Helen and Troy's Epic Road Quest (23 page)

“Best of luck to you,” mumbled Pollux as he went into the diner.

Troy unfolded their map of destiny and stared at the big black question mark at the end.

Helen came out of the diner, and he quickly shoved the map back in his pocket.

“Was that the oracle?” she asked.

Troy nodded.

“Well…?” She paused, waiting for Troy to fill in the blank, but he didn't reply.

“Troy…”

“Nothing's wrong, Hel. He said we should keep on the road we're on.”

He smiled. It was boyish and charming. It would've fooled anyone else, but Helen knew him better than that.

“What's wrong?” she asked. “What did he tell you?”

“Nothing. He told me nothing. We should get going. Should check on Achilles before he pees on my seats.”

He walked away.

She glanced through the diner's dirty windows at Pollux, sitting at a booth. He noticed her looking at him and hid his face behind a menu.

Oracles hadn't been much help on this quest so far. She didn't give a damn about the future or the cryptic clues Pollux was sure to give her. She chalked up Troy's strange behavior to her rejection of him, and it wasn't surprising. The poor guy had probably never been turned down before. He'd get over it.

She hoped this stupid quest would be over with soon. The dragons and the monsters she could live with. She was even sort of enjoying them. But another week in the Chimera with Troy, and she might be tempted to say yes to his idiotic proposal. That scared the hell out of her, more than any cyclops or immortal witch ever could.

They hadn't gotten any sleep at the Mystery Cottage, and with the adrenaline wearing off and a lot on their minds, the road seemed long and dark and lonely. They found a motel. It wasn't a weird motel staffed by monsters. There were no legendary beasts in its parking lot. The most unusual thing about it was a fat guy enjoying a few midnight laps in the swimming pool, and that was more unsettling than otherwordly.

They got separate rooms. The clerk apologized because he couldn't put them beside each other, but Helen decided it was better that way. The more distance the better, and while it was only a matter of a few dozen extra feet, it all added up.

“See you in the morning, Hel,” said Troy.

“Uh-huh.”

She wished he'd never brought that date up. She'd been thinking it too, but she'd had the sense to leave it unspoken. That way they could've pretended they were just friends. Now the notion that they could be something more stood between them like a malicious spirit, grabbing their words and twisting them with all manner of horrible subtext and awkward implications.

She closed the door and locked it. Achilles had followed her in. He hopped on the bed, but she shooed him off.

“Don't get too comfortable. We've got to make sure this place is on the up-and-up.”

She stripped off the blankets and sheets to be sure the bed wasn't some sort of vicious monster in disguise. She went through the drawers, found some stationery, a pen, a worn copy of the druidic tomes, revised edition. No goblins hid under the bed. The bathtub, as far as she could tell, was not some evil artifact waiting to devour her soul. And the television, while it did have a grainy image, wasn't especially menacing. After checking behind the paintings on the walls, she decided she was being paranoid. After double-checking that the closet wasn't a portal to some nameless dimension of horror, she sat on the unmade bed and dared to relax.

Achilles put his head on her lap.

“All clear, I guess.” She picked him up and looked into his brown eyes. “Troy thinks you're magic. I'm beginning to think he's right. I know it's probably against the rules to admit it to us, but if you are magic, can you at least give me a sign?”

He licked her nose.

She smiled and set him beside her. “Close enough.”

She unfolded her oracle map and crossed out the house on chicken legs. That left only the giant question mark at the end of their journey. One way or another, things were ending soon.

She was tired but couldn't sleep, so she decided a quick shower was in order. It was always better to shower at night so she wouldn't have to waste the forty-five minutes with a blow-dryer in the morning.

She stripped down, and while part of her wanted to avoid looking in the mirror, she forced herself to as she gave herself a quick brush-down from head to toe. Halfway through she noticed the fur on the carpet, but there seemed little point in stopping. She took her shower, standing under the hot water for longer than she really should've, but when she turned off the water she almost felt human again.

She was plugging in her extra-strength hair dryer when someone knocked on the door. She grabbed the cheap motel robe off the wall and wrapped it around herself. It was too tight in the shoulders and too short, showing most of her thighs.

“Go away. It's late,” Helen shouted, before reaching the door. She had no interest in conversation right now. Not with oracles. Not with Troy. She only wanted to dry off and go to bed. She changed her mind after glancing through the peephole.

Agent Waechter's smiling face appeared to her.

She threw open the door and punched him in the stomach. He doubled over and fell to his knees.

“You son of a bitch—”

The two black-suited agents beside him drew their swords, and Helen balled her hands into fists.

“It's OK,” gasped Waechter. “It's OK. Miss Nicolaides isn't dangerous. She certainly could've killed me with that blow if she'd wished.”

Helen grinned. “Damn right.”

The agents lowered their weapons.

“You set us up,” said Helen. “You sent us into that witch's house blind.”

“I did. But you must understand there are—”

“Rules,” she said. “Everybody keeps telling us there are rules, but nobody seems to have the rule book handy.”

She helped him up, though part of her wanted to pound him into a bloody mess. The agents couldn't have stopped her from doing so. She felt the power in her muscles. It was more than enough to flatten all three. The idea frightened and thrilled her. She had been more violent lately. She didn't know if it was the absence of her bracelet or the frustration of tonight or a little bit of both, but she found herself eager to hurt things.

Waechter was as good a target as any.

“You have every right to be upset,” he said.

“I'm so glad to have your permission.”

He stood, though still bent at a slight angle. “Miss Nicolaides…Helen…”

She glared down at him. He wasn't a small man, but he was still eminently crushable.

“Miss Nicolaides, I'm no happier about the path we've been forced on than anyone else. I'm only doing my job.”

“Your job is to get me fed to a witch?”

“My job is to see if you're the right person for the job. These tests might not seem like it, but they're important. There are milestones on the road you walk, and it's essential that you pass them.”

“Peachy. So it's your job to throw us into the dragon's lair and hope we don't get killed.”

“More or less. Believe it or not, we are on your side.”

“How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”

“I never lied to you. I never told you to trust the old woman.”

Helen was tempted to punch him so hard that his head popped off like a cork. She imagined it sailing away, spinning end over end. She smiled.

“I don't trust you, Waechter, but I don't see how I have a choice. So tell me where to go and what to do, and I'll do it. As we've nearly reached the end of my patience and the only thing preventing me from beating the crap out of you is that I just want to get some sleep, I suggest you spit it out without any cryptic comments or long-winded philosophizing.”

“Perfectly reasonable,” he agreed as he handed her two tickets to an amusement park called Lands of Adventure.

“Let me guess. This place is cursed by an old wizard. The haunted house is actually haunted. If we eat the cotton candy, we turn into donkeys. But of course you couldn't tell me because that's against the rules.”

She started to close the door.

“Don't you want directions?” he asked.

“Don't need them,” she replied. “If I'm meant to find the place, I'm sure I'll find the place just fine on my own.”

She shut the door with a displeased smile.

Troy was dreaming. It wasn't his own dream, though.

Helen stood beside his bed. She began to unbutton her shirt, and as she did so her fur disappeared. Her horns melted away. She transformed into a beautiful dark-haired woman, and she bent down and caressed his cheek.

“You've freed me from my curse with your love, Troy. I'm yours to have, forever.”

Troy laughed. A puzzled expression on her face, Helen pulled away.

“What's wrong?”

“Seriously? This is the best you've got?” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “This is the fantasy you think I want?”

Helen, or her dream equivalent, said, “I don't understand.”

“It's a bit simplistic, isn't it? I kiss the monster, and she becomes a beautiful girl. Then we ride into the sunset in my custom rocket car and get to eat all the ice cream we want. Do you think I'm five?”

“But this is your heart's desire. It's everything you want.”

“It's not everything I want. It's everything I desire. There's a difference.”

“Not for most people.”

“I'm not most people.”

“I don't get it. It's been a while since I've done this, but tempting mortals in their dreams has never been hard.”

“I taught myself how to lucid dream.” Troy went to the window and parted the curtains. His rocket car was parked just outside. “I was joking about that.”

Helen waved her hand, and the vehicle vanished. “Very well. What do you want?”

“I want you to stop pretending to be her. The human form is fine,” said Troy. “It's not her.”

“But what if I told you it could be?” she asked.

“I'd say there's nothing wrong with how she is now and tell you to screw yourself.”

The temptress flopped on the bed. “You're not doing this right. I'm here to offer you your wildest dreams. All you need do is ask.” She expanded into Helen's minotaur form, naked on the bed. “Is this more to your liking?”

He closed his eyes. It felt wrong to look, like violating a sacred trust with Helen even if only in a dream.

“Stop it.”

“As you wish.”

The temptress transformed with a loud slurp. Troy opened his eyes to see the Lost God, in the form of a talking mound of raw hamburger, on his bed.

“Not my true form, but one you should have no problem recognizing.”

“What do you want?”

The god said, “Why, to reward you for your excellent services. You've collected so many of the relics of power that I can now manifest, with some difficulty, in the astral realm. And that's quite an accomplishment.”

“You're welcome.” Troy threw open the door to his room. “Now go away.”

The god slithered off the bed like a giant greasy slug. “Not quite yet. You've done a great job so far, but if all goes as I hope, there will come a moment when I'll have to ask one last thing from you.”

“You've already asked for a hell of a lot.”

The god formed shoulders to shrug with. “Yet I will ask for much more when the time comes.”

Troy pointed to the mark on his hand. “Why ask at all? We don't have any choice.”

“Yes, the curse I've placed upon you has been a fine motivator so far, but the final favor I ask demands more than your life. It demands your willing cooperation.”

“You're wasting your time here because that's something I can't give you. I'll admit I like the adventure. It's been fun. But it doesn't change the facts. You're a banished god who could do a lot of damage to this world.”

“Guilty as charged,” said the god. “Though I'm not out to hurt anyone. You misjudge me. I only want to help you reach your full potential. I'm like Prometheus. He wanted to help you rise above your simple cave-dwelling existence, and what did he get for it? Strapped to a rock, having his liver pecked out for eternity. All because he cared for you in a way no other god did. I'm just like that. Except instead of giving you a gift to make you softer, I want to push you to become stronger. Prometheus was soft. I'm here for some tough love.

“I'm not evil. I have no desire to destroy. Only to enhance. You mortals can accomplish so much, but only when it is demanded of you. Only in pain and suffering, in endless disaster, can you find your true potential. The other gods are too weak to offer you the opportunity I bring. They fear what you might become. I only want you to become more than you are. Or perish as unworthy of my time so we can start over. Either way.”

“You're crazy.”

The Lost God shook his head. “I can see you're a stubborn boy. Nevertheless, I can offer you something you can't resist.”

“No you can't. Now get the hell out of my dreams.”

“If you insist.” The god slunk out the door. “But are you certain I can't tempt you? Not even with your friend's life?”

Troy didn't answer, but the look on his face said more than enough. The god smiled.

“It's simple. When the time comes, and you'll know when that time is, I need you to put on that helmet you found.”

“Why?”

“The metaphysics are a bit complicated, but when I rise into this world, I'll need a temporary host. Only for a day or two. Since you're a healthy young specimen, you're the best candidate. If you're fortunate you'll even survive the experience, though I make no promises.”

“Why me? Why not Helen?”

“If only I could use her. She's perfect. So strong. So powerful. But the helmet won't fit her. Her head's the wrong shape, and those horns…” The god shuddered, raining flecks of meat. “They're a great look, but completely unworkable. I do hope you're not offended by being my second choice.”

“You son of a bitch,” said Troy. “The deal was we find your items of power, and you release us from the curse.”

The god chuckled. “The deal is what I say it is. But you really haven't completed the quest until I am made manifest. And once I am, I'll undo the curse. I promise. With a little luck you'll survive. But at the very least, I can promise you that Helen will. It's a very generous offer. I'd suggest you take me up on it.

“There's no need to decide right now. Think about it. I'll get back to you.”

The god sizzled, dissolving into a rancid mound of rotten flesh. It was only a dream, and the hamburger god didn't have to leave anything behind. But it was a subtle reminder that, even in this place, the dark god was watching. And waiting. The stench filled Troy's dreamscape.

It stayed with him, even after he'd taken the rocket car for a spin.