The Heir of Olympus and the Forest Realm (27 page)

“Chiron, it would be unwise of you to hide this from me.” The voice Gordie heard was that of a young man, but one that sounded very tired. To Gordie’s mind, the threat, whatever it was referring to, did not sound sincere.

“I hide nothing from you, Apollo,” Chiron answered, as Gordie slapped his hand over his mouth to keep from gasping. Somehow in that room, Chiron was in communication with Apollo, God of Music and Healing, but mostly known for his role as the driver of the sun—the being responsible for making the sun circumnavigate the globe, according to myth.

“I know Hermes is up to something, but I implore you to tell me what it is. These are very troubled times. I know of the boy and I know his weakness. Do not force me to take matters into my own hands,” Apollo said.

Gordie was struck by this last statement:
I know his weakness
. Whatever that meant, he did not like the sound of it.

“I know not of what you speak,” Chiron’s voice was calm and heady, “but I would have thought, after all I have done for you, that you would not be so hostile towards me.”

As Apollo sighed, the intrigue became too much for Gordie. He inched his face beyond the frame of the portal until just one eye peeked into the chamber.

Chiron stood facing the back of the room. Floating in midair in front of him was a vertical ellipse of brilliant green light, which cast everything else into darkness by contrast so that Gordie couldn’t see anything but the silhouette of the centaur and this glowing portal. It looked like a portrait as it framed the curly headed Olympian with a laurel wreath crowning his bouncy hair. He probably would have seen Gordie if he hadn’t been pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut and chin tucked, his head swaying back and forth. If he hadn’t just been threatening both Chiron and himself, Gordie would have felt bad for the god; he just looked so worn.

Gordie pulled his head back, not wanting to press his luck anymore, but he sat and listened with bated breath.

“Chiron, please, do not be a fool. I can help you.”

“Strange way to offer help: threatening and insulting. What I do, I do for the good of the world. You need not concern yourself with it. We are done here.”

The green light extinguished and Gordie heard Chiron’s hooves on the stone as he began to turn towards the door.

Gordie shot to his feet and sprinted down the hall, running on the balls of his feet to keep as quiet as possible. He worried that he was going to face-plant, moving so unstably, but he kept up the race with his heart pounding, fearing Chiron’s reaction if he caught him above all else. The robe flapped in his haste and he lamented not changing back into his clothes as they would have been much more comfortable to maneuver in. Following the winding hallway, he raced past the fork that led to the eucalyptus pool and continued running until he could hear his mom and grandpa chatting in the Great Hall.

He stopped just before the corridor turned to open upon the large common area. He doubled over, sucking in air because he didn’t want any questions about why he was so out of breath. After he caught his breath, he walked around the bend and out into the light of the Great Hall.

“Hey Gordo! Nice robe, buddy. Just another day at the spa, eh?” Atalo elbowed his grandson as he took a seat next to him.

“How are you feeling? I see the sling is gone,” Ellie said.

“Pretty good actually.” Gordie rotated his arm and winced as pain shot through his shoulder again. It wasn’t as severe as the pain had been that morning, but it was not as comfortable as it had been in the pool.

“It doesn’t look better,” Ellie noted.

“It was in the pool. Chiron’s got this awesome natural hot tub with eucalyptus leaves and stuff. You guys gotta check it out.” Gordie set his chin on the table.

“I didn’t know this resort had a pool,” Atalo chuckled.

“What else is bothering you?” Ellie scrutinized her son.

“What? Nothing,” Gordie responded a little too quickly, and he knew she knew it, but she dropped the subject. “So, what have you guys been doing?”

“A whole lot o’ nothin’, Gordo. You’ve been runnin’ around fighting werewolves, and I’ve been sittin’ here munchin’ on nuts and knockin’ back this hearty brew.” Atalo slapped the mug in his hand. “I’m certainly not complaining about that part, though.” He took a long draught from the mug and smacked his lips.

“Maybe you’ve had enough of that, Dad.” Ellie swiped the mug from her father before taking a swig herself.

“Hypocrite,” he muttered. “Hey Gordo, I was thinkin’ maybe me and your mom can go with you when you head back to this Dasos place. I sure would like to check it out.” He looked at his grandson hopefully as Ellie watched in silence.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Grandpa.” Atalo looked crestfallen. “I’m not even sure it’s possible, actually.” Gordie tried to relay what Chiron had told him about the different planes when they were in the pool, and how Hermes had locked the borders between realms, but he wasn’t sure he had explained it quite right.

“That is more or less how it works.” Gordie jumped as Chiron spoke over his shoulder; he hadn’t heard the clip-clop warning of the centaur’s arrival. Gordie didn’t look directly at him for fear that he would give away his spying with a nervous glance or tick, but Chiron didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.

“So, if the gods aren’t on our plane,” Ellie looked from Chiron to her son, “then we won’t be able to go with Gordie to complete any of these tasks.”

Atalo looked at Chiron with wide-eyes.

“That is correct. I am sorry. I do not know what you were expecting but, regardless of whether or not you could accompany him, I do not believe you should. These tasks should be completed by him and him alone, for a number of reasons.”

“Idealized discipline and a conquering spirit aside, he is still a child,” Ellie said. “He was almost killed on a fruit-picking expedition.”

“Which is why he will continue to train with me extensively before attempting any trial the gods have to offer. But you would do well to give your son some credit—he faced a fully grown lycanthrope and lived despite the absence of his power. Few humans could do that.”

Gordie’s jaw dropped open and he stared at Chiron, unsure of whether he appreciated the defense or was outraged by the hypocrisy. Ellie was looking at Chiron in much the same way.

“But I was going to meet Hephaestus,” Atalo interrupted in little more than a whisper. “My father did and I always thought I would get to, one day.” Gordie looked at his grandpa and for the first time saw him as somebody’s son. It made him uncomfortable.

“I am truly sorry, Atalo, but I find it implausible that your father ever met him to begin with,” Chiron said with a soft expression.

“But the bat—it’s Hercules’s club! How else could he have gotten it?”

“I cannot say.” Chiron knelt to pick up the bat, which was lying on the table. He turned it over in his hands, caressing it with his massive fingers. Then without warning, he slammed it on the table, causing all parties to jump and cry in alarm. The table cracked, but the bat remained unharmed as Chiron lifted it to his face to inspect it again. “Remarkable,” he whispered.

“See?” Atalo said. “It’s his!”

“I do not doubt it. And what’s more, I believe we can prove that this club has been altered by Hephaestus.” Chiron walked over to the great fireplace and dropped the bat in the flames.

“What the hell are you doing?” Gordie and his grandfather cried in unison.

Chiron ignored their shouts, grabbing a tongs and leisurely turning the bat in the embers, before pulling it out of the fire and setting it on the table. Gordie, Atalo, and Ellie leaned over to inspect it. Emblazoned on the bat were Greek letters:

‘Hφαιστος

“Do you know what that reads?” Chiron asked Gordie.

“If I had to guess I’d say Hephaestus.” Gordie shrugged.

“Very good.” He pointed at each letter as he spoke. “Eta, phi, alpha, iota, sigma, tau, omicron, sigma.”

“Is that where Tolkien got the idea?” Ellie snorted to herself and covered her mouth when she realized no one else was laughing.

“As a matter of fact, it was.” Chiron nodded with a smile. “He was a very fine author.” Ellie looked at him with her mouth hanging open again.

“You said sigma twice, but those two letters don’t look the same,” Gordie interjected.

“Sigma has two lower case forms. That second one is used at the end of words.” Atalo was the one who clarified this. Chiron looked at him with approval.

“Well done, Atalo. Do you know the Greek language?”

“I know the alphabet and I probably remember enough to get around a city.” He shrugged.

“There is a port city less than thirty kilometers from here. I would be delighted to take you and your daughter if you ever wish to go.”

“I think we might just take you up on that!”

“Very well, and feel free to peruse my library—you will find some very interesting literature there indeed. Elena, it would be my pleasure to translate anything for you, if you wish.” He smiled at her.

“Thank you very much, Chiron.”

Gordie thought it was a wise move for Chiron to be buttering up his mom and grandpa after the disappointing news that they could not join him on any tasks.

“Do you think I could go into the city?” Gordie asked, noticing he had been left out of the invitation. Chiron’s eyebrows met in the middle as he looked between his three guests.

“Potentially.” He unlocked his clasped hands and made a slight offer of gesture like a politician. “But first we must focus on your training. In two days you will be returning to Dasos as discussed, and after that we will begin work on combat.”

“Cool!” Gordie and Atalo shouted while Ellie shook her head and muttered under her breath.

Gordie could have sworn he heard “Idiots.”

***

That night they dined on salad with fresh fruits (not including dates or figs) and every nut Gordie had ever heard of, and some he hadn’t. Over the crackle of the flames Chiron regaled them with tales of the legendary heroes and their ilk, but these were not tales passed down through generations—these were anecdotes of their idiocy and debauchery: the time Hercules got drunk with a group of rowdy satyrs and woke up in the middle of the Sahara; or how Ajax lost a bet to Achilles and had to fight the Trojan War wearing a string of pearls and a toga; or the time Perseus tried to use Medusa’s head to petrify Dionysus because he felt he was a drunken fool, a transgression for which Dionysus had drowned him in a vat of wine.

Gordie and Atalo explained modern sports to Chiron who was fascinated to hear about the Olympics, and was tickled to hear about supposed world records.

“Heracles could throw a javelin from Sparta to Troy!” he said with a laugh when Atalo told him he held a Wisconsin state high school record. Atalo grumbled and took a long draught from his mug.

They laughed into the night until Atalo fell out of his chair. Chiron led the stumbling old man to his chamber as Gordie and Ellie navigated the corridor they had emerged out of together the day before. Ellie led the way as she had visited Gordie’s room numerous times while he was unconscious after his expedition to the Underworld.

“Isn’t this it?” he asked, as they walked past what he thought was his room.

“Yes, but you’re brushing your teeth first,” Ellie demanded while Gordie snorted. “I don’t care how many werewolves you fight—if you get a cavity,
I
will kill you.” Unable to hold it in any longer, he burst into laughter, and his mother did too.

“So where’s the bathroom?” Gordie asked, as his giggles died away. “I mean, there can’t be running water.”

“No, but there’s a fountain in my room.”

When they arrived in Ellie’s room there was a little stone basin with a drain and a steady stream of water falling into it from a hole in the wall. They brushed through more giggles, and Ellie kissed her son on the forehead before he walked back to his adjacent room.

When Gordie entered his room, he looked at the small wooden bed and the chair in the corner, still draped in the blanket his mother had lain under while waiting for him to wake from his coma, and he thought back to Chiron’s room. Despite the impermanence of this room, it was still homier than the starkness of the centaur’s. He felt another twinge of pity. As he climbed into bed, he remembered the other eye-opening experience he had had in Chiron’s corridor, and he turned over Apollo’s words in his mind.

“
I know of the boy and I know his weakness. Do not force me to take matters into my own hands,
” he had threatened Chiron. What was his weakness? Gordie figured his mother and grandfather were safe here with Chiron and concluded that Apollo must have been referring to his powerless days. Maybe that was why Chiron was hesitant to let him go to the city: because he would be out of his safekeeping—although Gordie thought that Dasos was sufficiently unsafe. He wondered if Chiron would follow him there again, as he had done on his first trip, and he figured he would, especially now. He also wondered what means Chiron had used to get there and smiled as he pictured Pompeia dragging the centaur through the river by a hoof.

Gordie drifted to sleep and dreamt of the naiad and Bridget, of Apollo’s disembodied head floating in a murky green light, and of the werewolf’s body being dragged away by some blurred image of a person.