Helen and Troy's Epic Road Quest

by A. Lee Martinez

  He reached for her hands.

  She pulled them away and hid them under the table.

  “You’re great,” she said softly. “You have no idea how wonderful it is that you even asked. But you and me, we don’t work together.”

  “Hel…”

  She looked away. “Drop it, Troy.”

  He didn’t want to, but he didn’t see the point in arguing with her right now. There would be time to discuss it later. He hadn’t given up, but he didn’t press the issue.

  She knew every thought running through his head. Troy wasn’t easily discouraged. But he’d realize she was right sooner or later.

  Helen excused herself to use the restroom. She locked herself in the small room that stank of cheap pine and that indefinable musty public bathroom smell. People knocked on the door. She ignored them until they went away.

  She stared at the minotaur in the mirror, and as much as she wanted to hate her curse, this wasn’t about horns or hooves. It went deeper, all the way to the place where a little girl wanted to believe a handsome prince could rescue her.

  That girl wasn’t there anymore.

  “You suck.”

  Troy waited patiently for Helen to get back. After five minutes he resisted the urge to check on her. After eight he got out of the booth, walked halfway to the bathrooms, then changed his mind and turned back. After ten he found himself worrying, but he was determined to give her the space she needed.

  He paid the bill and went outside to grab some air. He stood awkwardly in the parking lot. It was a new experience, this uncertainty. Helen was the first thing he had been unsure of in a long, long time. So long, he couldn’t remember the last. Although he was positive there had to be at least one forgotten moment in his past.

  He was wrong. This was the first.

  A lunch wagon pulled into the parking lot. Lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t pay it much mind. Not until the short, hairy man stepped out of it. Pollux Castor, the lunch wagon oracle, had found them again. Troy ran over.

  “Am I glad to see you,” he said.

  Pollux glanced at Troy. “Something I can do for you, kid?”

  “You can tell me what to do next. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

  Pollux patted his belly. “I’m here for dinner. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

  He pushed past Troy and walked toward the restaurant. Troy walked by his side.

  “Don’t you remember me?”

  “Should I?”

  “You helped me on my quest,” said Troy.

  “I’ve helped a lot of people on their quests. You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “I was the guy with the…tall girl.”

  “Not ringing any bells.”

  Troy struggled to not say it. Pollux reached for the handle of the diner’s door.

  “The minotaur girl,” said Troy softly.

  Pollux stopped. “Oh, yes. I remember you two.”

  Troy hated himself for saying it, and he hated the world for making it such a big deal in the first place. It only proved Helen’s point. She would always be the girl with fur.

  Pollux said, “You’re still alive. I wasn’t certain you’d pass the first challenge, but you seem to be doing all right. You don’t need my help. And if I’m not in Colorado by tomorrow night to show an unassuming middle manager how to get his hands on some golden fleece, you can kiss the Atlantic Ocean good-bye. The oracle business keeps me on a tight schedule. I just want to grab some steak and eggs and be on my way. Just follow the road you’re on. It’ll always lead you where you’re going. Trust in yourself. Beware of Greeks bearing gifts. Other sagely advice. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.”

  “Can you at least tell me if I’m going to unleash a disaster?”

  “I could, but why ruin the surprise?”

  Troy was too tired to have this conversation. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  Pollux went inside, leaving Troy with his thoughts. The short oracle came back a moment later.

  “All right, all right. You seem like a good kid. I can spare a few minutes, but let’s make this quick. What’s bugging you?”

  “It’s Helen.”

  “Who?”

  “The…tall woman I was with.”

  “Right, right. The tall one.” Pollux rubbed his round chin. “Got a thing for her, do you?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “Just part of the oracle biz. Just like I know your next question. How do you win her over? Short answer: you don’t. The way to another’s heart, that isn’t something I can help you with. It was different in days of yore. You met a woman, you slew a monster or fetched an enchanted rose from a frozen mountaintop, you get married. And sometimes it worked out. Sometimes the wife cooked her children in a stew and served them to her husband. Overall it was a simple system.

  “Today it’s a bit more complicated. I can tell you where to find a tree that grows golden apples that will make you immortal. I can tell you where to find a bottle holding the first ray of light ever to touch this world. I can tell you how to reach the kingdom of the gods above with a sailboat and a good sextant. But how to convince someone to trust you with their heart, that’s not my department.”

  Pollux slapped Troy on the back.

  “I wish I could tell you the right thing to say and the right way to say it. If I could slip you a love potion, I would. The only thing you can do is give her the time to figure it out on her own and be there when she’s ready. And if she’s never ready, be ready to move on. Unrequited love is bullshit. And it always ends up hurting everyone involved.”

  “You can’t tell me if she changes her mind?”

  “Everybody thinks they want to know the future,” said Pollux. “But nobody does. Not really.”

  Troy said, “What are you hiding?”

  “Oh, nothing important. Have a good life, kid.”

  He turned, but Troy grabbed Pollux by the arm.

  “Ow. Just a word of advice. Manhandling an oracle is a good way to meet an ironic end.”

  “What is it?”

  The look in Troy’s eye told Pollux everything he needed to know. He’d seen it in the eyes of a hundred heroes more brave than wise. There was no reasoning with that type.

  “By the end of this quest, one of you will have to die.”

  “What? How?”

  “Don’t know. Just know it has to happen. If you make it to the end of this journey, which I can’t guarantee. But if you do, when the time comes, one or both of you is going to have to die because the gods love melodrama. And a story where two mixed-up kids conquer the world and become better for it, it might put a smile on your face, but it isn’t going to be the stuff of legends.

  “Sorry to break it to you like that, son. It’s a hard pill to swallow, but you aren’t the first hero screwed by the gods. You won’t be the last. My advice is to try not to think about it and enjoy the journey.”

  He waited for Troy to release him. It took a few seconds.

  “Best of luck to you,” mumbled Pollux as he went into the diner.

  Troy unfolded their map of destiny and stared at the big black question mark at the end.

  Helen came out of the diner, and he quickly shoved the map back in his pocket.

  “Was that the oracle?” she asked.

  Troy nodded.

  “Well…?” She paused, waiting for Troy to fill in the blank, but he didn’t reply.

  “Troy…”

  “Nothing’s wrong, Hel. He said we should keep on the road we’re on.”

  He smiled. It was boyish and charming. It would’ve fooled anyone else, but Helen knew him better than that.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “What did he tell you?”

  “Nothing. He told me nothing. We should get going. Should check on Achilles before he pees on my seats.”

  He walked away.

  She glanced through the diner’s dirty windows at Pollux, sitting
at a booth. He noticed her looking at him and hid his face behind a menu.

  Oracles hadn’t been much help on this quest so far. She didn’t give a damn about the future or the cryptic clues Pollux was sure to give her. She chalked up Troy’s strange behavior to her rejection of him, and it wasn’t surprising. The poor guy had probably never been turned down before. He’d get over it.

  She hoped this stupid quest would be over with soon. The dragons and the monsters she could live with. She was even sort of enjoying them. But another week in the Chimera with Troy, and she might be tempted to say yes to his idiotic proposal. That scared the hell out of her, more than any cyclops or immortal witch ever could.

  27

  They hadn’t gotten any sleep at the Mystery Cottage, and with the adrenaline wearing off and a lot on their minds, the road seemed long and dark and lonely. They found a motel. It wasn’t a weird motel staffed by monsters. There were no legendary beasts in its parking lot. The most unusual thing about it was a fat guy enjoying a few midnight laps in the swimming pool, and that was more unsettling than otherwordly.

  They got separate rooms. The clerk apologized because he couldn’t put them beside each other, but Helen decided it was better that way. The more distance the better, and while it was only a matter of a few dozen extra feet, it all added up.

  “See you in the morning, Hel,” said Troy.

  “Uh-huh.”

  She wished he’d never brought that date up. She’d been thinking it too, but she’d had the sense to leave it unspoken. That way they could’ve pretended they were just friends. Now the notion that they could be something more stood between them like a malicious spirit, grabbing their words and twisting them with all manner of horrible subtext and awkward implications.

  She closed the door and locked it. Achilles had followed her in. He hopped on the bed, but she shooed him off.

  “Don’t get too comfortable. We’ve got to make sure this place is on the up-and-up.”

  She stripped off the blankets and sheets to be sure the bed wasn’t some sort of vicious monster in disguise. She went through the drawers, found some stationery, a pen, a worn copy of the druidic tomes, revised edition. No goblins hid under the bed. The bathtub, as far as she could tell, was not some evil artifact waiting to devour her soul. And the television, while it did have a grainy image, wasn’t especially menacing. After checking behind the paintings on the walls, she decided she was being paranoid. After double-checking that the closet wasn’t a portal to some nameless dimension of horror, she sat on the unmade bed and dared to relax.

  Achilles put his head on her lap.

  “All clear, I guess.” She picked him up and looked into his brown eyes. “Troy thinks you’re magic. I’m beginning to think he’s right. I know it’s probably against the rules to admit it to us, but if you are magic, can you at least give me a sign?”

  He licked her nose.

  She smiled and set him beside her. “Close enough.”

  She unfolded her oracle map and crossed out the house on chicken legs. That left only the giant question mark at the end of their journey. One way or another, things were ending soon.

  She was tired but couldn’t sleep, so she decided a quick shower was in order. It was always better to shower at night so she wouldn’t have to waste the forty-five minutes with a blow-dryer in the morning.

  She stripped down, and while part of her wanted to avoid looking in the mirror, she forced herself to as she gave herself a quick brush-down from head to toe. Halfway through she noticed the fur on the carpet, but there seemed little point in stopping. She took her shower, standing under the hot water for longer than she really should’ve, but when she turned off the water she almost felt human again.

  She was plugging in her extra-strength hair dryer when someone knocked on the door. She grabbed the cheap motel robe off the wall and wrapped it around herself. It was too tight in the shoulders and too short, showing most of her thighs.

  “Go away. It’s late,” Helen shouted, before reaching the door. She had no interest in conversation right now. Not with oracles. Not with Troy. She only wanted to dry off and go to bed. She changed her mind after glancing through the peephole.

  Agent Waechter’s smiling face appeared to her.

  She threw open the door and punched him in the stomach. He doubled over and fell to his knees.

  “You son of a bitch—”

  The two black-suited agents beside him drew their swords, and Helen balled her hands into fists.

  “It’s OK,” gasped Waechter. “It’s OK. Miss Nicolaides isn’t dangerous. She certainly could’ve killed me with that blow if she’d wished.”

  Helen grinned. “Damn right.”

  The agents lowered their weapons.

  “You set us up,” said Helen. “You sent us into that witch’s house blind.”

  “I did. But you must understand there are—”

  “Rules,” she said. “Everybody keeps telling us there are rules, but nobody seems to have the rule book handy.”

  She helped him up, though part of her wanted to pound him into a bloody mess. The agents couldn’t have stopped her from doing so. She felt the power in her muscles. It was more than enough to flatten all three. The idea frightened and thrilled her. She had been more violent lately. She didn’t know if it was the absence of her bracelet or the frustration of tonight or a little bit of both, but she found herself eager to hurt things.

  Waechter was as good a target as any.

  “You have every right to be upset,” he said.

  “I’m so glad to have your permission.”

  He stood, though still bent at a slight angle. “Miss Nicolaides…Helen…”

  She glared down at him. He wasn’t a small man, but he was still eminently crushable.

  “Miss Nicolaides, I’m no happier about the path we’ve been forced on than anyone else. I’m only doing my job.”

  “Your job is to get me fed to a witch?”

  “My job is to see if you’re the right person for the job. These tests might not seem like it, but they’re important. There are milestones on the road you walk, and it’s essential that you pass them.”

  “Peachy. So it’s your job to throw us into the dragon’s lair and hope we don’t get killed.”

  “More or less. Believe it or not, we are on your side.”

  “How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”

  “I never lied to you. I never told you to trust the old woman.”

  Helen was tempted to punch him so hard that his head popped off like a cork. She imagined it sailing away, spinning end over end. She smiled.

  “I don’t trust you, Waechter, but I don’t see how I have a choice. So tell me where to go and what to do, and I’ll do it. As we’ve nearly reached the end of my patience and the only thing preventing me from beating the crap out of you is that I just want to get some sleep, I suggest you spit it out without any cryptic comments or long-winded philosophizing.”

  “Perfectly reasonable,” he agreed as he handed her two tickets to an amusement park called Lands of Adventure.

  “Let me guess. This place is cursed by an old wizard. The haunted house is actually haunted. If we eat the cotton candy, we turn into donkeys. But of course you couldn’t tell me because that’s against the rules.”

  She started to close the door.

  “Don’t you want directions?” he asked.

  “Don’t need them,” she replied. “If I’m meant to find the place, I’m sure I’ll find the place just fine on my own.”

  She shut the door with a displeased smile.

  * * *

  Troy was dreaming. It wasn’t his own dream, though.

  Helen stood beside his bed. She began to unbutton her shirt, and as she did so her fur disappeared. Her horns melted away. She transformed into a beautiful dark-haired woman, and she bent down and caressed his cheek.

  “You’ve freed me from my curse with your love, Troy. I’m yours to have, forever.”
>
  Troy laughed. A puzzled expression on her face, Helen pulled away.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Seriously? This is the best you’ve got?” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “This is the fantasy you think I want?”

  Helen, or her dream equivalent, said, “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s a bit simplistic, isn’t it? I kiss the monster, and she becomes a beautiful girl. Then we ride into the sunset in my custom rocket car and get to eat all the ice cream we want. Do you think I’m five?”

  “But this is your heart’s desire. It’s everything you want.”

  “It’s not everything I want. It’s everything I desire. There’s a difference.”

  “Not for most people.”

  “I’m not most people.”

  “I don’t get it. It’s been a while since I’ve done this, but tempting mortals in their dreams has never been hard.”

  “I taught myself how to lucid dream.” Troy went to the window and parted the curtains. His rocket car was parked just outside. “I was joking about that.”

  Helen waved her hand, and the vehicle vanished. “Very well. What do you want?”

  “I want you to stop pretending to be her. The human form is fine,” said Troy. “It’s not her.”

  “But what if I told you it could be?” she asked.

  “I’d say there’s nothing wrong with how she is now and tell you to screw yourself.”

  The temptress flopped on the bed. “You’re not doing this right. I’m here to offer you your wildest dreams. All you need do is ask.” She expanded into Helen’s minotaur form, naked on the bed. “Is this more to your liking?”

  He closed his eyes. It felt wrong to look, like violating a sacred trust with Helen even if only in a dream.

  “Stop it.”

  “As you wish.”

  The temptress transformed with a loud slurp. Troy opened his eyes to see the Lost God, in the form of a talking mound of raw hamburger, on his bed.

  “Not my true form, but one you should have no problem recognizing.”

  “What do you want?”