Prophecy of the Most Beautiful

by Jones, Diantha

  "The Graces won't come here," Strafford said about the mountain, as he settled her against a cave wall covered in ancient carvings. "I used to come here a lot during missions when I needed a safe haven. This cave is sacred and no one would dare attack us here." He saw her staring at some precious stones lodged into the granite. "Or steal from here."

  "What makes the cave sacred?" She asked, blushing.

  He looked up from the pillow he was making for her out of the torn robes they had brought along. "Zeus was born in this cave."

  "What?"

  "And it's also where Paris of Troy told Aphrodite she was the most beautiful of all goddesses––"

  "––therefore starting the Trojan War because Aphrodite gave Paris the beautiful Helen of Sparta as a reward."

  Strafford smiled. "The Knowledge?"

  She nodded and returned the smile.

  Across the cave, Ace was getting his mad scientist on with what was left of his medicines. Dropper was standing at the edge of the cave looking out over the plush landscape below him. Swindle sat down beside her. He had let Bill go off to hunt.

  Still looking a bit worn through, he removed his necklace and set it down in front of her. "You're going to have to ask him," He said, "Lord Apollo wouldn't do this for anybody else."

  "What are you talking about?"

  Swindle explained their idea about Dropper's Kismet. Then he pressed the tiny button on the locket of the necklace and she watched it unfold out, and out, and out, and out, until a big computer monitor was sitting in front of them.

  "Pretty cool. You think Apollo will say yes?" She asked, letting her fingers graze over the screen.

  "I think he'll do anythin' you say, Red." Strafford slipped his homemade pillow behind her back.

  "Why is that? Because I'm the One or whatever?"

  "Basically."

  "Come on, Strafford. What does that even mean?"

  "Later." And by the tone of his voice, that's exactly what he meant.

  Defeated for the moment, she turned her attentions back to Swindle. "I can't believe you guys have computers," She said. "And nice ones too."

  "Why not?" Swindle questioned. "The gods think humans come up with some very useful devices. Televisions, telephones, computers." Swindle gestured towards the machine in front of them. "When the gods find one that they like, they take it, do a bunch of divine things to it, and it comes out better than anything the mortal world has. It's how the gods stay current and 'cool'." He laughed. "You'll see just what I mean in a minute."

  Swindle woke up the sleeping device with a Greek command and then dragged his finger over the screen to a picture of a fire-red lizard that said The Salamander Network under it. With one tap, the computer brought up several network options each represented by a different symbol. Swindle pointed them each out and explained what they were. There was a heart for E-Cupid, an online dating site; a star for DemiBook, a social network for demigods; a rolled scroll for the electronic version of The Enlightener; a globe for PODA; and a white sneaker with two golden wings attached to it for Hermes Mail.

  "Demigods have their own social networking site?" Chloe asked with a chuckle.

  "Yes," Swindle responded, seriously, and she choked down her next giggle, "It's important that we all stay…connected. You know, keep tabs on each other. We come up missing so often…"

  Swindle stole a quick glance at Strafford, then tapped his finger on the white sneaker. A yellow screen with "Hermes Mail" written in large, black cursive script and the logo of the sneaker in the top left corner popped up on the computer. The screen was separated into four different colored squares: A white one for 'Gods', a green one for 'Heroes', a yellow one for 'Immortals Celeste', and a black one for 'Unfortunate Humans'.

  "Unfortunate humans?" Chloe said, gruffly, "How rude."

  "Don't take it personally," Swindle said, tapping the 'Demigods' button, "The gods just believe mortals got the short end of the stick with having to get old and die and all. It's nothing against you. They feel the same way about half-breeds." Swindle pointed at the screen. "My father said Lord Apollo doesn't check his mail often, so here's hoping he does very soon." Strafford snorted and Chloe assumed that was him expressing his doubt.

  State your name hero, The computer said with the voice of some woman.

  "Swindle."

  Swindle, otherwise known as Lenka Tahile, Declared Son of the Great Olympian, Hermes. It paused for several seconds. Voice recognized. Access granted.

  The screen changed to a bunch of multi-colored circles overlapping each other with more option buttons. Swindle tapped the "New Hermes Note" option and a smaller white screen opened over the circle-filled option screen.

  "Darn it!" They heard a male voice exclaim through the monitor's built-in speakers. Then right afterwards, parchment papers rolled up into scrolls begin to fly upward into the screen's view. "Where the hades did I put that invoice? It's so late. Father is going to crucify me."

  Swindle leaned in close to the monitor, knocked on the screen, and said "Father!"

  A face popped up into the screen's view as the scrolls dropped down around it. It belonged to a scruffy man with a pointed goatee and blonde hair that stuck out from underneath the white baseball cap he was wearing flipped backwards. He had on squared glasses over his royal blue eyes with little golden wings sticking out of the side of each lens. He was wearing a white and gold basketball jersey over a white t-shirt and was chewing hard on a piece of gum. This guy was Swindle's father? This was Hermes, the messenger god?

  "Who's there?" Hermes asked in an oily voice that made her feel like this was a deity that was always up to no good. He pushed up his glasses with his index finger. He leaned in closer to the screen and Chloe smiled because she could see right up his nose.

  "It's me, father. Lenka." He rolled his eyes.

  Hermes finally recognized his son and smiled as he stepped back from the screen. "Ah, Lenka, my boy, and Pythia and the Sun Prince, as well! What's up, kids? You're looking pretty sallow there, son, so I would say probably a whole lot."

  "I'd say," Swindle replied, "I had a little run in with the Scorpion. Almost died."

  Hermes raised a brow. "The Scorpion, eh? Interesting..." He trailed off into thought. Chloe found it strange that Hermes wasn't more concerned with the fact that his son had almost kicked the bucket. It was like he didn't care, and though it surprised her, it didn't seem to surprise Swindle.

  "Hey! Don't eat that, Bonkers! That's the invoice I've been looking for!" Hermes was looking down and shouting at something and Swindle's brush with death was forgotten. He cursed in Greek and jerked forward. Chloe was sure he had kicked whatever it was because she heard a loud, pain-filled squawk right afterwards, along with a flutter of long, white feathers shoot up into the screen's view.

  "Darn cranes," Hermes muttered, "Why did the Fates stick me with the cranes? Why couldn't Hephaestus have gotten the stupid cranes? Or Ares!" Hermes looked pleased with that thought and said happily, "How pissed off he would've been! However, he did get the smelly boar, which as you know, fits him quite properly." Hermes was clearly satisfied with that synopsis.

  He ducked out of sight for a second and came back up holding a crumpled scroll which he smoothed out with a wave of his hand. "Good as new!" He said, "Let me get this out of here before Bonkers tries to have it for lunch again." Hermes waved his hand and a gold pole that had two golden wings attached at the top and two gold snakes intertwined around it, appeared beside Hermes. He slid the scroll into the space between the snakes and the pole and then it disappeared.

  "What's that thing?" She whispered to Swindle.

  "It's a Caduceus," Swindle answered, "A herald's staff in simpler terms––a symbol of Hermes. My father uses it to send messages." She nodded understandingly.

  Hermes brushed his hands together. "Now that that's finished, what can I do for you, son?" Chloe heard another squawk and Hermes looked down and gave Bonkers the evil eye.

  "Well," Swindle st
arted, when he had his father's attention again, "My friends and I need to––"

  "Is that a new watch, my boy?" Hermes interrupted, leaning forward to peer over the screen at Swindle's arm that was resting on his lap.

  "Uh, yeah. Yeah it is," Swindle responded. "But it stopped working. Water damage."

  Chloe let out a little squawk as the screen flickered and Hermes' hand reached through it. He snatched up Swindle's arm so he could examine the watch further. Strafford looked as calm as he ever was and Swindle looked at her as if to say "See? Our computers are way cooler!"

  "I like, I like," Hermes said, the screen flickering as he pulled his arm back through it. He nodded approvingly. "How much did such a nice time piece cost you, son?" He eyed Swindle questioningly.

  "It didn't cost me anything. I stole it.”

  To her surprise, Hermes didn't scold his son, but grinned and said, "Nice, my boy, real nice. You make this old god of Thieves proud. Pay for nothing! Pilfer everything! That's my philosophy!" He winked and gave his son the thumbs up.

  Chloe raised surprised eyebrows and looked at Strafford who gave her a "Yes, Swindle is a thief" look. She shook her head, floored by the revelation. Swindle had seemed like such a straight-laced guy, but now that she knew he wasn’t, hell, she liked him even more.

  "I will trade you the watch for food for my friends and I, father," Swindle said, "As an offering. We're starving."

  Hermes' eyes lit up. "Done." He held his hand out for the watch and Swindle gave it to him, but she knew he hated that he had to. Hermes kissed his prize and slipped it onto his wrist.

  It immediately started ticking again. "Food is on the way. Now, what were you saying before, son?"

  "Yes," Swindle began again, eyeing his lost watch, "Chloe needs to send a message to Lord Apollo."

  "Do you now?"

  "Yes,” She said, “and it's an emergency."

  She heard papers rustling from inside the screen. Hermes grunted and jerked forward. She heard a squawk. Bonkers had been kicked again. "Emergency, emergency," Hermes said, leaning against the screen as though he hadn't just assaulted his feathered friend, "It's always an emergency. Everyone thinks their mail is more important than the next person's."

  "It's important, father," Swindle said again.

  "Yes, yes, I heard you. It's an emergency. Life or death as well, I presume?"

  Chloe nodded. "Yes. It is."

  A flurry of scrolls fluttered down from the top of the screen. Hermes groaned and batted a few of them away with his hand. "More messages, more letters. My work is never done…Very well then."

  The screen shifted up and a blank space with a blinking winged shoe as the cursor appeared beneath it. "Write your message. Quickly now. I have many more messages to deliver before day's end." Hermes ducked out of sight and scrolls began to fly up into the screen again. One flew through the screen and Hermes reached out and snatched it back. "Sorry!" He called up to them.

  "So," Swindle said to Chloe, "what are you going to say?"

  Chloe was looking for a keyboard. "How am I supposed to type?"

  "You don't. Just say whatever you want. It'll write for you."

  "Oh…okay." Chloe looked back and forth between Strafford and Swindle, realizing she didn't know where to begin. "What should I say first?" She asked. What kind of plea did you write to a god?

  "Something convincing, for sure." Swindle replied with a nod. "Try complimenting him. Gods love flattery." Chloe started biting her nails.

  Strafford grabbed her hand and pulled her fingers away from her mouth. "Stop tha'," He said, "Jus' write wha'ever comes to your mind. Tell him wha'ever you feel will convince him to help. You've got him under your thumb right now. Use it to your advantage." Strafford paused, then dropped her hand and looked away. She wondered why, but thought it was all better left alone for now. Instead, she concentrated on the letter. She stared at the screen for a long time, and then out of nowhere her lips took on the task all on their own.

  "Dear Apollo…" Greek letters appeared on the screen.

  "It's the default language," said Swindle. "Gods prefer ancient Greek over any other language, but you can always change it depending on who the message is for." Chloe nodded and continued.

  "It's Chloe. I hope you're doing okay. That's silly, of course you are. You are the great god of the Sun! I'm writing because I need to ask you something. I would like permission to deliver a prophecy that is outside of what I'm allowed to do according to the Oracle's Dictum. It's really important and I wouldn't ask if it wasn't." She paused, not sure of what else to say that would convince Apollo to help them.

  “We're in a lot of danger,” she tried. “We all might die if I can't come through for us. I can't let that happen. So please say it's okay. Thanks. Chloe.”

  "How's that?" She asked Strafford. He had been watching the screen as she spoke.

  "Good enough, I guess," He said with an almost smile, "Has enough appeal tha' it jus' might work." Chloe smiled at him, pleased that Strafford could acknowledge that she had done something right.

  Hermes popped back into the screen. The Caduceus appeared beside him and he stuffed a bunch of scrolls into it, then it disappeared again. "Did you hit the "Fly Me" button?" Chloe shook her head. "Well, what are you waiting for? Do it! Quickly now! I'm very behind in my deliveries."

  Chloe quickly located the red 'Fly Me" button on the bottom of the screen and tapped it. The letter lifted itself from the monitor and vanished into thin air above her head. Hermes' screen expanded again. A single scroll dropped down and bounced off of his head. Hermes caught it before it could fall to the floor and quickly unrolled it. His eyes grazed over the letter, he grunted and then rolled it back up. "Doesn't seem like an emergency to me," He mumbled. His Caduceus reappeared and he shoved the scroll into it. The Caduceus then vanished. "Done!" He said, as more scrolls dropped from above him and he groaned loudly.

  "Thanks, father," Swindle said, "We really appreciate you helping us out."

  "Anything for you, son," Hermes said as he stuffed more scrolls into his Caduceus. "And of course for our Oracle, Pythia." He smiled, but a frown quickly replaced it. "Bonkers! Scrolls are not bird food!"

  Swindle rolled his eyes. "We should go before the mountain Griffins get a whiff of our scent, father. And like I said, thanks."

  "Oh, you're welcome, son," Hermes said and they started to get up. Then he knocked on the screen to get their attention. "And remember one very important thing––The time is now, or not at all.” He didn’t wait for them to comprehend this, just saluted and the screen disappeared.

  "Your dad is pretty cool, Swindle," She whispered.

  "See? I told the others he wouldn't hurt you." He pressed a button and the monitor folded back in on itself. He looped the chain back around his neck and tucked the locket into his shirt.

  She frowned. "Why would they think that?"

  "Here, eat this." Strafford handed her a huge slice of pizza on a plate from a basket Dropper had just found on the cliff's edge. He and Ace were already chowing down on their slices and washing it down with nectar soda. "We're not stayin' here long. You need to get your nourishment up."

  She took the pizza, but turned back to Swindle to hear his answer. "Eat up, Chloe," He said, now avoiding the subject all together, "and be thankful that my dad helped us out and Strafford didn't take on the cooking. It means you don't have to worry about food poisoning." He grinned at Strafford's rude gesture and scampered off to eat with the others.

  "You suck," She said to Strafford before taking a bite of her piping hot pizza. It was pepperoni. Her favorite. She chewed nice and slow, savoring the taste. "I'm in heaven," She crooned, taking another bite, forgetting about anything else that had been on her mind, "Sweet, blissful heaven. Literally." A few more bites and she would be ready for slice number two, maybe three. She took a swig of soda.

  Dropper's laughter burst out into the cave. He, Ace and Swindle were throwing their leftover crusts over the edge of the cli
ff trying to hit something, such child's play.

  "I swear there's something wrong with tha' fella," Strafford said, "Fallen star or not, no man's eyes should twinkle tha' much."

  "Aw, give the guy a break," She countered, "A really big dog just tried to use his leg as a chew toy. Besides, I think he's charming."

  He raised an eyebrow. "Charmin', wan?" His feral eyes hinted that she should be careful how she answered that.

  She didn't back down. "Yes. He's polite and sweet and hasn't caused us any trouble so far."

  His nostrils flared. "You're right. The hellhounds and Scorpion were no trouble at all. And the Graces…definitely not his fault."

  She crossed her arms. "You're just too busy being a bad ass all the time to notice any of his good qualities."

  He grinned. “You think I’m a bad ass?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

  Swindle dropped down in front of them. "Had a thought," he said, "If Lord Apollo gives his permission for the Kismet, what's the Dropper going to give him as a tribute?"

  Strafford cursed. "I had forgotten abou' tha'."

  She frowned, confused. "Tribute?"

  "Yeah," Swindle said, "Kismet isn't free. You have to give up something, something valuable to you that has a special meaning for the privilege. It's an offering to Lord Apollo as the god of the Prophecy, and trust me, he'll know its' value. You can't fool him by offering something meaningless and pretending it isn't."

  Her heart sank. "Dropper doesn't have anything. That's Ace's shirt and Chiron gave him the mismatched shoes. He fell right out of the sky with just his pants and who knows how he got those. I'm sure constellations don't wear clothes."

  Swindle shook his head solemnly. "Well, he's going to have to come up with something to give Lord Apollo or we can forget about the Kismet."

  "He doesn't have anything," she said again to make sure her words were hitting home.

  "He has one thing tha' he can give up," Strafford said, "but you're not gonna like it."