"Me? Why me?!"
Strafford actually took the time to glare over his shoulder at her. "You didn' think I was gonna beg him, now did you?"
They left the angered Scorpion behind them as they slipped right under its dance of confusion, flitted between its legs, and made their way back into the maze of streets. Back towards the agora.
She heard the music and the cheering well before they made it. They burst into the marketplace and began screaming warnings to the people, while Ace and Dropper continued to make their way towards the acropolis with a barely lucid Swindle stumbling between them.
Nobody listened. They were all too drunk––with wine and lust––and it wasn't until the Scorpion had come stomping into the agora with a roar that could probably be heard back in their century, that anybody stopped dancing.
It was pure pandemonium. The Scorpion was pissed. It smashed everything in its path and had no mercy for the citizens of Corinth. They screamed and scattered and shouted curses to the gods. Every instrument, cart of food and cup of wine was abandoned with terrified haste and Chloe watched people get tossed around as the Scorpion executed its vengeance.
"Go with the others to the acropolis!" Strafford ordered her as they crouched out of range of the worst of it.
"Yeah right!" She replied, the thought of leaving him making her chest ache. "I'm staying right here!"
"Don't be thick, Red!"
She narrowed her eyes, not even considering listening to him. "I'm staying!"
Strafford looked ready to strangle her. "You're gonna learn to obey me, wan!"
"Maybe in your dreams, Irish!"
He glared at her, summoned Aor, then bolted into the agora.
Done playing games, Strafford got the Scorpion's attention by cutting off another leg.
The Scorpion stumbled and roared and stabbed at the Sun Prince with its stinger. But like it was no problem at all, Strafford ran, back-flipped over its tail, twisting in midair, brought down Aor and sliced right through it.
A vile smelling liquid exploded out of the amputated extremity and the Scorpion bellowed with irritation and pain.
It slammed down one pincher after the other, trying to smash Strafford as he raced around it again and again, confusing the thing.
Suddenly, he switched directions. As he rounded back, he angled his body, slid under the oversized bug like he was trying to make it into home plate, and drove Aor up into the Scorpion's stomach.
Its' one soft spot.
The Scorpion roared, flailing its pinchers and severed tail, then exploded into thousands of locusts that swarmed around her like bees on honey, which then burst into sun sparks, disappearing without a trace.
She unfolded herself from the ball she had curled into only to find Strafford standing over her. He didn't even look like he was aware of his own amazingness as he helped her to her feet. She was in awe of him. In complete and utter awe.
"There's still Borno," She said, dusting herself off.
"I know."
And like saying the hound's name out loud had summoned him, Borno appeared.
They stared. He growled, then barked. Strafford raised Aor to fight. She took off running. He cursed and chased her. Borno chased the both of them. Out of the agora and through the deserted and trash-filled streets of Corinth.
It took less than a minute to catch sight of the others. It was slow progress moving forward carrying a poisoned demigod between them.
"Go, go! Run!" She screamed. They looked back with surprise.
"You heard the wan! Bolt!" Strafford snapped, and Ace and Dropper realized how urgent it had become for them to get moving as they caught up to them.
But Borno leapt out and bit down on Dropper's leg as he tried to move faster, dragging him out from under Swindle's limp arm.
"Aaahhhh!" Dropper howled, crashing to the ground.
Strafford did not hesitate. He jumped onto the hound's back, punched it in the back of the head until it let Dropper go, rolled and flung him away like he was the runt of the litter. It was extraordinary.
"Keep movin’!" He shouted as he pulled Dropper to his feet. Ace, being stronger than she had thought, hoisted Swindle up onto his shoulders and took off.
Borno had shaken off his hard landing and was already pursuing them again.
"This way!" She shouted and led the way down a path away from the acropolis. She would find another way to beg Apollo's mercy once they got rid of the hound.
She was sure she saw the end of a bluff and the ominous ocean stretching out behind it before anyone else. She quickly surveyed the area and realized their one and only escape at this point would be to jump right off of it. Her heart sank. Her Intuition had failed her and she had led them right into more danger.
It was obvious when the demigods realized what they were about to attempt by their loud curses. But no one stopped running, not even Dropper, whose face was wracked with pain. They only braced themselves for the inevitable.
Strafford grabbed her arm. "Don't land on the rocks." Fear swallowed her voice and she nodded at him, though his advice was less than encouraging.
The bluff was almost at an end. Borno was right on their heels, barking and gnashing. Just a few more feet now…
Strafford let her go, turned back, spread his arms wide, and she realized what he was about to do. "Come and get it you mangy bastard!" He bellowed. And Borno did just that, jaws wide, a charging force of fur and claws.
"Strafford!" She screamed, but then, she was leaping and falling, flying, flailing her limbs, shouting and screaming every curse available, then falling some more.
Her body broke through the surface of the waves like a boulder through a concrete wall and her ears filled with water and a crushing silence. She sunk ten feet before opening her eyes and coming to the realization that she had lived. Something huge crashed into the water beside her as she prepared to propel herself back towards the surface. She saw the creature's four legs start to tread the water just as she was struggling to do in her debilitating wool robe. Borno, she thought, Swim away. But she couldn't. She had to make sure the others were okay.
Her eyes burned from the salt of the ocean water and everything had become blurry. She couldn't see any of them and she so wanted to. Suddenly, Borno started to thrash around in the water like he was having a seizure. Panicked by this and running out of air, she kicked her strong legs and swam to the surface as fast as she could. She came up, gagging for oxygen.
"Chloe! Take my hand!" It was Ace. He was close by, but she couldn't see him. Her eyes burned so bad.
"Swindle! Dropper! Strafford!" She sputtered back at him. She heard Ace curse then felt his arm start to pull her through the water by her waist. "No!" She cried, "I have to find them!"
"We are safe, beautiful Chloe." Someone pulled her up onto a rock. She blinked several times and managed to make out Dropper, soaked to the bone, wet hair clinging to his handsome face. After releasing her and giving her a pained smile which she returned, he went back to wrapping his injured leg with a torn strip from his robe. Swindle was nearby, breath raspy and forced, looking very faint. How he had survived the jump, she didn't know and didn't care. Shedding her stupid robe, she crawled over to him and took his hand. He smiled up at her and squeezed it.
"You will not die," She said to him and he nodded right before his veiny eyes closed.
Ace pulled himself up beside her and Swindle. But still, there was no Strafford.
"Strafford…" She said, eyes still burning. She refused to let go of Swindle's hand. Ace was checking his best friend's vitals––pulse, breathing. She hoped with all of her heart that she wasn't about to lose a friend. Or two.
"Ah, wan," Ace said, his voice strained, cutting away at Swindle's robe, "He's fine. As always. Look for yourself."
She shielded her eyes from the sun, easing the burning, and looked out.
There he was, black hair smooth and gleaming, swimming towards them with his dagger held in his teeth. Borno's motionless
body floated only yards behind him and already, the bloodied currents were taking the hound out to sea. Strafford made it over to them in less than a minute and climbed onto the rock beside her, a triumphant glint in his eye.
The circumstances would not allow her to fully enjoy how deliciously his wet t-shirt clung to his muscles. "I…I thought you were…"
He looked down at her. "You were worried, wan?" Though he wasn't smiling, his eyes were mocking, so she crossed her arms and shook her head, no. He shrugged and fingered the neckline of her wet shirt. His eyes floated down and she realized that her own wet shirt was clinging to a couple of things too. Blushing, she moved her arms up, and Strafford winked.
"How's Swindle doing?" He asked his brother, becoming quite serious. Ace looked up and shrugged. She could tell he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to save his friend's life and the fear in his eyes made her heart ache.
"Jus' do your best, lil' bro," Strafford said, "I know you won't fail him." She saw the effect Strafford's words of faith had on Ace right away. With a look of determination, he started fumbling around in his robe, no doubt looking for the meds he had stored in it.
And then everything went dark.
"Um, I believe we're being rescued," Dropper said, pointing.
Sure enough, a boat was approaching them and as it got closer it eclipsed the sun, leaving them in complete shade. Strafford pulled Chloe to her feet. Ace stood slowly, while she helped the wounded Dropper up. Strafford and Ace were apprehensive, she could tell. But so was she. Dropper was the only one that thought the boat was friend and not foe.
It's a thalamegoi, a barge used for transporting nobility, she thought, knowing. The hulls were twins, each curved upward with the tips coiled back on themselves and the planked sides were drilled with holes to hold oars, though there were none nor any apparent explanation for how the barge moved. A cloth canopy covered the deck, providing shade from Apollo's blazing sun and the tasseled gold fringe of the canopy glittered in the rays.
"You all look wet!" A voice called down to them. They looked up.
Chloe's mouth dropped open.
It was the boy from the agora––the one with the blonde hair and molten gold eyes who had practically kissed her into a koma. He was reclined across the edge of the giant barge with his hands behind his head as if he didn't have a care in the world.
Oh no, she thought.
"Is tha' who I think it is?" Ace said to her surprise. He and Strafford exchanged a look that said that this next experience was not going to be a positive one.
They know him.
"I'll let down the ladder and you can climb up!" The boy shouted. A rope ladder dropped down the side of the barge.
"Ladies first," the Dropper said, gesturing at the ladder and smiling at Chloe. "I will be there to catch you if you happen to slip." But Strafford's body language and fierce glare made it clear that there was no way in Myth he was letting this go down. Dropper smirked. "It was worth a try." With his leg wrapped, he ascended the ladder with little problem. Ace carried a barely conscious Swindle up the ladder on his back, and at the same time, Bill reappeared and landed on the front hull. When it was her turn though, she hesitated.
"It's okay, wan," Strafford said, "Everythin's good. I don' plan on being in the company of this melter for long."
Thank the gods, and she grabbed the ladder to climb up.
The boy didn't move until Strafford had come aboard, and even then he took his time. Ace laid Swindle across a chaise lounge underneath the canopy and put one of its brocaded pillows under his head. Swindle moaned a little but didn't open his eyes. Dropper settled himself on another lounge with his robe bundled in his lap and propped a pillow under his leg.
The blonde boy watched all of this with unfeigned boredom––which royally pissed her off––before swinging his feet towards the deck and leaping down. Chloe frowned with contempt because not only did he not seem concerned about her injured friends, but he had changed his clothes and no longer wore his disguising wool robe.
In its place, he wore a pair of jeans, red and white Converse and a red and white letterman jacket with "L.S.H" initialed on the front. His blonde hair was tousled and chic and his gold eyes glittered even though the barge was shaded from the brilliant sun.
“Wha’ do you want?” Strafford asked, already looking pissed off.
"Please, just sit," The boy said, ignoring him. The coastline was already several meters behind them. "We have a lot to talk about." He turned his back on them.
She started to oblige him, then froze. The back of his letterman jacket said: Love Struck High, with an arrow shoved right through the "o" of "Love".
How could I have not figured this out earlier? It all made sense now.
"You're Cupid!" She shouted, accusingly.
The beautiful boy turned back and grinned. "In the flesh, sweetheart." He winked and gestured for her to make herself comfortable on an available lounge. She didn't move.
Strafford was giving her a strange look. "You've seen him before, wan?"
She knew there was no point in lying. "Yeah, in the agora. He, uh…he, when––"
"I kissed her," Cupid finished, "Very passionately, I might add."
"You kissed her?" Strafford growled. Dropper was chuckling to himself, but Chloe could find no humor in this situation.
"Everyone was doing it, Prince," Cupid replied with a hint of a smile. "But I can't really feel guilty about it. She eagerly kissed me back and asked for more."
Strafford turned a cold gaze on her. He now knew what she'd really been doing when she'd disappeared in the agora.
"I––he––couldn't––he's Cupid for the gods sake!" She said, finding no other way to explain herself. Strafford looked away and never said a word in response. She wanted to stomp her foot and loudly proclaim that Cupid might have stolen a kiss, but he had stolen her heart. But he didn't seem to be in the mood to hear any of that now.
"Please, will you two just sit?" Cupid said, innocently, and gestured at a round table piled with junk food in the center of the circle of lounges. "Have some refreshments. Twinkies? Ding Dongs? Potato Chips? Honey roasted cashews? Shall I pour anyone a drink?" He held up a ceramic jug containing some kind of juice.
"Never accept a drink of any kind from him," A female voice spoke up behind them.
They all turned to see who it belonged to.
It was a tall woman, beautiful and blonde, with legs that went on for miles. She barely seemed to notice their surprised expressions as they gawked at her. She knew she was stunning. "At best, you will find yourself consuming a love potion," she continued, "At worst, it is a love potion to make you fall in love with him. I would not put faith in those Twinkies either."
Chloe heard Dropper make a slight choking sound. "Who are you?" He breathed in awe and she felt a slight ping of jealousy that she was nonplussed to feel. Dropper was looking at this woman like he had at her every chance he got. She refused to admit to herself that she had become just a bit territorial of him.
"She is the goddess of the Soul," Cupid answered for the woman, then a deep scowl implanted itself on his face, "Her name is Psyche, and she is my wife."
*****
XXII. Ace Remedy
"What are you doing here?" Cupid snapped. He crossed his arms and awaited his wife's reply. Psyche took her time answering. She tugged at each of her leather-covered fingers, pulling off really long gloves. Psyche's dark brown eyes gave them each a look of detest. Ace watched her fold her gloves neatly, put them in a small pouch on her hip, smile with a sardonic air at her husband's leering expression, then shift her gaze back to the sparkly-eyed wanker, Dropper. He was still sitting on a chaise trying to swallow the pharmakon (herbal) pill Ace had just given him for the pain.
Ace had been smart and had stored medical supplies in the wide pockets of his robe. He had lost a couple vials of his blood clotting enhancer and all of his gauze and bandages were ruined from the jump, but everything else had survived. He ha
d rewrapped the Dropper's leg and now he was praying to the gods that his serpent anti-venom was strong enough to counteract the Scorpion's venom. He had made it himself from the carefully-extracted venom of the Basilisk serpent––venom Swindle had risked his life to help him get. He hoped their efforts would not prove to have been wasted now.
"So this is who our Lady is making such a fuss over?" Psyche said, her English-style accent kind of poetic. She was a bloody beautiful goddess. Her neat hair framed her heart-shaped face, creating a background for her perfectly rosy cheeks and romantic eyes. Her body was long and shapely and covered completely in leather. Her features were as sharp as her attitude, but overall, she was a vixen.
"You didn't answer my question, Soul," Cupid quipped at his wife.
"I love when you call me Soul. It's so romantic." But Cupid's expression only grew more aggravated as he wasn't going for the distraction. Psyche sighed and strutted past them. "I was sent to make sure you completed your task accordingly," She said, shortly, "Why I wasn't just given the assignment in the first place, one will never know––but, here we are."
Cupid groaned. "Why is it always you that she sends after me?"
"Scared I may catch you entwined with a lover, Amor?"
"As if you ever would. Besides, you know I do not keep lovers."
"So you claim." Psyche glared at Chloe as if she knew her husband had been snogging the Oracle, but no one here was going to confirm that for her. Then her attention was back on Dropper.
Ace thought it was pathetic how Cupid and Psyche had ignored his best friend who lay dying beside him. They hadn't lifted one divine finger to help Swindle. But it was proof that what Strafford had always said was true. The gods didn't really care about half-breeds. They were pawns used to settle the gods' disputes and conflicts without ripping the heavens and Earth apart, and in the thirty centuries the gods had been around they had seen so many heroes die that they had become numb to it. They were perfectly content to let the Fates' string unravel––even if it frayed right to your death.
Prophecy of the Most Beautiful Page 23
