"Except about a thousand times slower," Swindle commented without shame. Ace and Hector chuckled.
The goddess Iris looked like it was nothing she hadn't heard before. "I'm efficient," She retorted, "Your father is scatterbrained and sloppy, and even you know that's true." Chloe waited for Swindle to deny it, but he never did.
The purple streak disappeared from Iris's rainbow and she checked one of five watches she was wearing. With a nod, she raised her arms skyward. "Up," She ordered Theseus, "My ride's about to leave me." Theseus lifted the tiny goddess up and sat her on the edge of the rainbow. The blue streak disappeared. "Well, it's been nice godlings, but I must take my leave and make the rest of my deliveries. Nice to meet you, Pythia." The green vanished. Iris stood then, waved a farewell, then leapt head first over the top of the rainbow, disappearing to the other side. One by one, yellow, orange, and red dematerialized, and the rainbow and Iris were gone.
"The Counselor wants to see us," Strafford said, distracting her from her gawking. He had unrolled and read the scroll Iris had delivered.
"You're going to Godlet's?!" Hector's eyes widened. "This blows!" Chloe could at least infer that Godlet's was a safe place, maybe even a fun place, from his reaction.
Strafford's eyes narrowed and he tossed Hector a key. "Narcissus Station. Now. And buy new clothes first chance you get. You're drenched in black blood."
The twin scowled, catching it. "Come on, bro," He said to Theseus, "His Highness has spoken."
"See you soon, Chloe," Theseus said, rearranging his bow and arrows. He and Ace high-fived each other.
"Yeah, see you," Hector echoed. His scowl deepened, but then he said, "Your family will be safe with us guarding them. I swear."
"I know, Hector," Chloe said with a smile. They had done it before and she had no doubt they would do it again. She trusted them.
"We'll send an Iris post soon," Theseus said, as they walked back through the terrace doors.
"Kill something in our honor!" Hector made a last request. They unlocked and opened the golden doors on the other side of the room, stepped through them into some crowded depot overrun with people, and they were gone.
"Two doors, millions of possibilities," Ace said to her, "Those doors lead lots of places if you have the right keys."
She smiled a little. She guessed her wonder over things of their world was always apparent on her face.
"Swindle, we're stayin' at your hideout for the night," said Strafford, moving forward. "The tower can't be safe if the Chateau isn't." He crossed his arms. "Come to think of it, where is your newest hideout? You're so bloody nomadic, I never know where you're livin' from one day to the next."
"You can't learn everything there is to know sitting in one spot," Swindle replied. "I found a little place on Hesperides Street. Number 182. I'll go ahead and get things ready."
Strafford nodded. "Brilliant." He looked at her. "Change now, Red. You can't go out in your bloody night gear. By the way, nice jacket." He winked and clearly got a kick out of her blushing reaction. "Pack a few things too, will you? We won't be back. Ace, Swindle, change and then let's re-up on merchandise," he said, "I left one of my favorite daggers in one of those unlucky bastards back at the Chateau." Ace agreed that a re-up on "merchandise" was in order. He had broken his drumsticks in the battle as well. If a Gadget Morph broke, so did the magic, he had explained, only Summoners, like Aor, could reform. His broken sticks were useless to him now.
Chloe got changed in a bedroom in the tower––too bad, not Strafford's room––into a graphic tee, jeans, and a kick ass pair of Prada hiking boots. She wondered how her clothes had ended up in the tower, but wouldn't bother to ask.
The bedroom was nice, but not spectacular. It was plain and white, with white bed dressings, white carpet, white walls, and white curtains. She could picture herself having a blast in that room––just her and a couple of cans of spray paint. It had no life, no personality and it almost felt like it had been left that way on purpose. Maybe it was waiting for someone to give it a life, to add their own personality and pizazz to it. She could think of a few ideas that would work well, but this wasn't her room. This wasn't her house or even the city she lived in. She wasn't even on Earth and who knew when she would ever see it again. She wouldn't ever consider the heavens home, she vowed to herself. Her home was in Adel, Georgia with Beth and Benjamin Clever. Her heart was there and there it would stay.
After stuffing a few things in a pack she found, she met the demigods down by the fireplace. She was surprised to find it moved aside and a stocked weaponry behind it. Ace shoved more Morph drumsticks in his bag and clasped on a mysterious necklace he grabbed from a shelf. And even though he had a Summoner, Strafford had armed himself with a few more bronze, razor sharp daggers engraved with his motto. Swindle had collected a sword or two, but she was left out, which left her a little perturbed since she thought she'd earned a sword by holding her own against Hades' children.
Packed and ready, Strafford unlocked the golden double doors that did not open up into the depot she had seen the twins disappear into, but a wide elevator with glass walls that displayed the elevators gears of gold. Strafford pressed a few buttons with strange symbols that Chloe now knew were letters of the Greek alphabet. It seemed the right combination of letters moved the elevator. She vowed she would figure out the key situation and learn what the letters meant so that one day, one day soon she hoped, she could get back to her family and wouldn't need their help to do so.
The elevator dropped from under them and when it had stopped, opened up onto the avenue below the tower. Chloe let her stomach settle, then stepped off into the sunshine.
Swindle had stayed behind to wait for Bill, so the three of them set off into the hustle and bustle of New Elysium without him. The clean, stoned avenue was teeming with citizens doing whatever immortals with an infinite amount of time on their hands did to pass it. But to keep a low profile, they slipped down a deserted alley and weaved their way down between the towering skyscrapers and resplendent castles.
At one point, they were spotted from the high window of a grand fortress by a girl in an extravagant sapphire gown and french hood. "It is Pythia!" She exclaimed, shocking Chloe with her recognition. "She has come!" She was clearly speaking over her shoulder to someone and dashed away from the window. They heard the crowd of excited female voices approaching the window before they saw them and Ace groaned and sped up.
"Bloody hell, not already," Strafford grumbled, lifting his arms above his head. In a strong, authoritative voice, he growled out a command in ancient Greek. Somewhere in the congress of Knowledge gathered in her head, she found the meaning of what he said.
Obey me.
As easy as picking flowers, he plucked rays of yellow sunshine down right out of the sky. The sunbeams bent to his will and followed his hands wherever he directed them. He started to bring them all together…one by one…
"See there!" The girl cried out from the window again, "It is she! I know, 'fore she is in the company of her guardian, the disgraced Prince---OH!" There was a sharp flash and cries of surprise as the flock of girls disappeared behind a blinding medley of sun rays that Strafford had snapped down like window shades to block their view. All they could see now was a barrier of sunshine.
"How did you do that?" She breathed, totally awed by what she had just witnessed even though it was blinding the crap out of her. Strafford had controlled the sun. He was so amazing.
"What fun is being the Sun Prince if you can't even bend the sun to your will a lil' bit?" Ace answered with a grin and a wink of his sun-circled eye.
"That was kind of cool," She said as they rounded a corner onto another narrow, deserted alleyway between two rows of cottages with stucco walls and tiled roofs.
"Kind of, wan?"
She rolled her eyes. "Okay. It was awesome."
"Tha's better."
Jerk, She thought, Gorgeous jerk. "So…how did that girl know about me?" She asked. "And I
know you know, so don't give me any crap."
"Now's not the time to discuss it, Red."
"I think I have the right to know. Something isn't right about all of this."
"You don't say."
"You're the Pythia, Chloe," Ace said, rearranging his pack on his shoulder, "The one tha' was––"
"Am I not your Prince, Ace?" Strafford snapped, "I said, not now."
THUD! Something huge came whooshing past them from above and landed with a bone-crunching thud at their feet, stopping them dead in their tracks.
Strafford threw his arm out in front of her, like the guardian he was. She grabbed onto it and screamed out like the girl she was. Ace just looked horrified.
They all stared. Gawked, more like it.
There was a cough. A moan of absolute pain. Her grip tightened on Strafford's arm as she turned her head, but she couldn't look away from the pair of eyes that stared up at her.
That is, the twinkling brown eyes of a young man…gorgeous…and lacking some of his clothes…
*****
XV. Strafford
Strafford had the blade of Aor pressed flat against the stranger's throat. The young man struggled to vocalize his protest, gave a pathetic little push against the blade and managed to scoot not even an inch out of the way of its fatal point.
Strafford already didn't like the look of the fella. He tried to pretend that it wasn't because the stranger only wore a pair of trousers or because Chloe was staring at him like she wanted to eat him up. Unfortunately, he was a handsome fella, even with his face cringed with pain, and Strafford told himself he wasn't the least bit intimidated.
He poked the bugger with his blade.
"Who are you?" He asked, lacing his voice with as much "I'd like to kill you slowly" as he could muster.
"P-Please…don't…." The young fella sputtered.
"Don't wha'?" Poke. "Your name, fella."
The guy shook his head at his request, then moaned in pain from the effort.
"Can't you see he's hurt?" Chloe snapped as she knelt beside him. "And stop poking him!"
He wanted to tell her that she didn't have the bloody authority to order around a Prince, but held his tongue. It wasn't worth the argument.
"He needs help!" She pleaded.
He hated, hated, hated that he didn't have the will to ignore her. "Fine," He snapped, "Ace, do somethin'. I'm already tired of his bloody whinin'."
His little brother was the perfect picture of surprise and Strafford knew why. This wasn't the way he did things. He'd never been a helpful sort of guy––especially to fellas with stupid curly hair like the idiot writhing in pain on the ground in front of him (Swindle was not included in this grouping). Under the blade of Aor, they were questioned first, and then, when he was sure he knew everything he wanted to know, after they had put his suspicions to rest, he offered aid. It was a cold-hearted operation he ran, but it had saved his life a thousand times over.
But now, she had happened, and even though he'd fed her a load of crap about his honor and blah blah other stuff being the only reason he'd been talked into being her guardian, it hadn't had any effect on how he felt about her. He would still do anything for her. Anything.
Gods, he was getting soft.
"Ace, please," Chloe said, "He's really hurt…" Her words brought Ace back to some kind of reality and he began rummaging through his pack like a madman.
Watching her coddle all over the guy, he summoned away Aor. He had been right on the verge of ending the dude and had looked forward to it. Unfortunately, there was hardly a chance that Chloe would find the same humor in watching the idiot explode into sun sparks as he would have and that took all the fun out of it.
Ace's laurel remedy, made from Apollo’s sacred plant, worked fast, and the strange fella was sitting up within minutes. More minutes passed and he got to his bare feet. The fella was tall like him, but not at all built enough to be what Strafford would call an actual threat. He was scrawny in comparison. His eyes were a chocolate brown, hardly the color that would make a wan blush when you looked at her, but they kept twinkling and he could tell Chloe was into them. And then there was the smile that came complete with a set of bloody dimples. Chloe blushed every time he looked her way and Strafford wanted him dead for it.
Giving them the best repugnant smile he had, the guy stretched his limbs and arched his back and turned to show that he was back to his proper health, surprised and happy to be so. Chloe just stood there watching, and blast it to hades that she wasn't doing what he thought had been reserved for only him.
Admiring.
The bastard.
One of his Prada soles found the fella's chest and he went flying into the outer wall of a cottage with a teeth-rattling bang. Luckily, nobody was home. Faster than a wink, Strafford was on him with a dagger at his throat. He had kept Aor safely recoiled inside of him. It was too risky and he was too annoyed. Just one cut from the sword of Apollo could leave the wanker with permanent sun burn, and he had a few questions to ask him first.
"Really, Strafford! Was kicking him necessary?!"
Ignore her. He did. He could feel the sun getting higher in the sky. Soon, there would be nothing anyone could say to calm him down if he got worked up. Better he kick him now than later.
"Who the hell are you, fella?" He pursued his earlier line of questioning. "And if you don't answer me this time, nothin' she says will save you."
The fella somehow grimaced and smiled at the same time. "If I knew, I would surely tell you."
Strafford lessened the space between his dagger and the fella's neck.
"Do not hurt me. I mean no harm."
"Answer me then, and make it quick. As you see, I'm an impatient bloke."
The fella grimaced again. "I have no name that I can remember, and that is the truth. I swear it."
"I don't believe you," He snarled.
"You have a dagger at my throat and I can ascertain that you are most capable of slitting it without regret. With those odds, you do not think that if I could give you a name, I would?"
But then, a way more important question plagued Strafford. Keeping his eyes on the fella, he jerked his head upward. "How did you survive tha' fall? Where did you come from?"
The fella replied with some sort of nonsense. "The sky."
He paused. "Repeat tha'."
"The sky. I fell from the sky."
"He's mad," Ace said.
"I believe that would make two of us," The fella said, looking at Strafford and gesturing at the dagger pressed to his throat.
Ace snorted. "I didn' see nothin' if you kill him now, bro." Strafford loved it when he and his little brother were on the same page…
"Don't you dare," snapped Chloe, "We need him."
Now that was something he hadn't been expecting to hear. He felt a twinge of jealousy rise up in him, but he ordered it away. "I don't think so, Red."
"We need him," She repeated, "He's…he's part of the prophecy somehow."
Now he had no choice but to look away from the bloke. "Wha' prophecy, Red?" Chloe looked positively sheepish, and he knew she had been keeping secrets. "Bloody hell…"
"I didn't know what it was," She protested. "There's just so much stuff in my head…I didn't know it was a prophecy. Not until now. He, like, triggered something in me." She gave the wanker a sweet look that made his blood boil.
"Where did this prophecy come from?" He snapped to get her attention back on him.
"It came to me with the Knowledge," She replied, "I heard, like, my own voice tell it to me."
Ace choked out the words before he could. "You have a future voice?"
Chloe frowned. "What do you mean, future voice?"
Ace blew out a breath. "It's like, the part of you tha' is prophetic is already in the future seein' everythin' tha's gonna happen and reportin' it back to you. It's an unbelievable gift. But tha's jus' it. Our Da is the only one to have ever had a future voice––"
"––which is h
ow he can see into the future of anybody he wants."
"Exactly, but tha's not all tha's crazy. If you have a future voice, it means you can receive absolute prophecies, and tha' is unheard of."
"What are absolute prophecies?"
It was Strafford's turn now. "They're prophecies triggered by circumstance and destiny, not of inquiry. They jus'…are. But you don't understand. You were born with the future voice, but the gift of absolute prophesying is granted by the Fates, and they wouldn' jus' give tha' to any ol' gack for no reason."
So you are indeed the one the gods have been waiting for. He had to admit that deep down he had wanted it all to be a lie. He hadn't wanted to share her with the world, but it was inevitable now and he resented it.
Then he wondered if Apollo knew that Chloe had a future voice. He sure hoped not.
"Wha' does the prophecy say?" He asked her, feeling apprehensive. He hated prophecies of any kind.
She repeated it for them with little difficulty. She had memorized it. She had taken the time to memorize it and hadn't said a frickin’ word about it to him. What other bloody secrets was she keeping from him?
Beautiful, beautiful, this one must be saved
From a love that is dark, and a heart that's enslaved.
There will be no faint of heart on the road to be braved
For the faint of heart will surely see an early grave
Beautiful, Beautiful, whose heart must be freed
From a battle of centuries and copious measures of greed
The most beautiful heart will sacrifice for one to succeed
For undone, it is written, the two will never concede.
Bloody hell.
It was one of the reasons why he despised prophecies. They never made any bloody sense! Rhymes and riddles…who had time for those? Not a real demigod. He didn't need his future told anyway. He was a Prince and one day soon, he'd be one with honor again. That was the only future that mattered.
"I just feel it in my gut, you know?" Chloe said, "This prophecy is for me and I'm supposed to fulfill it somehow. It's that Oracle's Intuition or whatever."
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