Read Prophecy of the Most Beautiful Online

Authors: Diantha Jones

Tags: #teen, #Fantasy, #Young Adult, #greek mythology, #mythology

Prophecy of the Most Beautiful (36 page)

BOOK: Prophecy of the Most Beautiful
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Strafford stopped her when she tried to follow them. "Why did you ask him for help?"

How did he know?

She tried her best to pull away from him, but he wasn't letting go of her arm. "It's cold," She snapped, "and it's
snowing
! We were freezing to death out there!"

"
Bah!
" Strafford grunted, releasing her, "They're demigods! They weren' gonna freeze to death, Red!"

That ticked her off. "I'm not a demigod! Dropper isn't a demigod!"

"So it's abou'
tha
' wanker, eh?"

"Jealous, much? And what's your problem anyway? You can't expect everyone else to hate your dad just because
you
do!"

He groaned and pulled her by the back pocket of her jeans as she tried to storm away. "This isn't abou' me and Apollo, Red. This is abou'
you
makin' decisions without askin'
me
first."

"I don't have to ask you for permission to do
anything
!" She tried to walk away but he yanked her back, this time cupping her bottom with his hand to keep her in place. If she hadn't been so flustered, she might've slapped him, but…

"You
do
need my permission, Red," he said, his face close to hers, "And if you'd consulted with me before you decided to ask a favor from a god without a tribute, I would've told you how stupid of an idea tha' was. Gods don't do
anythin
' without expectin' somethin' in return," He let his voice drop a level, "And now you're in a god's debt. And believe me, Red, Apollo
will
collect on it, and you'll be questionin' whether the favor was worth it when it's time to pay up."

His words sunk in like a rock to the bottom of the ocean. It sounded like she had royally messed up this time. But what other option did she have? She hadn't been thinking of just herself when she'd summoned Apollo, but all of them and their survival. She felt responsible for their well-being in some way, even though they were the ones protecting her. Why should Apollo make her pay for helping them to stay alive? Isn't that what he wanted, them
alive
?

She would not even entertain the alternative.

The others didn't seem worried about the ramifications of being granted a favor from a god. They weren't sun children and no matter what Strafford said, she
knew
they had been freezing their butts off. They burst through the door of the little cabin and shouts of relief and excitement filled the air. When she arrived at the cabin's entrance, she understood why.

The cabin could have easily been a part of a five star ski resort. It was cozy and homely and a toasty fire was already ablaze in the cobblestone fireplace warming every inch of the hardwood refuge. There was a dedicated living space with leather couches covered in furs and a dining area with a long mahogany table and a bench on each side. There were stairs leading up to beds and repose, and the kitchen nook had stainless steel appliances and a refrigerator stocked full of food. It was raided as soon as it was discovered and Swindle chattered away about the giant feast he was now planning for dinner while grabbing several packs of beef jerky sticks for Bill.

There was a bookcase full of books for them to enjoy and paper, ink, and old-fashioned feather pens if they needed to write, paints and brushes if they felt the artistic itch. There was a cabinet full of medical supplies and a small armory of weapons behind a painting on the wall. Ace brought Strafford a bad-ass electric guitar he had found leaning against a statue of Apollo. Strafford admired it for a moment, then took it, picked out a few notes, stopped abruptly, handed it back, then walked away. Ace looked disappointed that his brother hadn't kept on playing and Chloe became convinced that Strafford was some kind of secret musical master.

The most surprising thing was the three-sided directory sitting in the middle of the cabin like it was located in a shopping mall. On one side was a map of Mount Ida and the nymph valley surrounding it. A little man-shaped sticker holding a sword was stuck over a cabin with "You Are Here" written beside it.

"Real funny, Da," Ace mumbled.

"What’s
this
?" Chloe had moved around to another part of the directory.

The picture was of a ruin––three crumbling columns with chipped rocks and eroded boulders scattered around them. She could see where other columns had once stood on the huge circular base that the three remaining columns still stood on. In the center, was a sort of partly constructed altar or maybe even a chair of some kind. Maybe a stool.

At the top of the picture it read:
The Past. The Present. The Future.

And at the bottom it said:
It all ends here.

"What does that mean? What is this?"

"This," replied Strafford, "is the ruin of the
Temple of Apollo
in Delphi, your site. And tha' there," he pointed at the pile of rocks she thought resembled a chair, "is the
Delphic Tripod
. It's the greatest source of your power."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you're ever able to prophesy using the Tripod, then you'll be the greatest Oracle to ever live."

"She's already that," Swindle mumbled, looking very intrigued by the picture.

"Maybe," Strafford shot back, seeming put off by the idea, "But it'll be incontestable if her mind is strong enough to power it. There hasn't been an Oracle tha' could for centuries. If it turns out tha' you can, well…let's jus' hope tha' you can't."

"Why?" She was becoming more confused by the second. "What's so special about it?"

Strafford half-smiled, but he wasn't happy. "It's the only way you can look into the future of a god."

"I believe you all should have a look at this," Dropper called around to them from the other side of the directory. They migrated over to where he was with her still pondering what Strafford had just said.

Behind the fiberglass of the third side of the directory were newspapers––like the thick scroll Swindle had shown them in Corinth,
The Enlightener
. They were placed one beside the other in a sort of kid's art project type of manner and were written in Greek. The only thing she was able to make out on this part of the directory was
"Enlighten Yourself"
written in English at the very top of the directory.

Strafford and Swindle took turns translating the headlines for her:

"Hydra dragon attacks are up 40 percent."

"A Hephaestus forge explodes killing dozens."

"Plato's Academy Philosopher still missing––-The twice eclipsed moon long search continues."

"Lord Apollo moves up date of major Earth tour."
Strafford rolled his eyes at that one.

"
Infamous Nicolai the Ker accused of several murders––still at large.
" Chloe's heart skipped a beat when she heard that. Nicolai hadn't caught back up with her yet, but she wasn't stupid enough to think he had just given up.

“Look at this.” Dropper pointed.


The Regalis Stella in PERIL––Constellations disappearing without a trace.

There was a brief silence, and she realized why back in Adel, she hadn’t been seeing very many stars at night.

“Could this mean the bloody
Zodiacs
have gotten loose?” Ace asked.

The Zodiacs?
She thought.
As in, the
twelve
Zodiacs?

“Would explain the Scorpion in Corinth,” Swindle said, “My father seemed surprised to hear we’d seen it.”

“What’s so important about the
Zodiacs?
” She questioned.

Swindle leaned against the directory. “To the gods, they represent the passage of time. Without them, time may stand still, and for them, that’s bad. For all of us, that’s bad.”

“Why?”

“Because if time doesn’t move forward, then Chaos will do whatever he has to, to get the ball rolling again.”

“Chaos?”

“Yeah, the entity that created
Myth
.”

She could guess the rest. “So Chaos would become Mr. Construction. He’d demolish the heavens of
Myth
and build new ones on top of it.”

“Bingo.”

“That sucks.”

“Know wha’ else sucks,
if
the Scorpion we fought
is
the
Zodiac,
tha’ means Orion is back,” Strafford said.

She blanched. “As in,
the
Orion? Like the constellation?”

“Yup. He was killed by the Scorpion and they were set in the
Regalis Stella
together. They’re connected. If the Scorpion fell, so did he, I bet.” And based on his expression, this was bad news as well.

“Why are they falling?” Dropper asked her. “If it is true what I am, it is vital that we find out. I want to know what has happened to me.”

She agreed, but she had no clue how to go about doing this and it was frustrating the crap out of her.

Continuing to discuss the
Zodiacs
, the demigods moved their conversation to the sitting area. Dropper, intrigued, joined them but Chloe stayed back and studied the picture of the Temple of Apollo, looking for answers.

She felt a connection to this Tripod, like she was staring at the answer. The answer to
what
though? She didn't know, but the pull was strong. The Tripod was the key, it would be the difference between victory and defeat, this she was sure of. The key to
what
though? It was all rather exasperating, this feeling that she should know more than she did. She had heaps of knowledge piled upon heaps of knowledge in her head. The Fates had gotten all cozy and residential in her subconscious and still she felt like it all meant nothing. None of it was making sense right now.

Hours later during dinner, with her frustrations threatening to blow the roof off of their cozy cabin, Chloe threw down her spoon, pushed away her bowl of Swindle's delectable lamb stew and exclaimed, "You guys had better tell me everything you know about me and this prophecy, the
truth
, before I scream!" She crossed her arms and looked around to see whose mouth was forming a reply.

Strafford calmly looked up from his porterhouse steak. "For a non-royal, you sure do issue a helluva lot of bloody orders." She just glared at him. He chuckled and gestured at Ace. "She's all yours."

It was clear Ace was honored to have the privilege. He immediately stopped eating his roast beef and broccoli au gratin, took a drink and began. "Two thousand years ago," he said, seeming to already be aware of what she wanted to know, "during a solstice tribunal of the gods, a great prophecy was made tha' was so complex and cryptic, even my Da couldn't figure out wha' it meant."

She was shocked. "Really? How could that be?" How could a prophetic god not be able to decipher his own sooth-saying?

It was like Ace had read her mind. "'Cause my Da didn't prophesy it. The
Fates
did."

Her mouth formed an "O". "What did it say?" She asked.

Ace shrugged. "The gods still don't know anything abou' it and neither do we. Well…I take tha' back…we do know
one
thing."

Her eyes narrowed. "What?" Her fingernails were cutting into her palms they were balled so tight. But she didn't know if it was out of terror or excitement.

Ace was staring at Strafford, asking his permission with his eyes. "Ah, bloody tell her," Strafford said, "'Bout time she learned jus' wha' she's been dragged into."

"Yes, bloody tell me," She snapped, though not meaning to. She saw the corners of Strafford's lips turn up as he chewed on a bite of steak.

"Well," said Ace, after a swig of his drink, "they know the prophecy is abou'
you
."

"
Me
?"

Oh man, do you guys have some serious explaining to do…

Of course, the Fates said nothing in response, but she hadn't expected them to.

"Aye. And the Fates left no doubt 'cause they prophesied abou' you by
name
."

She gasped. "Chloe?"

"Nah. Pythia. The prophecy is abou' the Oracle Pythia. It's the only thing the gods are sure abou'."

Things were starting to make sense now. "So
that's
why I'm being blamed for the trouble on Olympus."

He nodded. "Yup. You're the subject of the only prophecy ever manifested by the Fates for the Olympians. Tha's serious business, wan."

"But how does anyone know that this prophecy even exists?" Dropper questioned.

"And what makes them think
I'm
the Oracle this so-called prophecy that no one besides the gods has ever heard, talks about?" She said behind him.

"The day in the library," Strafford spoke up, putting down his fork and steak knife, "when you swore the oath to the Oracle's Dictum, your blood revealed your fate right then. As you should know, it was already decided. You are the Pythia of the prophecy and there's no way around it." He glared at Dropper. "And the bloody prophecy exists." Dropper just shrugged.

"Strafford's right," Swindle concurred, "There has to be a prophecy and I think
this
prophecy is in
direct
connection with it. There is something about the Great Unknown that rattles the gods enough to joggle stars out of the sky. And if the Olympians are shaken up about it, then we should probably be too."

They didn’t have to worry about that. She was.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*****

 

 

 

 

 

 

XXVI. Chloe

That night, Strafford kept watch instead of sleeping and that pissed her off. She had been looking forward to having another flirt-and-blush session with him.

Oh. Well.

Besides, she could fool herself, but couldn't fool her body into thinking it wasn't exhausted. After a long, hot shower in their fancy bathroom, she had dropped into bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, sleep claimed her. And so did the dream.

BOOK: Prophecy of the Most Beautiful
13.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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