gordon, I am a centaur—I do not simply walk into the urban spaces of your people. Besides, you forget, I have been in the underworld for millennia—Volos did not exist when I died as it does today.”
“Oh yeah.” Gordie felt like an idiot as they walked out into the moonlit Great Hall. Chiron st
opped and turned to face him.
“Gordon, I will allow you to go with your family to the city tomorrow—I will carry them to the outskirts myself—but I am trusting you to remain with them at all times. Do you understand me?” He placed his massive hands on Gordie’s shoulders and even bent down to look him in the eye more closely.
“I understand.”
“And you are to hide your power, as well. It would not do to let the public see your abilities.” Chiron held his deep gaze.
“Of course.” Gordie figured this was common sense.
“Good. Now, why don’t you go back to bed—you have a long run ahead of you in the morning.” Chiron smiled and nudged Gordie in the direction of his room.
“All right. Goodnight.” Gordie waved as he walked towards his corridor.
“Goodnight, Gordon.”
12
Text Messages in Portaria
The next morning at breakfast Gordie broke the news that they were heading into the city, which was met by his grandpa’s shouts of “Hooray!” and a hug that may have cracked his ribs if not for the current wealth of strength within him.
“All right, all right, Grandpa!” Gordie croaked as he was lifted into the air. “You’re welcome!”
Atalo set his grandson down, who had nearly started foaming at the mouth from the pressure. Gordie sat down and exhaled like a teapot before grabbing an apple off the high table.
“Think about it, Gordo! We can get meat!” Atalo had a hungry look in his eye. “Fresh gyros!”
“Yeah, sounds great.” Gordie smiled.
“So, we are going to ride on Chiron’s back and you are going to run alongside us?” Ellie asked. “For fifteen miles?”
“Yeah, I’m not too excited about it either,” Gordie admitted. “But I have to get some training in today.” He shrugged.
“Sucks to be you,” Ellie snorted.
“Thanks for the support, Mom.”
“Count your blessings, Gordo. In my day we had to walk fifteen miles to school—”
“Oh, come off it, Dad! You lived two blocks from school!”
