by Rick Riordan
Once they were gone, the blinding rainbow shut off like a spotlight.
Hazel, Frank and Percy were left alone in the dark, staring across the road at a closed-up convenience store.
‘That was different,’ Frank muttered.
Percy shuddered violently. Hazel knew he needed help, or rest, or something. Seeing that army seemed to have triggered some kind of memory, leaving him shell-shocked. They should get him back to the boat.
On the other hand, a huge stretch of grassland lay between them and the beach. Hazel got the feeling the karpoi wouldn’t stay away forever. She didn’t like the idea of the three of them making their way back to the boat in the middle of the night. And she couldn’t shake the dreadful feeling that if she hadn’t summoned that schist she’d be a captive of the giant right now.
‘Let’s go to the store,’ she said. ‘If there’s a goddess inside, maybe she can help us.’
‘Except a bunch of snake things are guarding the hill now,’ Frank said. ‘And that burning rainbow might come back.’
They both looked at Percy, who was shaking like he had hypothermia.
‘We’ve got to try,’ Hazel said.
Frank nodded grimly. ‘Well … any goddess who throws a muffin at a giant can’t be all bad. Let’s go.’
XXI
Frank
Frank hated chocolate muffins. He hated snakes. And he hated his life. Not necessarily in that order.
As he trudged up the hill, he wished that he could pass out like Hazel – just go into a trance and experience some other time, like before he got drafted for this insane quest, before he found out his dad was a godly drill sergeant with an ego problem.
His bow and spear slapped against his back. He hated the spear, too. The moment he got it, he silently swore he’d never use it. A real man’s weapon – Mars was a moron.
Maybe there had been a mix-up. Wasn’t there some sort of DNA test for gods’ kids? Perhaps the godly nursery had accidentally switched Frank with one of Mars’s buff little bully babies. No way would Frank’s mother have got involved with that blustering war god.
She was a natural warrior, Grandmother’s voice argued. It is no surprise a god would fall in love with her, given our family. Ancient blood. The blood of princes and heroes.
Frank shook the thought out of his head. He was no prince or hero. He was a lactose-intolerant klutz, who couldn’t even protect his friend from getting kidnapped by wheat.
His new medals felt cold against his chest: the centurion’s crescent, the Mural Crown. He should’ve been proud of them, but he felt like he’d only got them because his dad had bullied Reyna.
Frank didn’t know how his friends could stand to be around him. Percy had made it clear that he hated Mars, and Frank couldn’t blame him. Hazel kept watching Frank out of the corner of her eye, like she was afraid he might turn into a muscle-bound freak.
Frank looked down at his body and sighed. Correction: even more of a muscle-bound freak. If Alaska really was a land beyond the gods, Frank might stay there. He wasn’t sure he had anything to return to.
Don’t whine, his grandmother would say. Zhang men do not whine.
She was right. Frank had a job to do. He had to complete this impossible quest, which at the moment meant reaching the convenience store alive.
As they got closer, Frank worried that the store might burst into rainbow light and vaporize them, but the building stayed dark. The snakes Polybotes had dropped seemed to have vanished.
They were twenty yards from the porch when something hissed in the grass behind them.
‘Go!’ Frank yelled.
Percy stumbled. While Hazel helped him up, Frank turned and nocked an arrow.
He shot blindly. He thought he’d grabbed an exploding arrow, but it was only a signal flare. It skidded through the grass, bursting into orange flame and whistling: WOO!
At least it illuminated the monster. Sitting in a patch of withered yellow grass was a lime-coloured snake as short and thick as Frank’s arm. Its head was ringed with a mane of spiky white fins. The creature stared at the arrow zipping by as if wondering, What the heck is that?
Then it fixed its large, yellow eyes on Frank. It advanced like an inchworm, hunching up in the middle. Wherever it touched, the grass withered and died.
Frank heard his friends climbing the steps of the store. He didn’t dare turn and run. He and the snake studied each other. The snake hissed, flames billowing from its mouth.
‘Nice creepy reptile,’ Frank said, very aware of the driftwood in his coat pocket. ‘Nice poisonous, fire-breathing reptile.’
‘Frank!’ Hazel yelled behind him. ‘Come on!’
The snake sprang at him. It sailed through the air so fast, there wasn’t time to nock an arrow. Frank swung his bow and smacked the monster down the hill. It spun out of sight, wailing, ‘Screeeee!’
Frank felt proud of himself until he looked at his bow, which was steaming where it had touched the snake. He watched in disbelief as the wood crumbled to dust.
He heard an outraged hiss, answered by two more hisses further downhill.
Frank dropped his disintegrating bow and ran for the porch. Percy and Hazel pulled him up the steps. When Frank turned, he saw all three monsters circling in the grass, breathing fire and turning the hillside brown with their poisonous touch. They didn’t seem able or willing to come closer to the store, but that wasn’t much comfort to Frank. He’d lost his bow.
‘We’ll never get out of here,’ he said miserably.
‘Then we’d better go in.’ Hazel pointed to the hand-painted sign over the door: RAINBOW ORGANIC FOODS & LIFESTYLES.
Frank had no idea what that meant, but it sounded better than flaming poisonous snakes. He followed his friends inside.
As they stepped through the door, lights came on. Flute music started up like they’d walked onto a stage. The wide aisles were lined with bins of nuts and dried fruit, baskets of apples, and clothing racks with tie-dyed shirts and gauzy Tinker Bell-type dresses. The ceiling was covered in wind chimes. Along the walls, glass cases displayed crystal balls, geodes, macramé dream catchers and a bunch of other strange stuff. Incense must have been burning somewhere. It smelled like a bouquet of flowers was on fire.
‘Fortune-teller’s shop?’ Frank wondered.
‘Hope not,’ Hazel muttered.
Percy leaned against her. He looked worse than ever, like he’d been hit with a sudden flu. His face glistened with sweat. ‘Sit down …’ he muttered. ‘Maybe water.’
‘Yeah,’ Frank said. ‘Let’s find you a place to rest.’
The floorboards creaked under their feet. Frank navigated between two Neptune statue fountains.
A girl popped up from behind the granola bins. ‘Help you?’
Frank lurched backwards, knocking over one of the fountains. A stone Neptune crashed to the floor. The sea god’s head rolled off and water spewed out of his neck, spraying a rack of tie-dyed man satchels.
‘Sorry!’ Frank bent down to clean up the mess. He almost goosed the girl with his spear.
‘Eep!’ she said. ‘Hold it! It’s okay!’
Frank straightened slowly, trying not to cause any more damage. Hazel looked mortified. Percy turned a sickly shade of green as he stared at the decapitated statue of his dad.
The girl clapped her hands. The fountain dissolved into mist. The water evaporated. She turned to Frank. ‘Really, it’s no problem. Those Neptune fountains are so grumpy-looking they bum me out.’
She reminded Frank of the college-age hikers he sometimes saw in Lynn Canyon Park behind his grandmother’s house. She was short and muscular, with lace-up boots, cargo shorts and a bright yellow T-shirt that read R.O.F.L. Rainbow Organic Foods & Lifestyles. She looked young, but her hair was frizzy white, sticking out on either side of her head like the white of a giant fried egg.
Frank tried to remember how
to speak. The girl’s eyes were really distracting. The irises changed colour from grey to black to white.
‘Uh … sorry about the fountain,’ he managed. ‘We were just –’
‘Oh, I know!’ the girl said. ‘You want to browse. It’s all right. Demigods are welcome. Take your time. You’re not like those awful monsters. They just want to use the restroom and never buy anything!’
She snorted. Her eyes flashed with lightning. Frank glanced at Hazel to see if he’d imagined it, but Hazel looked just as surprised.
From the back of the store, a woman’s voice called: ‘Fleecy? Don’t scare the customers, now. Bring them here, will you?’
‘Your name is Fleecy?’ Hazel asked.
Fleecy giggled. ‘Well, in the language of the nebulae it’s actually –’ She made a series of crackling and blowing noises that reminded Frank of a thunderstorm giving way to a nice cold front. ‘But you can call me Fleecy.’
‘Nebulae …’ Percy muttered in a daze. ‘Cloud nymphs.’
Fleecy beamed. ‘Oh, I like this one! Usually no one knows about cloud nymphs. But, dear me, he doesn’t look so good. Come to the back. My boss wants to meet you. We’ll get your friend fixed up.’
Fleecy led them through the produce aisle, between rows of aubergines, kiwis, lotus fruit and pomegranates. At the back of the store, behind a counter with an old-fashioned cash register, stood a middle-aged woman with olive skin, long black hair, rimless glasses and a T-shirt that read: The Goddess Is Alive! She wore amber necklaces and turquoise rings. She smelled like rose petals.
She looked friendly enough, but something about her made Frank feel shaky, like he wanted to cry. It took him a second, then he realized what it was – the way she smiled with just one corner of her mouth, the warm brown colour of her eyes, the tilt of her head, like she was considering a question. She reminded Frank of his mother.
‘Hello!’ She leaned over the counter, which was lined with dozens of little statues – waving Chinese cats, meditating Buddhas, Saint Francis bobble heads and novelty dippy drinking birds with top hats. ‘So glad you’re here. I’m Iris!’
Hazel’s eyes widened. ‘Not the Iris – the rainbow goddess?’
Iris made a face. ‘Well, that’s my official job, yes. But I don’t define myself by my corporate identity. In my spare time, I run this!’ She gestured around her proudly. ‘The R.O.F.L. Co-op – an employee-run cooperative promoting healthy alternative lifestyles and organic foods.’
Frank stared at her. ‘But you throw chocolate muffins at monsters.’
Iris looked horrified. ‘Oh, they’re not just chocolate muffins.’ She rummaged under the counter and brought out a package of chocolate-covered cakes that looked exactly like muffins. ‘These are gluten-free, no-sugar-added, vitamin-enriched, soy-free, goat-milk-and-seaweed-based cupcake simulations.’
‘All natural!’ Fleecy chimed in.
‘I stand corrected.’ Frank suddenly felt as queasy as Percy.
Iris smiled. ‘You should try one, Frank. You’re lactose intolerant, aren’t you?’
‘How did you –’
‘I know these things. Being the messenger goddess … well, I do learn a lot, hearing all the communications from the gods and so on.’ She tossed the cakes on the counter. ‘Besides, those monsters should be glad to have some healthy snacks. Always eating junk food and heroes. They’re so unenlightened. I couldn’t have them tromping through my store, tearing up things and disturbing our feng shui.’
Percy leaned against the counter. He looked like he was going to throw up all over the goddess’s feng shui. ‘Monsters marching south,’ he said with difficulty. ‘Going to destroy our camp. Couldn’t you stop them?’
‘Oh, I’m strictly non-violent,’ Iris said. ‘I can act in self-defence, but I won’t be drawn into any more Olympian aggression, thank you very much. I’ve been reading about Buddhism. And Taoism. I haven’t decided between them.’
‘But …’ Hazel looked mystified. ‘Aren’t you a Greek goddess?’
Iris crossed her arms. ‘Don’t try to put me in a box, demigod! I’m not defined by my past.’
‘Um, okay,’ Hazel said. ‘Could you at least help our friend here? I think he’s sick.’
Percy reached across the counter. For a second Frank was afraid he wanted the cupcakes. ‘Iris-message,’ he said. ‘Can you send one?’
Frank wasn’t sure he’d heard right. ‘Iris-message?’
‘It’s …’ Percy faltered. ‘Isn’t that something you do?’
Iris studied Percy more closely. ‘Interesting. You’re from Camp Jupiter, and yet … Oh, I see. Juno is up to her tricks.’
‘What?’ Hazel asked.
Iris glanced at her assistant, Fleecy. They seemed to have a silent conversation. Then the goddess pulled a vial from behind the counter and sprayed some honeysuckle-smelling oil around Percy’s face. ‘There, that should balance your chakra. As for Iris-messages – that’s an ancient way of communication. The Greeks used it. The Romans never took to it – always relying on their road systems and giant eagles and whatnot. But yes, I imagine … Fleecy, could you give it a try?’
‘Sure, boss!’
Iris winked at Frank. ‘Don’t tell the other gods, but Fleecy handles most of my messages these days. She’s wonderful at it, really, and I don’t have time to answer all those requests personally. It messes up my wa.’
‘Your wa?’ Frank asked.
‘Mmm. Fleecy, why don’t you take Percy and Hazel into the back? You can get them something to eat while you arrange their messages. And for Percy … yes, memory sickness. I imagine that old Polybotes … well, meeting him in a state of amnesia can’t be good for a child of P – that is to say, Neptune. Fleecy, give him a cup of green tea with organic honey and wheat germ and some of my medicinal powder number five. That should fix him up.’
Hazel frowned. ‘What about Frank?’
Iris turned to him. She tilted her head quizzically, just the way his mother used to – as if Frank were the biggest question in the room.
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Iris said. ‘Frank and I have a lot to talk about.’
XXII
Frank
Frank would’ve preferred to go with his friends, even if it meant he had to endure green tea with wheat germ. But Iris roped her arm through his and led him to a café table at a bay window. Frank set his spear on the floor. He sat across from Iris. Outside in the dark, the snake monsters restlessly patrolled the hillside, spewing fire and poisoning the grass.
‘Frank, I know how you feel,’ Iris said. ‘I imagine that half-burnt stick in your pocket gets heavier every day.’
Frank couldn’t breathe. His hand went instinctively to his coat. ‘How do you –?’
‘I told you. I know things. I was Juno’s messenger for ages. I know why she gave you a reprieve.’
‘A reprieve?’ Frank brought out the piece of firewood and unwrapped it from its cloth. As unwieldy as Mars’s spear was, the piece of tinder was worse. Iris was right. It weighed him down.
‘Juno saved you for a reason,’ the goddess said. ‘She wants you to serve her plan. If she hadn’t appeared that day when you were a baby and warned your mother about the firewood, you would’ve died. You were born with too many gifts. That sort of power tends to burn out a mortal life.’
‘Too many gifts?’ Frank felt his ears getting warm with anger. ‘I don’t have any gifts!’
‘That’s not true, Frank.’ Iris swiped her hand in front of her like she was cleaning a windshield. A miniature rainbow appeared. ‘Think about it.’
An image shimmered in the rainbow. Frank saw himself when he was four years old, running across Grandmother’s backyard. His mother leaned out the window of the attic, high above, waving and calling to get his attention. Frank wasn’t supposed to be in the backyard by himself. He didn’t know why his mother was up in the attic, but she told him to
stay by the house, not to go too far. Frank did exactly the opposite. He squealed with delight and ran to the edge of the woods, where he came face to face with a grizzly bear.
Until Frank saw that scene in the rainbow, the memory had been so hazy he thought he’d dreamed it. Now he could appreciate just how surreal the experience had been. The bear regarded the little boy, and it was difficult to tell who was more startled. Then Frank’s mother appeared at his side. There was no way she should have been able to get down from the attic so fast. She put herself between the bear and Frank and told him to run to the house. This time, Frank obeyed. When he turned at the back porch, he saw his mother coming out of the woods. The bear was gone. Frank asked what had happened. His mother smiled. Mama Bear just needed directions, she said.
The scene in the rainbow changed. Frank saw himself as a six-year-old, curling up in his mother’s lap even though he was much too big for that. His mother’s long black hair was pulled back. Her arms were around him. She wore her rimless glasses that Frank always liked to steal, and her fuzzy grey fleece pullover that smelled like cinnamon. She was telling him stories about heroes, pretending they were all related to Frank: one was Xu Fu, who sailed in search of the elixir of life. The rainbow image had no sound, but Frank remembered his mother’s words: He was your great-great-great- … She would poke Frank’s stomach every time she said great-, dozens of times, until he was giggling uncontrollably.
Then there was Sung Guo, also called Seneca Gracchus, who fought twelve Roman dragons and sixteen Chinese dragons in the western deserts of China. He was the strongest dragon of all, you see, his mother said. That’s how he could beat them! Frank didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded exciting.
When she poked his belly with so many greats, Frank rolled onto the floor to escape the tickling. And your very oldest ancestor that we know of: he was the Prince of Pylos! Hercules fought him once. It was a hard fight!
Did we win? Frank asked.
His mother laughed, but there was sadness in her voice. No, our ancestor lost. But it wasn’t easy for Hercules. Imagine trying to fight a swarm of bees. That’s how it was. Even Hercules had trouble!
