Love or Fate (9 page)

A
pollo
just needed to reach the gates of Tartarus to get Cerberus’s slobber. But
that
was easier said than done because he was lost in the maze of corridors that made up the underworld.

He asked everyone he passed, be they animal or human or beast. He even asked the walls and doors and rocks, hoping that they, too, could talk. But most creatures simply ignored Apollo or refused to help.

One old woman acknowledged him long enough to laugh and point at his tight pants. “They are football pants,” he yelled at her. “And very fine ones at that!”

After much exasperation and desperation (how would he find his way back to the Secret Society
Witch Tart, anyway?), Apollo saw a man hanging from his knees off the limb of a tree that grew beside a small pond. As he got closer, he realized he knew this man, for he was Tantalus, king of Sipylos. Apollo was overjoyed to see someone he knew. That is, until he realized what that must mean.

“Tantalus, Tantalus, is that you? Are you really stuck here in Hades?”

“Yes, it is I. And, pray tell, who are you?”

“It’s Apollo, sir!”

“I think not. You look nothing like him.” Tantalus was swinging back and forth, swiping at an apple that was just beyond his fingertips. “Do you think you could help me grab that apple? You see, I’m attached to this tree here—at the knees, for all eternity—and that apple is just out of my reach.”

Apollo effortlessly nabbed the apple off the tree, but as he handed it to Tantalus, it slipped from his grip and fell into a puddle at his feet. When Apollo bent over to pick it up, the apple sank deep down, far deeper than he would have thought such a small puddle could go.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Look, another is right there, just out of my reach—do you think you could get that one?”

“Right, um, okay.” Apollo plucked the second apple from the tree and handed it to Tantalus. This
time Tantalus’s fingers grazed the surface, and he began to drool profusely, but as soon as he formed a grip on the fruit, it, too, fell into the puddle. “Yow!” cried Tantalus. “It’s no use. This is my fate.”

Apollo felt terrible for the old king. “Look, I could try again. There seems to be an apple just behind you.”

“No, it’s no use. So who are you…really?”

“Really, I am Apollo. I’m here, in this modern mortal disguise, trying to save Thalia and her sisters from an eternity in Tartarus.”

“But those who are sent here, they are forbidden to leave. I should know,” said Tantalus.

“Yes, but these girls, they did nothing wrong. Nothing really wrong. Not that you, sir, have done anything wrong.” Apollo cleared his throat nervously.

“Well, I did steal, or rather acquire, a bit of sacred food from a few gods, namely Zeus. Oh, and I divulged a few divine secrets. I regret that, but what am I to do? This is my life now.”

Apollo felt even worse, especially now that he had to change the subject so abruptly. “Tantalus, I don’t suppose you could direct me to the gates of Tartarus? I am in search of Cerberus, the three-headed dog.”

“Why should I help you?” he asked.

“Well, I did attempt to help you with those apples, even though it didn’t work out. And I am really the god Apollo; perhaps I could do something about your situation when I return to Olympus.”

“If you are indeed Apollo, then tell me, who is my son?”

“Why, Pelops, sir.” He couldn’t help tapping his foot.

“Yes, and the gods gave him something. What was that?”

“An arm, sir. An ivory arm. I was there.”

“Apollo! It is you!”

“Yes, sir, now I beg of you, do you know where the gates of Tartarus are, where I can find the three-headed dog, Cerberus?”

“Why, yes, Apollo. Yes. Just turn around.”

“Turn around?”

“Yes, turn around.” Apollo did just that. And there they were, looming in a not so distant field, the ominous black iron gates of the underworld. He could even hear Cerberus’s deep growl from where he stood. Funny, he thought, they hadn’t been there a moment ago. But he didn’t question it. He simply thanked Tantalus and ran toward the gates.

I
could still hear Polly and Era screaming. Polly was yelling for me to swim. Era was just yelling.

And Hera was charging toward me. The ground was shaking with each step she took.

“Come and get me,” I screamed at Hera. She lifted up her hands as if to do something drastic, something with her powers, but then I surprised her. I didn’t turn and run away. I charged her right back.

Hera stopped in her tracks as I ran and then backed up a few steps in surprise.

I pulled to a stop a few feet in front of her with no plan, no clue of what to do next. My only thought was to taunt her, distract her from my sisters and their getaway. But I didn’t know how long I
could do it before she zapped me with her pointed fingernails.

“Hey, Hera, don’t you think you’re a tad underdressed for Tartarus?”

“What?” she asked, glaring directly into my eyes.

“I said, that outfit really doesn’t go with your skin tones. It doesn’t really work with that pale shade of green.”

Hera looked down at herself, then back at me. It was true, her pasty skin had still not lost the tinge of green it had taken on when I’d given her Scyllia disease, accidentally, on the night of the engagement party so long ago. And nothing was more important to Hera than her vanity.

“You little monster!” she screeched, and flung out her hands again, but just as she did so, I crouched, scooping up a huge fistful of sand. And then I flung it right into her face.

Hera’s hands flew up to her eyes, and the steam poured out of her ears. She was now a violent shade of red; it was almost electric. She was mumbling angry gibberish, and wiping the sand from the crevices between her lids, and spitting gobs of it out of her mouth.

Finally she formed the words. “Now you’ve done it! I’ll fix you good! Lions and tigers and bears! Yes, yes, lions and tigers and bears!” She raised her right
hand and pointed her dreaded third finger from the left at me. I tightened up every muscle in my body, preparing for the very worst, shutting my eyes tight.

But then there was a scream, and amazingly it wasn’t mine. I opened my eyes to find Cerberus swatting Hera down with one of his gigantic paws. She hit the dirt hard, and a cloud of dust rose overhead.

“Not me, you idiot!” she yelled at the oversized dog.

Cerberus put one of his three huge wet noses down on the ground, right near Hera’s bottom, and he pushed her several feet with a nudge that was probably meant to be playful but that made Hera howl.

“Not me, I said!” Her fur bikini was now completely covered in dirt. “Thalia, get Thalia!”

A
pollo
had finally reached the gates, but Cerberus was nowhere to be seen. Apollo looked high and low, from corner to corner, but nothing. He was ready to burst with frustration.

Then he heard a scream.

Apollo hurried toward the sound, which had come from beyond the gates. He slammed into one of the bars with a thud and peered through the slats in the direction of the noise.

Thank goddess!
There on the beach was Cerberus. But he was on the outside, and Apollo was on the inside. And he appeared to be busy. In fact, he appeared to be pinning an old woman under one of his paws.

Poor lady,
thought Apollo. Getting a vial of slobber
from a creature that cruel was going to be quite a task.

He continued to stare in horror, wondering what to do next. But imagine his surprise when he then realized that the woman under Cerberus’s paws was none other than Hera the Horrible!

Apollo’s mind raced. “Why would Cerberus have Hera pinned?” He leaned forward for a closer look. He could make out another figure, just a little bit farther down the beach, but Cerberus’s gigantic behind kept moving back and forth, blocking his view. What in Zeus’s name was this all about?

And then his heart stopped.

It was her. He had found her.

“Thalia!” he cried, for he could see now that it was she facing Hera and Cerberus, just a few yards away. “I’m here—I’ll save you!” he yelled, but it didn’t appear that Thalia could hear him over Hera’s bellowing and Cerberus’s barking.

Without another thought, Apollo grabbed the tall gate before him and began to climb it with a vengeance. But as soon as he’d gotten a few feet above the ground, the post he was clinging to lost its shape. Before his very eyes, it morphed into a huge steel dragon with long, sharp talons and even sharper fangs. Apollo let go with a scream and landed flat on his back.

In all his travels, Apollo had never encountered a gate such as this before. It threw him off his game. Immediately, though, he was off the ground and climbing again. This time he chose a different post, but again, as he got closer to the top, the metal in his hands morphed into a rabid monkey, and Apollo fell to the ground once more.

Leaping to his feet, he pressed his face against the gates in desperation. He could actually see Thalia with his own eyes. He focused his gaze upon her. And this time he found himself filled with power, deep with emotion. He was close, so close! He readied himself for any beast, any beast at all, and began to climb the gate one last time.

As he’d expected, the post changed again, this time into a wicked goblin with pointed teeth and the sharpest of fingernails. It grabbed Apollo by the neck and shook him hard. But Apollo just clung tighter. He threw his shoulder into the horrid creature’s stomach and knocked the wind out of it. He then flung his hand toward the goblin’s eyes and scratched fiercely. The goblin screeched and let go, grabbing at its face. Apollo took the moment to use the goblin’s back as leverage and hoisted himself up, then lunged and took a flying leap off the creature’s spiny tail. This jump took Apollo clear over the gate, and he landed on the other side with a giant thud.

Apollo shook his head. And looked around. Then he picked himself up and ran as fast as he could toward Thalia.

A few feet away, Thalia finally seemed to sense his presence. She looked up. And then their eyes met.

Hera let out another dreadful scream, but neither Apollo nor Thalia seemed to hear.

Thalia’s eyes, looking into his own, went from petrified to bewildered and then back to petrified. She didn’t run toward him with open arms, as he had imagined. Instead her bottom lip began to tremble. She looked like she was going to cry. As Apollo reached her and grabbed her hand, she whispered, “Nooo!”

Apollo didn’t know what to do. He had thought all along that Thalia would want to see him,
need
him, in fact.

But she let out another painful cry. “Nooooo!” Apollo froze, the worry and panic and fear and longing welling up in his eyes.

“Thalia…” he whispered meekly. But he didn’t finish. He had no idea what to say.

“W
e’re
alive. We’re still alive,” cried Era.

Polly and Era’s boat had been whipped into a nasty current that had tossed the tiny vessel up and down, into the cold water and then out again. It had then collided with a large pile of rocks just twenty feet from the island, directly across from where Thalia and Hera were having their face-off. The sisters had barely been able to cling to the wreckage and paddle to shore, but here they were. Alive.

They crawled up onto the bank and rolled about in the sand, coughing up slimy Hades river water.

“We’re alive,” cried Era again.

“Where are we?” asked Polly. “Where is Thalia? Can you see her?” Polly got to her hands and knees and spit up some more water bile. She then offered
her hand to Era and pulled her up. “Oh, there’s a dead fish in your hair,” Polly said, tugging the fish out of Era’s snarled curls.

“Look, there she is! Thalia’s still alive!” Era squealed. Then she squinted. “What—does Cerberus have Hera?” asked Era.

“Oh, thank goddess! But Thalia must run—she’s got to try and get away!”

The girls started to yell Thalia’s name, but they were far too distant for her to hear.

Then they heard it. It was like the sound of air being sucked through a vacuum, the kind Polly had tried to use once back in their home in Athens. Only this sounded much bigger, louder, almost…
endless.
“Oh, Zeus,” Era whispered, grabbing Polly’s shoulder and turning her around so she, too, could see.

That black blob they had seen from the opposite shore. It was a gaping hole—swirling around madly, dark as the darkest blackness they’d ever seen. It was clear that this was an exit of some sort. But where did it lead to?

“We have to wait for Thalia,” Era said, but they both knew that without a boat, Thalia had no way to get to them.

Polly trembled and shook. “We can’t leave,” she agreed. “Not until we absolutely have to.”

They both looked down at their timepieces,
watching the little bit of sand remaining trickle way too quickly downward. A few more minutes. Less than five, perhaps.

They turned to watch what was happening on the opposite shore.

D
ylan
was standing before me. It was like a dream come true. Only really it was more like a nightmare because this was Hades, and if Dylan was in Hades, that meant he was…he was…

“Dylan. Are you…you’re dead?”

Dylan looked at me for a second, his eyes wide with confusion. And then, I couldn’t believe it, he actually laughed.

I yanked my hand out of his. This wasn’t funny. This was definitely not funny.

He wiped at his eyes and then, noticing the look on my face, became serious again. “I’m sorry! But you’re upset because you think I’m…I mean, you think Dylan is dead?”

“Well, why else would you be in Tartarus?”

Dylan cleared his throat. And took my hand back into his. And he stared into my eyes in a way that made my toes tingle. “I am not dead, sweet Thalia.”

I sputtered. I could feel myself turning bright red. “Th-then how do you know about Tartarus? You’re a mortal! Why are you here, how are you here?” This was so confusing, so utterly bewildering, I thought I might just pass out. But something about holding Dylan’s hand made me feel comfortable, peaceful, almost. Only for a moment.

One glance at Cerberus and Hera and all that changed. Hera was squirming under one of the dog’s giant paws, trying to get her hands free as she screamed and cursed my name.

“I’ll fill you in on all of the details later,” Dylan said, “but right now, I think we must run for it. Hera won’t be tied up for long.”

And with that he squeezed my hand tight. For just one brief second I thought about the warmth of his palm, and he gave me a sweet, almost shy smile. Then he pulled me quickly toward the shore.

“It’s Polly and Era, look!” We spotted my sisters jumping up and down on the opposite bank of the river. “We have to get to them!”

We looked at the beach around us.

“There!” Dylan said, pointing to a huge pile of
what seemed like junk, a little farther down the shore.

“We’ve got to find something we can use as a boat,” he said once we’d reached it. He started sifting through it.

Yuck.
The smell emanating from the pile made me want to hurl. Clearly we’d stumbled onto Tartarus’s one and only trash heap. The pile oozed with slime and smelly tin cans and rotten fish heads.

“Here!” Before I had so much as sifted through one piece of trash, Dylan yanked a giant billboard out of the pile—like the ones I’d seen along the highway on our road trip. Only this one had a picture of the Furies on it, and it read, “Abandon all hope, ye…” But I didn’t catch the end because Dylan was already dragging it toward the water.

“We’ll use this as a raft to sail across to Polly and Era. Get on!” I climbed on the sign, and Dylan pushed me into the river and then he climbed aboard. Thank goddess, it stayed afloat! As we drifted away, side by side and flat on our stomachs, he put his arm around my waist and I shivered. The feeling was so familiar. It felt so natural and right. It felt just like, just like…being with Apollo.

I pulled away as much as I could. I was confused. What about Apollo? What was Dylan doing here?
If we got out of here alive, what would happen then?

Dylan seemed to sense how weirded out I was. He put his hand on top of mine and said, “I have to tell you something very important. I—”

But just then we heard a horrendous screech. We turned to look over our shoulders.

There was Hera, free from Cerberus’s grip. And the Furies, standing right behind her, Tizzie’s hands grasping a giant leash that now held Cerberus tight.

Hera stood on the water’s edge, her right hand lifted straight up in the air and her eyes closed tight. She was chanting and cackling. And then above us the sky began to roil and howl. Dark clouds came rolling in from every direction, and lightning ripped through the sky. The water was becoming rougher and rougher, tossing our little raft back and forth on giant waves that leaped far above our heads.

“Oh, no,” cried Dylan. “No, we can’t perish this way! You don’t even know the truth!” But before he could say any more, we were engulfed by a wave that came washing down on us.

We both held on tight. And the raft rose once again on the crest of the wave. We spluttered and coughed and tried to get the hair out of our eyes. As soon as we did, another wave came, and we rose and
fell once again. A familiar feeling came over me—that rise and fall, the raft balancing itself on the wave, trying to stay upright. It reminded me of…of…

“I have an idea!” I cried. “Stand up, hurry!”

“Stand up?” he asked.

“Just do it. I’m going to surf us to safety! We’re going to hang twenty!”

“You don’t know how to surf, Thalia!” cried Dylan.

“I’ve seen them do it on TV a million times. I’m
addicted
to those surf shows on ESPN. It’s a lot like skateboarding. We just have to find the center and go with it.”

We fell a couple of times, trying to get our balance. I even went tumbling into the water once, but Dylan grabbed me by the back of my shirt and pulled me back on. Finally, just as a giant wave poured in underneath us, we found our balance and we were off. I masterfully surfed the wild waves, breaking left, then right. I caught a superclean peaky swell and then went big for some straight air.

I could hear my sisters’ faint cheers as I managed the mad conditions. I went off the wall and into a front-side 360. There was a swell from the northwest, and I just blitzed on through.

Dylan wrapped his hands around my waist and held me tight. “You’re brilliant!” he exclaimed.

Then suddenly the waves stopped. The air went still. We fell off balance and both landed with a thud on the board, not quite toppling into the water. Around us the storm raged. It was too dark and wild to see Polly and Era anymore. But somehow
our
little area was perfectly still.

“We’re in the eye of the storm,” Dylan said.

We sat in stunned silence. It was almost, well, beautiful.

“We may not get out of here,” Dylan whispered. He looked deep into my eyes.

For some crazy reason, despite the fact that our lives were seriously in danger, him looking at me like that made me realize how truly horrid I must appear. I’d been slimed and gooed and drowned; I’d cleaned pit stains and popped zits and lanced boils. But then Dylan went on, and I forgot to worry.

“So I have to say this now. I have to confess something.” He leaned in close then. I could feel his breath on my face. This was a dream; we were just floating. And then he whispered, “It’s me, Apollo.”

I nearly fell off the board. Then I nearly
pushed
him off the board. “What do you mean, ‘it’s me, Apollo’?”

“It’s me, Thalia. It’s always been me.”

“That’s ridiculous!” It was. It was crazy. Unbelievable. But even so, I swelled with embarrassment. What did he mean? I could feel my face getting hot despite
the chill of the water. I knew I had to be three shades of pink.

Just then the wind picked up and the waves grew stronger. We were coming out of the eye of the storm with a vengeance. Dylan, I mean Apollo, I mean we climbed back to crouching positions as the waves swelled to fifteen, twenty feet. We could barely hang on. I kicked the nose of the board up in the air and slammed it down on the top of a gigantic wave.

I steered us right and left and we fell down the side of an enormous wave, only to land flat on a smooth swell, just yards from dry land.

And then we were thrown into the water, just inches from each other.

The first thing I heard when I resurfaced was the sound of my sisters cheering. We reunited a few feet from shore—all of us, standing ankle deep in the water. Dylan and I were soaked to the bone.

“Dylan, is that really you?” Era squealed after a tight embrace.

He opened his mouth to reply, but there was no time. Behind us the water was…it was turning solid, right before our eyes. The storm had stopped, and we could see, on the opposite shore, that Hera and the Furies were taking their first tentative steps onto the ice. They had frozen the river, and they were coming for us.

We turned toward the gaping black hole that swirled before us. It was the blob I’d seen from the other side. It was dark and deep and unknowable. It would lead us somewhere, but where? Back to earth? Back home?

There was only one thing we knew. That it would take us out of
here.
And it would take us out together.

“I don’t think we have a choice,” Polly said.

“No,” Era agreed. “We don’t.”

“I love you guys,” I said. I looked at both of my sisters, and for the first time I noticed there was something different about them. Something had changed since we’d left Olympus, what seemed like so long ago. They had a strength about them now, both of them. It reminded me of someone. And after a second I realized who. It reminded me of our mother.

The four of us gathered in a giant hug.

“I think we can only go one at a time,” Era said, clearing her throat and looking down at her timepiece. A few measly grains remained. “So I guess I’ll go first.” We hugged tightly one more time. Era’s eyes were filled with tears. She took a step into the darkness, and then she was gone.

Polly was next. She threw a hurried glance across the water, where Hera and the Furies were now
picking up speed. Then she smiled at me and stepped into the blackness.

Only Dylan and I were left. “You go, Dylan,” I said, giving him a gentle shove toward the hole.

Our eyes met then. His were filled with warmth. They knew me so well.

And I knew it then—Dylan
was
Apollo. I didn’t know how or why, but I knew he’d been telling the truth. In fact, I wondered how I hadn’t seen it before—I could see Apollo underneath his skin, through his eyes. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and I could smell Apollo. I squeezed him tight, so tight, I thought he might disappear, but he squeezed back gently. “Apollo,” I whispered. “I’m so glad.”

He whispered back into my ear, “So you’re not angry with me?”

“No, never, never again. And you’re not angry with me?”

“Never, ever again. You’ll be right behind me?” he asked, gazing for a moment over the water. He smiled at the sight.

Hera had slipped on the ice, and all three Furies, Meg, Alek, and Tizzie, were struggling to pull her back up. Another yank and all three went down with a plop!

We both laughed. “I promise, I’ll be right behind you.”

With one last squeeze of my hand, Apollo disappeared into the blackness of the hole.

And this time I kept my promise. I followed him.