The Mystery of the Tenth

by Chantel Acevedo

  Just then, Ari made her way casually back to us. She made a show of pressing buttons on the machine while whispering, “Your boss isn’t looking. Let’s go!”

  Once the coast was clear, we ran all the way to the subway station, stopping a few yards in front of the metal stairs that would take us to the platform. There was a woman sitting on the lowest step, strumming a golden guitar. She wore a beanie on her head, a leather jacket, and black jeans. At her feet was a guitar case, full of money from people who’d dropped bills and coins inside.

  The music she was playing was like nothing I’d ever heard before. Each chord drew a listener, and soon the sidewalk was crowded with people swaying together to the music and blocking our way up the stairs.

  “She’s amazing,” Mela said, tugging off her headphones.

  Thalia grabbed hold of Nia’s hands, and the two of them spun around twice to the music.

  As for Ari, she’d covered her face with her hands and was muttering, “Now what?”

  “Excuse me,” I said, pushing through the crowd. “Coming through.” When I put a foot on the lower step, the woman stopped playing and grabbed my ankle.

  “Hey!” I said, looking down at the top of her head.

  Then she turned to gaze up at me, and I realized why everyone was so enchanted.

  “Aphrodite,” I whispered. “What are you doing here?”

  She laid the golden guitar in its case, and the people sighed, sad that the music had ended.

  Very quietly, so that only I could hear it, she said, “Glad you could come out, too. Shall we?” She put her hand up and wriggled her fingers, inviting me to take it.

  “You said you couldn’t get involved,” I said.

  “I shouldn’t. But who is going to stop me, honestly?”

  I shrugged. If Aphrodite herself wanted to help, then I was all for it.

  Nia was at my side at once. “We should go, Callie.”

  “Didn’t your parents tell you about Stranger Danger?” Thalia said under her breath.

  “It’s fine, everybody. She’s going to help us,” I said. The others stared at me as though I’d suddenly started speaking a different language. Only Ari shrugged and shook her head. “Okay, let’s go,” I said to Aphrodite. “Do you have a MetroCard we can all use for the subway?” I asked.

  Aphrodite laughed, gripped my hand hard, and yanked me toward her. I grabbed on to Nia and Thalia, who must have taken ahold of Mela, who probably grabbed on to Ari for support. Because before I knew it, my feet had slipped on the metal step, and I fell.

  And kept falling.

  Dropping through nothing, holding on to Aphrodite’s hand.

  It took a second, maybe less, but when we stopped, we were standing in an old, dark tunnel, wide enough for a train. The faintest moonlight pierced the manhole cover over our heads. It was damp, and cold, and I thought I heard somebody snoring very far away.

  “Is everybody all right?” I asked a little weakly, my stomach queasy from all the falling.

  Nia looked up, and we all followed her gaze as she looked at the manhole cover. “Are we underground now? Like mole people?”

  “More importantly,” Mela said, “are we going to encounter any mole people down here?”

  “Most importantly,” Thalia asked, “who is she?”

  They all turned to look at Aphrodite, who took a little bow as she waited for introductions.

  “Everybody,” I said, hoping they would all be cool about this, “this is Ari’s aunt. Aphrodite.”

  Thalia screamed, Mela closed her eyes, and Nia stumbled back a step.

  So much for being cool.

  “Auntie A, what are you doing here?” Ari asked, coming forward and hugging Aphrodite around the waist.

  “I couldn’t let you do this one on your own, sweet girl,” Aphrodite said.

  “We’ve got this,” Ari said, a touch of irritation in her voice.

  “Your aunt is beautiful,” Thalia whispered. “Like, total celebrity status gorgeous.”

  Aphrodite smiled and twirled a strand of hair around her finger.

  The snoring in the distance stopped, then started again with a mucus-y snort.

  “Pretty is not going to help with whatever is making that noise,” Nia said under her breath.

  “I’m more than a pretty face, young one,” Aphrodite said. She snapped her fingers, and suddenly a wooden chest appeared at her feet. “Come closer, darlings. I can’t help you fight what’s lying in the dark, but nobody said I can’t give you gifts. Everyone knows the cool aunt is the one with the best gifts.”

  “My aunt Ellen always gives me a new toothbrush for Christmas,” Thalia said, scrunching up her nose.

  Aphrodite beckoned everyone closer. “No toothbrushes here. Behold.” She opened up the chest, and a soft, golden light filled the cavernous tunnel. “These are your emblems. Emblems are objects associated with your magic and were gifts from Olympus bestowed upon the muses from time to time. Ancient artists would always depict the muses holding their emblems.”

  I remembered the statue of Calliope my mom still had on her dresser. She held a scroll and a writing instrument. Is that what Aphrodite was going to give me?

  “For you, Thalia, Muse of comedy,” Aphrodite said, pulling out an instrument that mostly resembled a horn.

  Thalia took the horn in hand. A smiling theater mask was etched into its side.

  Aphrodite smiled. “In the ancient days, actors used this item to amplify their voices onstage. You, dear funny one, are loud, but this? This will make your voice so loud that the heavens will hear it.”

  “Oh no,” Nia muttered.

  Aphrodite dug into the chest again, and this time she pulled out a beautiful silver mask, the mouth turned down into a grimace.

  “I suppose that’s mine,” Mela said, looking a little sad about it.

  Nodding, Aphrodite settled the mask over Mela’s face. “What is tragedy but a reminder that life is short, and that love in all its forms is the best way to make the days long? When you wear this mask and call your magic, you will remind the one who receives it about these truths, and you will help them heal their hurt.”

  Mela slid the mask onto her head. “Okay,” she said quietly.

  “My turn?” Nia asked.

  Now the chest glowed even more brightly. “Nia. Muse of science, a gift from the heavens for you.” Aphrodite reached into the chest and pulled out her hand, balled into a fist. “Take it,” she said, and Nia held her hands out. Aphrodite then dropped a glowing ball of light into her cupped palms. It was so bright we couldn’t really look at it.

  “It is your very own star, Nia. Let it shine in darkness, and all will be well.”

  Nia blinked at the light in her hands. “Oh my goodness,” she whispered.

  I cleared my throat. I was next. What would Aphrodite give me? I looked up at the goddess, who was biting her bottom lip.

  “Is there something in there for me?” I asked quietly.

  Aphrodite shook her head.

  My stomach felt as if it had fallen all the way to my feet. It was like never getting picked for the team at recess, but a million times worse. The other muses looked away, holding tightly to their emblems. I thought about the tenth muse, and how there could only be nine of us. Was this a sign?

  “Why?” I asked, my voice just a whisper.

  Aphrodite laid a hand on my head. “Dear one,” she said. “There is an emblem for you, but it is not mine to give. It will come to you only when you most need it, for it is too powerful a thing. Take heart, Callie.”

  I swallowed thickly, trying to fight back tears. “Okay, I guess,” I said.

  The others gathered around me and gave me a hug. “Don’t be sad,” Thalia said.

  “It’s okay to be sad,” Mela put in.

  Nia let me hold her star, which was cool, not warm at all. Like holding a marble that you left in the refrigerator. It was hard to look at straight on, but very beautiful. “I’ll let you borrow it,” she told me
with a wink.

  “Thanks,” I said. Then, turning to Aphrodite, I asked, “What do these emblems do, anyway?”

  Aphrodite stood up straight, slamming the chest closed, and it disappeared in a flash of light. “Glad you asked,” she said. “Firstly, they are physical reminders of your gifts. But they’re more powerful than just that. Up until now, your powers have been, shall we say, human-bound. Beings like me, and like the one snoring away in the distance, have been immune to your efforts.”

  I thought of how we couldn’t fight the sirens last year with our powers. Or the cyclops, or Medusa, for that matter.

  “But these emblems help you . . . amplify things. They wouldn’t affect me, of course, or my sister Athena. But the other beings, the ones that are not quite gods, yet not quite humans? Well, these items should help with them a great deal.”

  The snoring stopped all at once, and silence filled the tunnel. Somehow, the silence was louder than the snoring had been.

  “That’s my cue to go,” Aphrodite said. She ruffled Ari’s hair. “Love and luck to you all, darlings. Remember your gifts! And don’t tell Athena I was here.” She put her fingers to her lips in the “shh” sign and disappeared with a small whooshing sound.

  “Now what?” Nia whispered.

  “Be brave, I guess. What else is there to do?” I said.

  Nia lifted the star in her hand high overhead, illuminating the tunnel for miles and miles.

  “How is everybody feeling?” I asked.

  “Good,” Thalia said.

  “Ready,” Mela added.

  “Let’s get that tapestry,” Nia said.

  I looked at Ari, who was breathing hard.

  “Come on, hero, you’ve got work to do,” I told her. She put her hand in mine, and together the five of us walked in the light of Nia’s star toward the unknown.

  Chapter 24

  Questions and Answers

  Gray stones, stacked one on top of the other, lined the walls of the tunnel, which arched overhead. Here and there, as we walked, I noticed staircases leading up to sealed doors. Every once in a while the tunnels shook, as if the ghosts of subway trains were rumbling by.

  The snoring had started up again, and it was getting louder by the moment.

  “What is this place, anyway?” Mela asked.

  Ari answered. “It’s the oldest subway tunnel! The rails on the ground aren’t live, which is why we can walk on them. Otherwise, we’d be electrocuted!”

  Nia kicked some rocks, which bounced against rails that ran along the ground.

  Thalia hummed a little tune and twirled her trumpet like a baton. “My mum used to say that there were giants that lived in the London Underground. Maybe that’s what we’re heading towar—”

  We all stopped. The star in Nia’s hand had lit up the farthest reaches of the tunnel, and in the distance we could see a glimmering something. The snoring was louder than ever.

  Nia shaded the starlight a bit. Thalia quit spinning the trumpet. Mela slid on her mask.

  We took a few more steps, and there was a flash of light against a large, flat object. Slowly, we made our way forward, the starlight illuminating the shape as we got closer.

  “What in the world is that?” Ari whispered.

  Four more steps and I noticed the wheels, a massive hunk of metal painted black, a clock, and a bell.

  “It’s a train!” Mela exclaimed.

  “An old-timey one!” Thalia added.

  They were right. A steam engine sat there on the tracks, underground. It looked exactly like the kind of train I’d seen in movies set in the past. I rubbed my sleeve against the side of the engine, polishing it in circles until its bright red color appeared.

  Nia climbed aboard and started messing with a lever jutting out of the floor. “Take us to the North Pole!” she said, laughing.

  Thalia and Mela jumped in next, elbowing one another for a spot at the window.

  “What about the snoring?” Ari asked. She was right—it was loud now. Whoever or whatever was making that noise wasn’t far away.

  “Sound asleep still,” I said. “Come on. A look inside won’t hurt. Besides, the train is blocking the tunnel. This might just be a dead end for us.” I shuffled in, holding out a hand for Ari. She took it, stepped up, and—

  Oooooooooooooh!

  The train whistle blasted, shrill and long, right over our heads. A great big plume of smoke poured out of the train’s smokestack, and ahead of us, an iron box full of coal went up in flames. We all screamed, scrambling for the handrails. But before any of us could even think of jumping off, the train was rolling forward, gathering speed, and whistling every so often. The dark tunnel opened like a mouth ahead of us, and a moist wind whipped our hair back.

  I grabbed the lever and pulled it toward me, hoping it was the brake. The train’s wheels squealed, but it didn’t slow down one bit.

  “What are we going to do, Callie?” Mela was shouting, but I had no idea. The train rolled on for a while in the dark. Nia’s star lit up the tunnel far into the distance. She laid it safely behind a lever, then she examined the compartment we found ourselves in, muttering to herself about fireboxes, and boilers, the properties of steam, and other science-y things that didn’t make sense to me.

  Eventually, the train began to slow, rolling to a stop. The snoring behind us rumbled on, undisturbed. But now a new sound had joined in. It was a crackling noise, like cellophane being crumpled up, and it grew louder by the second.

  We all drew closer to one another, until Mela’s shoulder bumped against mine on one side, and Ari’s on the other.

  “What is it?” I heard Thalia ask. Something was coming toward us, its shape becoming clearer with each snapping step. Was this why Aphrodite had given us emblems?

  “I think I see something,” Nia said, narrowing her eyes. She picked up her star and held it out so that more of the tunnel was illuminated.

  “Oh my gods,” Ari gasped. “Do you know what that is?” Ahead, a lion stalked the tracks, back and forth. But it wasn’t just a lion. This lion had golden wings speckled in blue leopard spots, and it had the head and neck of a man with flaming red hair. He flapped his wings lazily, which is what made the crackling sound, as if his bones were grinding together. The lion stopped several yards from the train, his tail swishing so violently behind him that we could hear it cut through the air.

  “Here at last,” he said, sitting on the tracks. A bored look crossed his face, and he started to lick his paws.

  “That’s a sphinx,” Mela said with a moan.

  “A sphinx?” I asked. “They’re the creatures that ask riddles, right?” I remembered reading about them in a textbook back in elementary school.

  Ari nodded. “Yep. And they eat you when you get the answer wrong.”

  “Does this thing go in reverse?” Thalia asked, eyeing the train compartment.

  “It’s part of the quest,” I said. “We have to try.” I knew I sounded braver than I actually felt. Ari mouthed the words thank you at me, then turned to face the sphinx.

  “I’m guessing you have some questions for us,” Ari said, putting her hands on her hips. “Let’s hear them.”

  The sphinx stopped licking his paws. “Not for you, bug. For the muses.” He coughed once, then again, until he was hacking.

  “You okay there, mate?” Thalia asked.

  We watched as the sphinx puked up a giant hairball, which plopped wetly on the tracks. “Ah. Much better,” he said.

  “I’m going to be sick,” Nia mumbled.

  The big cat slowly made his way closer to the train. He was bigger than a regular lion, with paws the size of watermelons. He sat again and let his tail curl around him. “I have three questions for you.”

  “Three?” I asked. Didn’t the sphinxes in stories just ask one?

  The sphinx purred. “Yes. Three. Get them wrong, I beg of you. I’m very hungry.”

  “And if we get the answers right?” I asked.

  “That would
be boring. But I’d have to let you through and go catch a rat or something for my dinner instead. Deal?”

  “Do we have a choice?” I asked. Even if we did, this was part of the quest. We’d agreed to help Ari, and we couldn’t back out now.

  The sphinx laughed. “Of course not. Shall we?”

  I looked at the others, and they all nodded grimly, ready for anything.

  “Go on,” I said.

  The cat sat down again before speaking. “My first riddle is for Nia, descendent of Urania, Muse of science.”

  Nia straightened up to listen, clasping her hands behind her back, her posture perfect as usual.

  “What can fill up a room but takes no space?” the sphinx asked. “And no helping her!” he warned the rest of us. The sphinx made a funny face, as if even thinking about people cooperating with one another grossed him out.

  Nia stood very still and closed her eyes.

  “Come on, Nia,” Thalia cheered her on.

  “You can do it,” I said.

  “I know she’s got this,” Mela added.

  Nia stomped her left foot in frustration as she thought. She picked up the star and held it in her hand.

  “I don’t think these are going to help,” Mela added, holding up her own emblem.

  I nodded. Why had Aphrodite given us these emblems anyway? What use were they in this situation? Anyhow, I didn’t even have an emblem. If they were any help at all, I’d be out of luck.

  Thalia disagreed. “I don’t know. Aphrodite said, ‘Remember your gifts,’ didn’t she? It had to mean something.”

  Suddenly, Nia gasped, looking at the star in her hand, then back up again. “Of course!” she said, delighted. She turned to the sphinx, whose ears had perked up. “The answer is light. Light fills up a room but takes no space!”

  The sphinx clapped lazily, his huge paws making a muffled thwap sound when he put them together. “The next question is one you will like. It requires a team effort,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Mela, Muse of tragedy, and Thalia, Muse of comedy, put your tiny brains together and work this one out: I am a player at work, and a worker at play. Who am I?”