Love or Fate (6 page)

“W
hat
is the hottest chili known to god or man?” asked the Black Knight at the spike-covered turnstile. Apollo had made it through another hallway only to be confronted by a very tall suit of ebony armor.

“So you’re a gatekeeper, too, huh?” asked Apollo.

“Yes. Hector, the Trojan Prince, at your service. You must answer my riddle to move on.”

“Greetings, Sir Hector, but please, what does the hottest chili have to do with finding Thalia?”

“Don’t know who this Thalia is or why she is lost, but I know that my questions are often about heat. This is Hades, after all.”

“But it’s not even hot down here. It’s actually ridiculously cold.”

“What are you talking about? I’m boiling up!” said the knight indignantly.

Apollo couldn’t help but shiver. He was freezing. Plus he had no idea what the hottest chili was.

“Please, Sir Hector, can’t you ask me something about gods? Maybe a little trivia about mortals of the future? I also know a lot about the sun and battles near and far.”

“Sorry. The question is, what is the hottest chili known to god or man?”

“Um, okay, let’s see, um, well, I seem to recall something called a jalpeeny?”

“Wrong! That’s a jalapeño, and it is far from the hottest chili. The answer is habañero. You lose.”

“No!” yelled Apollo.

“Yes. I’m afraid I must send you back to the gates, to contend with Cerberus.”

“But wait,” said Apollo. “Isn’t there anything I can do? Can I give you something, anything?” But Apollo knew he had nothing of real value. Except…

“I’ll give you Hades’ magic helmet!” he declared.

“Oh,” exclaimed the knight. “Oh, that would be very fine. Yes, yes, I will take that.”

“Great!” Apollo cried with relief. “Then please let me through.”

“Oh, no, I will take the helmet, but only in exchange for another riddle. If you then answer it
correctly, I shall let you through; otherwise, it’s back to the gates.”

Apollo’s heart sank. “This one isn’t about peppers, is it?”

“No, this one is about the Great War.”

“The Great War?”

“The Trojan War. Do you accept my offering—will you release the helmet? Or shall I send you to the three-headed dog?”

“I have no choice,” Apollo said, hanging his head low. It didn’t seem quite fair, but who was he to argue? Anyway, he didn’t have time.

The helmet popped away into thin air and then appeared in the knight’s hands as Apollo slowly came back into sight. He was worse for the wear, too, for his football uniform was filthy, covered in dirt, goop, and grime.

“Okay, well, go ahead, then—what is the next question?”

“There is a king in Cyprus who did not himself go into battle—”

“Why, that is Cinyras, king of Paphos. I’m correct; let me through!” Apollo said with glee.

“Wait, I am not finished. He made a promise to Agamemnon—”

“Oh, I know this. To send fifty ships for the war effort! Let me through!”

“Not yet. Here is the riddle. Did King Cinyras fulfill his promise to Agamemnon?”

“Well, this is tricky, isn’t it?”

“Did he fulfill his promise or not? Simply answer the question.”

“Well…yes. Yes, he did send fifty ships. But the thing was, he sent only one real one and forty-nine toy clay ones with forty-nine tiny clay soldiers inside.”

“Why, that is…correct! Congratulations! He did indeed keep his promise. Of course, the ships soon disintegrated in the sea.” Satisfied, the knight lifted the helmet and placed it on his head. He began to fade away, laughing to himself. “Go on,” he said. The spike-covered turnstile beckoned behind his now invisible body. Apollo chose to jump it rather than risk injury by pushing through.

He ran down this latest corridor at lightning speed, hoping no one would see him now that he was visible. Faster and faster he ran, past a minute rhinoceros with a golden horn, past three five-legged mohawked monkeys who were whooping far too loudly, past a witch in a flowered bonnet and a thick-necked giant. All these creatures appeared to be going through their dark dead days without so much as a worry or a care.

Abruptly the long hallway poured into a seemingly empty and dark cave that echoed Apollo’s every step, where the wind whipped so fast that it moaned angrily. The place was dismal. And disturbing. But this was the right way. He could just feel it deep down in the base of his spine. He had to keep going.

“Pretty, squawk, yummy, squawk.”

This new noise was even more unsettling. It burned Apollo’s ears. Every hair on his body stood on end.

And then he saw them. And froze.

Up along the high ceiling of the cave, hanging on every possible corner and ledge, were the most sinister creatures he could remember seeing, with huge, monstrous wings and eerily human faces. He’d heard of these creatures; there was no mistaking them. They were Harpies. And they were all looking down at him with hunger in their eyes.

Up until now, Apollo’s journey through Tartarus had been upsetting and stressful, even occasionally amusing, but certainly not scary in a deadly kind of way. Now, however, Apollo feared for his life.

“Pretty, squawk, yummy, squawk.”

Apollo concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, not too slow, but not so fast that he’d
rile the creatures up. They weren’t attacking yet, but he felt their descent was imminent.

He wished they knew his real identity. Most creatures of Hades, no matter how horrid, were supposed to make exceptions for gods. But in his football uniform he hardly looked the part.

“Pretty, squawk, yummy, squawk.”

One, two, then a third let go of their ledges and drifted back and forth above him. He was sweating despite the arctic chill. They were taunting him, flying dangerously close.

“No, no. I can’t fall victim to these…beasts. Thalia, I must find Thalia,” he said to himself.

“No, squawk, Thalia, squawk.”

“What? Did you just say Thalia’s name?” Apollo ventured to ask the creature nearest him, who looked at him with bloodthirsty eyes.

“What, squawk, Thalia, squawk,” it replied.

“Are you copying me?”

“You, squawk, copy, squawk.”

Apollo thought hard. There was something here that he needed to figure out. But it was difficult to concentrate because more and more of the creatures were now swooping down from their perches, circling his head. Every once in a while one would graze his hair.

“Ahhh!” One had just bitten his left ear.

“Owww!” Another scratched at his cheek.

Apollo was ready to shift into panic mode. The creatures surrounded him so thickly that he could no longer see the way out. They continued their horrible squawking.

Then it came to him. It was worth a try.

“Foul tasting I am. Dirty and grimy, too.” Apollo started to mumble under his breath. “Too skinny, no meat on those bones.”

“Foul tasting, squawk, skinny, squawk,” his attackers mimicked.

“Sour and bitter, rancid and vile.”

“Sour, squawk, bitter, squawk.”

“Rancid, squawk, vile, squawk.”

Sure enough, the creatures began to back away as if hypnotized. The excitement in the air seemed to evaporate. A few of the animals even returned to their perches, looking bored.

Apollo took the opportunity to make a run for it. He bolted, just forged ahead in a straight line. He heard the violence of hundreds of wings flapping behind him, but he didn’t pay any heed; he just kept mumbling and running, running and mumbling.

He didn’t slow down, even when he’d gotten far out of range. The cave took a sharp right, then a hard left, and then, suddenly, there was light up ahead. He ran toward it, knowing he was near. Now
that the wind was gone, he could smell the evil breath of the Furies festering in the air.

He came to a roaring halt in front of three doors. Light streamed from behind them. Beside the one on the right was a huge pile of what looked like dirty laundry. What was
that
doing there? Just as Apollo took a step closer to investigate, he heard footsteps coming toward him. Heavy footsteps that could easily belong to the Furies.

Apollo had no time to do anything but jump into the pile of clothes. He covered himself in the stinky fabrics and held his breath, wondering what to do next.

A
t
least the door to our prison cell was open. Unfortunately, it was now atop Tizzie the toad. I hated Tizzie with every fiber of my being, but I’d never wanted her dead! I wouldn’t even kill a spider. And now I was a real murderer.

My sisters and I all looked at each other in total despair. I didn’t think I was crying until I felt the tears streaming down my face. But I had to pull myself together. We had to get out of here.

Era was not happy about having to get back into her dirty clothes after her quick dip in the bubbly lavender bath, but she had no choice. We tried to blink her clean clothes, we tried to conjure up clean clothes for all of us, but all we came up with was a single tube sock and a linty moth-ridden sweater.

Polly still didn’t want to risk escape, especially since our powers were so obviously unstable, but I finally just grabbed her arm and pulled. Era stumbled behind us.

As the three of us ran up the stairs, then through the replica of our old home, I tried desperately not to look around. I didn’t want to be distracted by the memories, both sad and happy. The drapes. The candles. The piano. It was so bittersweet.

We got out quickly through the door we’d used to come in, and once we were outside, we stopped for a moment to catch our breath and get our bearings. I looked over my shoulder just in time to see the doorway through which we’d entered disappear. Now we had no choice but to keep going.

We were in a room surrounded by doors. Off to the right of us was a dank, dark passageway that looked like it led nowhere. In front of us were three other doors that looked more promising. Yes, the way out had to be one of these. But which one? I couldn’t think clearly; all I could think about was Tizzie and what I’d done to her. Until Polly gasped, grabbing my attention as she pointed to a corner of the room, her eyes filled with fright.

Then her eyelids fluttered closed and she fainted.

My eyes followed the direction in which Polly had pointed—and there, poking out from underneath a pile of dirty Fury clothes that were surely waiting for us to wash them, was a single sneaker, connected to a real live foot. Somebody was hiding in that pile, watching us. I didn’t want to stick around to find out who.

“Get up, Polly! Era, pick her up!” I whispered.

Era, also noticing the foot, looked at me and began to cry. Polly started to come to.

“Let’s get out of here,” Era sobbed, pulling me and a half-standing Polly toward the middle door.

“No, I think it’s this way,” muttered Polly, regaining her feet and her senses and pointing to the left.

“Whoa, you’re both wrong; it’s this way,” and I grabbed Polly by her filthy sleeve. It was damp, just like mine.

“No, it’s not,” Era said. “I paid attention on the way in. Really, it must be this way?” But she didn’t look so sure.

“I’m going this way. You two can do what you want,” I said as I kept moving in the
right
direction. Polly and Era waited for a second or so, threw another glance in the direction of the shoe, which, by some stroke of luck, hadn’t moved to reveal its wearer, and then followed me.

We ran and ran and ran until we came to a gate. A locked gate. A locked gate I had never seen before. “Argh!” I let out a scream of frustration when I realized things looked unfamiliar. I cast a glance at my timepiece—another hour gone.

“Shhh,” said Polly. “We have to be quiet. Oh, who am I kidding—this will never work!”

“I guess I went the wrong way,” I said sheepishly. “Let’s turn around.”

“Wait, I’ll let you through.” It was a deep voice. It was coming from the top of the gate. We looked up but saw only shadows.

“Did somebody up there just say something?” I asked.

“Yes. I said I’d let you through,” came the reply from the darkness.

“Okay, then, let us through.”

“First you must answer my riddle.” I couldn’t tell for sure, but the voice sounded like it was smiling.

“A riddle? What kind of riddle?” I asked.

Polly tugged on my sleeve. “Let’s just run,” she whispered. “It could be a trap. A Fury trap.”

I ignored her and asked again, “What kind of riddle?”

“History!” said the voice.

“Oh, I stink at history,” I said. “Polly, you’re right, I think we should—”

“Wait, wait!” the voice cooed softly. “On second thought, how about a question regarding gossip?”

“What?” I asked.

“The question, it’s about gossip. Will you stay and take my challenge? It will be so much fun.”

“Fun?” I couldn’t imagine anything being fun right now. But if it got us through the gate…“Um, okay, I’m good at gossip. But what happens if we get it wrong?”

The voice in the darkness gave out a laugh. “Then it’s back to your room.”

“How did you know?…”

Polly nudged me, panic in her eyes. “It’s a trick,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”

I pulled away from her. “Um, can you show yourself first?” I asked.

“Thalia, let’s just go,” said Polly.

“I think I know the way. It was back there,” said Era under her breath.

“No, I know the way—let’s go my way,” said Polly even more quietly.

“Show yourself,” I said again.

Down swooped a scraggly-looking bird, like an old condor or eagle. But it had pointy ears, big
pointy ears. And its nails, or claws, were at least six inches long and curled away from its body. As it landed before us, I could see that it looked like it had been picked over by a few hungry bugs. It would have been quite a scary creature if it hadn’t stood only a foot and a half high.

I hoped against hope this wasn’t a Fury in disguise. Anyway, if it was, we were all doomed, anyway.

“Okay, let’s get on with this,” I said. “What’s the question?”

“Okay, okay. Let’s see. Back in prehistoric times—”

“Wait, you said no history! You said it would be about gossip!” I complained.

“Oh, right—yes, I did. Forgive me. Hmmm, a question about gossip. Okay, then. Yes, I’ve got it. Who is the lucky new girl who has won the young god Apollo’s heart?”

“What?” I screeched.

“Yes, I heard he is happily in love with a young woman and they are off to settle in Crete somewhere, then they are to travel the world together.”

“Are you sure it was…” I choked on the last word.

“This is some sort of game, Thalia, a trick. We must get out of here,” said Polly as she clutched my hand and started to lead me away.

“No,” I whispered.

“Oh, wait.” The bird laughed. “Wait, maybe it wasn’t Apollo, maybe it was Ares. I always get those two gods mixed up.”

“How can you get them mixed up?” I screamed. “Apollo is young and gorgeous. Ares is old and fat and bald.”

“I think it was Ares. Maybe it was Apollo. Oh, goodness, who knows? Never mind, obviously that question was no good. Let’s see, a new question. Hmmm.”

“Um, Thalia, I think Polly is right. I have a bad feeling—let’s just get out of here,” Era whispered.

“Listen, if we can get through this gate, we’ll at least be farther out of the Furies’ lair. Besides, I don’t want to find out which one of them was hiding back there.” I turned back to the bird creature. “Let’s hear the new question.”

“Yes, okay, the question. Hmmm. Why was Eris not invited to the wedding of Peleus and Thetis?”

“I know!” Polly, Era, and I each yelled out simultaneously.

“She was a wretched person, and nobody wanted her to come,” said Polly.

“The bride hated her,” I said.

“She had atrocious hair,” said Era.

On hearing our answers, the bird smiled in its beaky way. “You’re all right,” it said. “Bravo!”

“Great, let us through,” I gushed. My sisters jumped up and down in excitement. We were going to make it!

Then the bird started to laugh. No, not just laugh; it began to cackle. A giant red buzzer appeared out of nowhere, and a horrible noise echoed around us. “But it doesn’t matter! You lose all the same!” The buzzer was a loser button, like on those horrible game shows. The bird’s cackling got louder and thicker and higher as we gazed at each other in confusion. The sound was coming at us from every angle; it was surrounding us with hideous sound. The noise seemed like it could gobble us up right then and there.

We turned around to see them then, standing there, their smiles as wide as Hera’s bottom. It was Meg, Alek…and Tizzie!