The Heir of Olympus and the Forest Realm (34 page)

Rising from the bottom of his feet up his body, he felt a tingling. It rose steadily to a pulse, and he looked up to see that the nereid had stopped and remained hovering above the water, facing the deep. The pulse beat like a drum, every third beat twice as strong:
dum-dum-DUM, dum-dum-DUM!

Gordie’s own pulse began to quicken. He could hear the drums inside his head.
Feel
the drums inside his head. The waves ceased around him, no more ebb and flow, but the water began to ripple. Then, slow but strong, a voice replaced the beating drums.

“Take him,” the voice said, and like the nereid’s, it seemed to come from the water itself, but also from within Gordie’s own head. This voice was deep as a well, as deep as a bass drum, as deep as thunder, as deep as the vacuous space between sound waves. It was not a shout but a sonorous whisper, as gentle as it was powerful. The nereid stood on the water, frozen and tense, and did not respond. “Take him,” the whisper rumbled again.

“No.” The one word response came from the floating form of the nereid, strong and defiant with no hint of trepidation. Gordie couldn’t help but admire her courage. If that voice had told him to do something, he would hop to with an immediate, ‘Sir, yes sir!’

“Thetis, this is imperative,” the voice persisted, but not angrily. “Put aside your pride.” Gordie knew the name Thetis, but couldn’t place it.

“He does not deserve my help,” she responded in a sharp tone that stung Gordie. She didn’t yell or shout—she just said it with the utmost disdain.

“The two are not the same. He has not proven himself unworthy. Help him.” Then the voice cut out like a PA system, taking with it the persistent hum that had drowned all other noise during its speech. The air around Gordie returned to normal, its temporarily increased density dissipated. He heard the cry of the gulls again and slow roar of the waves. The nereid before him bobbed up and down atop the waves, facing out to sea, not stirring. He waited with mounting apprehension.

She turned slowly, gracefully, completely inhumanly, spinning atop the water without moving her legs until she faced him. She drifted over to him, her eyes still narrowed. Gordie swallowed hard. She loomed over him and scrutinized him. He remained silent.

“Hold out your arm.” When she spoke this time the voice did not emanate from everywhere, just from her lips. Her tone was still cold, but her eyes no longer showed scenes of maritime storms: they were the swirling indigo that had crashed inside her body before—now only the aquamarine of the water beneath Gordie tumbled lazily inside her form. He did as he was told and held out the left, knowing exactly to which arm she was referring. She turned his palm over and held the back of his hand in one of hers while running the fingers of her other fluid hand over the surface of his forearm. Gordie blushed and butterflies filled his stomach—or maybe they were sea horses.

“Styx,” she said, as she looked down at it. “How did you harness it?” She looked him in the eyes, and he noted that her features had softened. In fact, she now looked sad.

“At first I
couldn’t
control it.” Gordie’s discomfort had transformed to sympathy, although he didn’t know why she was so unhappy. “Chiron taught me how to focus it.”

She nodded solemnly. “My son always did lack discipline.” A wave licked Gordie’s knees as she sighed. She returned to inspecting his hand again, almost longingly. Gordie then remembered why he knew the name Thetis.

“You’re Achilles’s mom,” he said, and she looked back into his eyes. “I’m sorry. For your loss,” he said. He wasn’t sure if this was necessary since it had been millennia since Achilles fell to Paris at Troy, but it seemed like the right thing to say. Thetis remained silent as she regarded him. Her eyes rolled over his face. Gordie began to feel uncomfortable again until she spoke.

“Maybe you are not like him,” she said, and her cheeks rose in a soft smile. It was beautiful, but it did not reach her eyes.

“Not like who?”

“Your brutish ancestor.” She placed his hand back at his side. Gordie heard a hint of pain in her mention of Hercules, and wondered if something had occurred between the two of them. “Tell me, what is your business in Delphi?”

“Erm . . .” Gordie wasn’t sure if he should share too much information, but then he appraised her as she had him, and decided she was trustworthy. “Apollo kidnapped . . . my friend.” He looked away, blushing.

“Ah, young love.” He jerked his head up to look at her, and meant to give her a scathing look of defiance, but he was softened by her smile. He did not deny the allegation. She held out her hand. “Shall we?”

“Sure.” He smiled and grasped her hand.

“This may be unpleasant,” she said. His grin broadened.

“I can handle it.” He winked at her and laughed as she recoiled. For an instant she reminded him of his mother.

“If you insist.” She smirked and gave no further warning as she dragged him into the surf.

Gordie spluttered as he bounced atop the waves like a speedboat. His face and eyes stung as they slapped the salty water. They occasionally dipped below the surface into the other world that is the sea. Schools of fish exploded as they tore through them. Jellyfish blinked in and out of view. Gordie had a minor panic attack as he glimpsed a shark knifing upwards towards him, but seconds later, the shark was nowhere to be seen. In and out of the water they went. The nereid never held him under long enough to affect his breathing for which he was grateful, but he started to grow weary of their breakneck pace. And then they stopped.

Gordie lay on his back in shallow water that lapped at him as he stared into the blue sky. He heard the familiar sounds of the shore as well as those of the city. He sat up and looked into the coursing legs of his carrier. He put a hand in the soft sand and pushed himself to his feet. A shower of water fell off him and splashed back into the tide. A steady dripping sound played beneath him as his soaking clothes discharged their moisture. He looked up at the nereid and felt awkward again.

“Well, thank you very much.” He cocked his head and rubbed the back of his neck.

“You are very welcome. The temple you seek is northeast of here—not far.” Thetis pointed over his shoulder, and he turned to look in that direction. Directly behind him a small city bustled with buildings pressed right up to the coast. Mountains rose away from it in every direction. Gordie turned back to her.

“What temple?” he asked.

She raised a watery eyebrow. “The Temple of Apollo, of course.”

“Oh, right. That makes sense.” He shuffled his bare feet in the water, and realized, with a twinge of annoyance, that he had left his shoes on the beach near Volos.

“This is where we part. Safe travels, young man.” She smiled and turned back toward open water.

“It’s Gordie,” he called after her. “And I’m sorry if I offended you before.”

Thetis turned and looked over her shoulder. “No apology necessary, Gordie. Good luck.” And with that she drifted out to sea, sinking back into the water until she was out of sight. For a minute Gordie stared at the spot where her glimmering head dipped into the water. He turned toward the beach and stepped out of the sea.

The sand was warm on his wet feet and it clung to his soles. To his right a marina extended out into the open water.  It was far enough away that the people milling around on it were the size of ants, so Gordie didn’t worry about being discovered. The beach was not very large and had no apparent street access—it was deserted. A small copse of trees butted up against the beach, and he made for them.

As he breeched the foliage, he found a road on the other side. The traffic was steady, but not busy. He walked through bristly grass until he reached the sidewalk a hundred feet from the tree line. Across the boulevard a number of red-roofed houses sprawled along the street forming a tightknit development. He looked left up the street and then right. To the left, the architecture grew sparse; he could see a highway in the near distance stretching out of the city. To the right, the buildings grew closer together and the traffic, both vehicular and pedestrian, became thicker as well. He headed inward.

Smudgy footprints followed him to a nearby side-street as the wet sand fluffed off the soles of his feet. This street did not cross the broad thoroughfare he walked along, but originated here like a delta, and curled off back toward the coast line. Most notable about this lane was a grand hotel on the corner, pearly white and stretching up toward the sky, like a fallen cloud trying to return to the heavens.

Each floor was wrapped in balconies except for the ground floor, which had great bay windows every few feet, each replete with their own green awning. Gordie could see that the front entrance was on the main road, so he crossed the side-street and approached the tetrastyle façade: four columns holding up a gleaming pediment adorned with four metallic stars. Three-dimensional, pseudo-Greek letters floated above the pediment reading, “ITEA PALACE.” Gordie imagined these lit up at night and thought the effect would be spectacular.

“Good morning, Mr. No-Shoes! Welcome to Itea Palace!”

Gordie started as an olive-skinned young man greeted him from the great gold-plated revolving door. He had been so immersed in the brilliance of the hotel that he hadn’t even noticed the bellhop’s presence until he had hailed him as ‘
Meester
No-Shoes.’ Now that he did notice the doorman, he took in his robin’s-egg-blue, gold-buttoned uniform with matching hat. But his most noticeable accessory was an ear-to-ear grin, which Gordie imagined must have gotten him the job on the spot.

“Uh, good morning.” Gordie did a half wave, feeling very out of place in his soppy attire. “You couldn’t give me directions to Delphi, could you?”

“To Delphi?” The door man hopped off the marble steps and clapped Gordie on the shoulder. “Why would you want to go there? The beach is the place to be, no? All the pretty ladies.” He nudged Gordie with his elbow and winked. Gordie chuckled.

“Actually, I really have to get to Delphi. I . . .” He tried to come up with a plausible story, thinking that he might wind up in a psych ward if he told the truth. “I lost my family, and they’re staying around there.”

The doorman’s eyebrows disappeared into his hat.

“You lost your family?! We must get you a taxi!” He looked around the corner and waved before giving an earsplitting whistle. Gordie wheeled around to see a line of white and green taxis waiting on the side-street.

“No, No! I don’t have any money! If you could just give me directions—”

“Don’t be silly!”
Seal-y
. “It is fifteen kilometers. Uphill! You cannot walk there. I will pay for your ride.” He smiled his winning smile.

“No! I can’t accept that! It’s okay, really, I can—”

“No, it is out of the question.” The bellhop closed his eyes and drew a line through the air. He opened his great brown eyes, and the feigned sternness melted into his beaming smile. The cab rolled up and he walked to the window. He exchanged a few words in Greek with the driver, whom Gordie saw wore a woolly beard and appeared far less jovial than this young man. The driver looked at Gordie and started talking heatedly, gesturing towards him. Gordie looked down and guessed that it was his state of inundation that the driver wasn’t thrilled about. The doorman seemed to appease the driver before handing him a few paper notes, then pulled open the back door and held his hand in an
entré
gesture as he waited for Gordie to climb in.

Gordie looked at the back seat of the cab and up into the smiling face of the doorman, and was rendered speechless by this young man’s generosity. He walked to the door and placed his hand on its frame.

“Thank you so much. I promise I’ll pay you back,” Gordie said, looking up at the bellhop.

“Not necessary, my friend!” He smiled. “Just go find your family. And you come right back here if you need any more help. Now off to Apollo’s Temple!” Gordie nearly jumped as he looked at him with alarm. The doorman’s smile never faded, so Gordie eventually decided there was no meaning in this goodbye. He climbed into the back seat as his heart rate slowed, muttering a few more words of thanks, before the driver took off.

The driver pulled a risky U-turn in the middle of the street before heading back the way Gordie had come. They passed the houses he had noted as he came onto the street, and soon were out of the developed city. The driver scowled at his passenger in the rearview mirror from time to time, without ever saying anything as they raced over the rising terrain. Gordie stared out the window as tree covered mountains sprang into existence.

Up and up they drove until the city behind them grew to a large red blur. The morning sun up here was swallowed by a gray mist that seeped through the trees and coated the mountains. After ten minutes the car pulled off the highway and navigated a few small roads lined with hikers before coming to a halt in the parking lot of the Delphi Archaeological Museum. People milled around the front of the building and Gordie gulped: he was very near his destination.

“Here,” the driver grunted.

“Thanks,” Gordie muttered as he stepped out a second before the car whipped around and sped off in the direction of the highway. Gordie looked at the mortared building in front of him with its varied levels and terraces, then looked up the road where groups of walkers were heading uphill past signs reading, “Delphi Acropolis.” His heart leapt into his throat and he took a deep breath before falling in line.