The Heir of Olympus and the Forest Realm (29 page)

“Hey, what’s that one?” He pointed out to their right. “The one that looks like a mouse.”

To Gordie’s surprise, Chiron laughed.

“A mouse indeed!” Chiron chuckled. “That is Leo the lion. Does it look familiar?” He looked down at Gordie.

“Yeah.” Gordie looked back at him. “I saw it when I was leading you out of the tunnel. It was all I could see in the darkness.” He stared back at the stellar cat.

“Yes. I saw it as well. It glowed very brightly that night and I don’t believe that was a coincidence.” The two looked at each other again.

“What do you mean?”

“What was Heracles most associated with?” Chiron asked. Gordie looked down as he thought. Then he remembered the Nemean Lion Skin.

“The Lion!” he said, looking back up at Chiron.

“Very good. After Heracles defeated the Nemean Lion, the great cats became reverent of him. They saw him as their king. I believe you share a similar connection, although you may still need to prove yourself to them.” Chiron watched Gordie, who looked bewildered.

“Do not trouble yourself with it.” Chiron placed a hand on Gordie’s shoulder. “You will prove yourself worthy when the time comes. For now, look to Leo as a guide . . . it seems he has already recognized your worth.” He smiled down at Gordie who returned the gesture in kind.

“So, what’s your favorite constellation?” Gordie asked. Chiron’s smile faded as he looked back into the cosmos.

“There.” He pointed to a general group of stars out to the left. “He has many names—Opiuchus, Serpentarius, Asclepius . . . another one of Zeus’s victims,” he sighed. Gordie didn’t really see the form of the constellation, but he didn’t want to press it as he understood it was an upsetting subject for Chiron for some reason.

“And look,” Chiron still sounded sad as he pointed out another constellation just to the right of the last, “there is your ancestor, Heracles—although, he no longer holds his club.” He smiled down at Gordie again, but his eyes showed no joy.

Ten minutes later, Gordie was back in bed, wondering what had upset Chiron so much. He thought about the people he missed, and for the first time in a few days, he thought about his father. “I’m sorry, Dad,” he whispered to the muted blue light that filled his room as a silent tear rolled down his cheek. Its track began to dry as he drifted to sleep.

***

Each of the next four days proceeded much as the first day of combat training, save for the return to Dasos. Each morning, Chiron brought Gordie to the spot where they had first practiced with weapons. Once, Chiron had brought a sword instead of a spear, and Gordie thought he was going to be dissected with each swing, but the centaur’s deft hands always turned the blade before contact so as to hit his pupil with the flat side. Although this didn’t maim Gordie, it still hurt like hell.

Each day, Gordie returned to the cavern to recuperate in the eucalyptus pool, without which he may have needed weeks between sessions. By the fourth day, Gordie had grown frustrated with his lack of improvement, a level of impatience that Chiron thought laughable given his millennia of existence.

“Gordon, nothing worthwhile comes easily,” Chiron had said. “You must be patient. Five training sessions does not Achilles make. It will take years to prepare you.”

“We don’t have years!” Gordie had argued. “Zeus is going to attack Hades! I have to finish the tasks ASAP!”

“Gordon, you are speaking of entities that have lived for thousands of years. When they set out to do something, they prepare, and that means more than a fortnight of planning. Besides, you have already forgotten, only Hermes can move between the planes now. Zeus will be unable to breach these barriers. We have time.”

“But how do you know?!” Gordie pleaded. “You don’t even know why they can’t come into our world. Maybe he’s close to figuring it out.”

“Maybe, but we have no evidence to support that. Besides, we have no choice but to continue your training. You are nowhere near ready to complete any task an Olympian will set before you.”

Gordie awoke the next day eager to prove himself. He dressed in a hurry, shouldered his bat, and made for the Great Hall. The rays coming through the skylights were still the pale gold of early morning. Gordie munched on some walnuts at the giant table as he waited for Chiron to get out of bed. He relished the opportunity to chide the centaur for sleeping in. Unfortunately, this pipedream dissolved when Chiron entered through the cave’s exit a few minutes later.

“What were you doing out there so early?” Gordie asked.

“Taking a walk—it is a beautiful morning,” Chiron answered. “I am surprised to see you up at this hour, but I am glad. Today, as I am sure you are aware, should be your first day of strength since you arrived. I am very eager to see what that will bring.”

Gordie had, in fact, forgotten that it had been twelve days since he arrived in Hades. Of course, that also meant that he would awake tomorrow to possess the same power, now having two consecutive days of Herculean strength after completing his first task.

“I totally forgot! But I don’t really feel any different right now. You don’t think I lost my power somehow, do you?” He looked at Chiron in alarm.

“Ho ho! Come, Gordon, surely you haven’t forgotten already? Do you not remember when you came to this part of the world? You did not possess power as the clock struck midnight. It will come. In fact, by my calculations, eight o’clock this morning will be the moment of truth, so to speak. It is my belief that your power
did
commence as the calendar day began in your homeland, but here, is not the time different?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Yes, twenty-four-hour cycles. So let us get in a few reps before you become my superior.” Chiron smiled.

They made their way back to the training ground and faced each other as usual. Waiting for them was an assortment of dangerous-looking equipment: a mace, a wooden staff, club, spear, sword, war hammer, shields, and, to Gordie’s amusement, a pile of shot-puts.

“What are we gonna do with those?” Gordie eyed the more nefarious objects in the pile.

“Experiment,” Chiron said with a smile. “Now let us begin.”

An eagle circled overhead and screeched his starting signal. As usual, Chiron began swinging his javelin at Gordie in slow-motion to allow his student to get a feel for the maneuvers of close-quarters-combat. In time he sped up the movements like a dancing instructor, and Gordie began to miss more and more blocks until he was repeatedly beaten at various points on his body. If anything, Gordie had become adept at dodging attacks once he gave up trying to use his bat to block, a skill that Chiron became increasingly frustrated with as he said, “If you run, you can only be caught!”

They danced as the hot sun roved overhead. Gordie even tried attacking a couple times. However, these usually resulted in missing his target outright and having a spear whack him in the back of the neck, after which Chiron always said, “Decapitated.”

They returned to their starting position. Gordie wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He was breathing hard, staring up at Chiron who watched him, fresh and unscathed.

“Again.” Chiron leapt towards him and swung his spear downward as the dirt plumed beneath his hooves. Gordie rolled out of the way just in time, and bounced back to his feet. “Defend. Attack. Do not run.” Chiron leapt at him again.

And Gordie saw his next move, as if in slow-motion. The centaur’s teeth were bared in violent concentration as he pulled his spear back in preparation for a thrust. He aimed the spear head right at Gordie’s chest as he roared.

Gordie almost laughed as he felt his fast-twitch fibers prepare to move him out of harm’s way. Stepping to the side he grabbed the shaft of the spear with his left hand. He brought his right arm around, swinging his bat downward to break the javelin in half. Chiron stumbled forward but maintained his balance before he turned to address his successful opponent.

“Well hello, Gordon Leonhart, Blood of the Lion.”

“Did you know?” Gordie thought he knew the answer.

“As a matter of fact, I did. Just before my attack you underwent a change. Did you feel it?”

Gordie thought hard, trying to remember if he had experienced any physical sensation to notify him of his unleashed power.

“I don’t know. I was focused on you, but then everything slowed down. I feel it now, though.” He looked down at his arms and recoiled. “Whoa! I see it now, too!”

His muscles were twice as defined as they had been minutes earlier. He flexed his bicep and marveled at the added bulk. A great vein slithered down his upper arm like a python.

“Indeed. When I lunged, I saw your muscle mass increase dramatically and I knew, which is why I used such a dangerous attack. Forgive me, but if you hadn’t changed then I probably would have killed you.”

“Well, uh, thanks for your honesty.” Gordie shrugged.

“Let us try an experiment.” Chiron walked over to the weapons cache and lifted a shot-put, which he handed to Gordie. “Let’s see how far you can throw it,” he said, taking a step back.

Gordie tossed the iron ball up and down in one hand as if it were a golf ball, then he crow-hopped and threw it like a baseball towards the deep valley below. The pair watched the black ball hurtle outward until it travelled beyond Gordie’s sight. Just before he asked, ‘Where did it go?’ he saw a crater open up in the ground a number of kilometers away. A flock of birds rose from the spot, wings flapping, squawking in protest.

“Was that the shot-put?” Gordie didn’t believe that he could have thrown the ball that far.

“It was,” Chiron nodded, “but if you had used proper form you could have thrown it much further. Again.” He handed another to Gordie.

Gordie looked at the centaur, dumbfounded that he could have scoffed at such a remarkable feat, but as he had become accustomed to such downplay of his accomplishments, he did not argue. He lifted the second ball to his shoulder. He hadn’t attempted shot-put before, but he had seen it on television, so he tucked the ball in the crook of his neck and started hopping forward. With a mighty heave he pushed the ball skyward. As he caught his balance he watched it rise up and up. Again the little black ball started to fade from his sight, but soon it became brilliantly visible when it burst into flames as it exited the atmosphere. Gordie’s jaw dropped as he watched the rising comet bore through the ozone layer before the fiery tail disappeared. He looked up at Chiron who was still looking skyward.

“Much better,” the centaur said as he looked down at Gordie with a smile and patted him on the shoulder. “Now, why don’t we do some real training?”

They went at it for hours. Chiron worked his way through the various weapons he had brought, but very few were apt to damage his pupil. The war hammer was too slow for the speed that Hermes had imparted on young Gordon, who danced around the long, heavy mallet with the ease of Cassius Clay, allowing him to land muted blows on the large equine body of his teacher. The lighter, more agile weapons leveled the playing field as the centaur was at least able to block the furious attacks of his charge. Gordie’s bat thudded against club, sword, and spear before ultimately shattering each weapon. Chiron did manage to get one shot in on Gordie’s back with a mace, which poked holes in his skin and bruised him deeply. The attack would have killed him without his elevated power.

“Enough!” Chiron breathed as he leaned against a staff. A drop of sweat rolled down the side of his face. “The transformation is truly remarkable. Your reactions are instantaneous, your attacks are brutal—although I suspect you have been holding back in that regard—and your movements are completely instinctual. If you were more disciplined I never would have come close to harming you, but I suppose your back is uninjured.”

“I’m good.” Gordie twisted his torso and stretched in various directions. “And you’re right, I have been holding back. You’re welcome.” He grinned.

“What have I told you about arrogance, Gordon? Do not be too proud of this minor victory. You will face much greater foes than myself.”

“Sorry.” Gordie rolled his eyes.

“Give me your club.” Chiron reached out. Gordie hesitated before handing him his bat. Chiron set the staff down and held the bat in one hand. It looked like a twig in his massive paw. He walked over to the pile of arms and snatched up a shield, which he held in his left hand. He banged the bat against the metal twice. The clang echoed around the hillside.

“When using a shield, you should always keep your arm bent at your hip so you can quickly lift it to block.” Chiron demonstrated by performing a slow chop with the bat and then lifting the shield to block his face as he crouched. “Now don your shield.” Gordie started towards the pile of armaments. “No,” Chiron pointed with the bat towards Gordie’s left arm, “that one.”

Chiron had been making Gordie practice mastering his Stygian ice every day with only a few instances of success. Once again, Gordie stared at his arm and strained his physical and mental muscles to force the Stygian ice from its hiding place. Once again, nothing happened.

“I don’t know how!” Gordie threw up his arms.

“You must focus,” Chiron said. Gordie held his arm in front of his face again and tried to bore a hole into it with his stare. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Chiron move—Gordie crouched and lifted his arm to block the furious chop coming at his head. The indestructible black ice erupted from his skin in time to catch the indestructible wood of the bat.