Before I make my leave, Diana educates me on a broad range of mortal items. To say the basics, I know about automobiles, clothing, technologies (which I personally find fascinating), and slang terms such as 'dude, sup, etc.'
"You can't go to the mortal world like a fool," Diana told me, laughing as I struggle to understand the pronunciation of Kansas and Arkansas. For some reason, Arkansas was not spoken as 'Kansas' with an 'ar' before it. The mortal language works in strange ways.
"Why would any person want make-up?" I ask Diana in curiosity, "Why would anyone want to cover natural beauty?"
Diana chuckles softly, "That is a question I am unable to answer," she says dutifully, "Anyways, nowadays all they need is a special filter on their phone to make themselves look pretty."
"A filter?" I echo.
"It makes their skin look whiter and clearer and their eyes bigger," Diana explains in amusement, "Funny ways a mortal classifies beauty."
I give her a sideways grin, "You think? Maybe I should give make-up a try," I joke.
Diana gives me a hard stare, "You would look awful," she remarks, "Like a the ugliness of a clown multiplied a thousand times."
"A million times," I correct with a flourish, and Diana smiles.
"A billion times," she counters.
"A bajillion times?"
"Sure, I guess that works," Diana shrugs.
She spends a few more minutes lecturing me about the importance of manners, and the corrupted and dangerous streets.
I laugh cockily, "What can a mortal do against a warrior like me?" I puff out my chest proudly.
Diana only half-smiles this time, "The mortals have developed a powerful weapon. They call it a gun. The gun has the energy to fire a single stone, called a bullet, and it flies faster than the eye can see. If it hits a vital organ, you have a very high, almost guaranteed chance to die."
I gulp, "Ah."
"Keep that in mind Athene," Diana says solemnly, "Always be ready."
I nod, "Got it."
Diana smiles, "On that note, how about we make our leave now."
I cast my squinting eyes over the clear surface of the sea. The waters are calm now, and soft waves lap against the shore, withdrawing ever so slightly to reveal a patch of wet sand. No outline of a ship appears over the horizon, and I squint harder to no avail.
Diana stands beside me calmly, her eyes fixed intently on the brilliant blue sky.
"Are we going to take a mortal helicopter or plane?" I ask her, nudging her shoulder gently to gain her attention.
Diana merely shakes her head, "No, we're going to travel even faster."
"But you said the plane was the fastest traveling device the mortals have… we can't possible—"
Diana cuts me off, "Now, we aren't mortals exactly Athene. We're going to air travel."
I blink for a moment in stunned silence, "Air travel?" I echo in disbelief.
Diana grins at my obvious bewilderment, as if my confusion amused her, "I hope you aren't airsick," she jokes softly.
I give a weak laugh, "Ha, that's so funny and witty of you."
Diana frowns, "Come on."
I jerk my head, "Where? Is there some portal-thing?"
Diana doesn't answer me directly, "Lord Zeus," she says, kneeling on the ground, she glares at me and gestures me to copy. Immediately I crouch into an awkward bow, "We request travel to New York City."
At those words, the ground beneath me shakes violently, and I cry out in astonishment. It sways back and forth, and my arm shoot out to regain balance. My vision grow blurry and translucent, like I am staring through a fogged window. I blink twice, but nothing happens. A tingling sensation races up my body, intensifying into a searing burning. I scream in the pure shock of it, more than fear.
Whoosh! And suddenly, the world goes black.
When I regain my senses, I am at peace in inky blackness. I feel as if I am floating, suspended in midair by a string that hangs from the ceiling. I can vaguely feel the wind whisking my face, and the chill of cutting through the air at top speed, but I am not moving consciously.
Suddenly there is a flash of light, and I am face down on the rough ground. My whole body aches as if it has been pummeled into a wall repeatedly, and I groan as I roll over.
My vision is hazy and tinged with black, but I can make out the fuzzy image of Diana's face leaning over me.
"Fun right?" she asks mockingly, jerking me strongly to my feet.
I put a hand to my head in an attempt to steady myself, "Not funny," I rasp, coughing as I lean on Diana for support.
As my mind slowly ceases to spin and whirl, my eyesight gradually clears as well. As I survey my surroundings, I almost forget to breathe.
On all sides stand tall, imposing steel skyscrapers that gleam in the sunlight. Some are so high that their peaks are shrouded in mist and clouds. All the buildings are different, and I spy a particularly abstract looking one with strange metal beams attached diagonally, framed by thousands of shining, tinted windows. The one beside that is a standard, straight skyscraper, one of the taller ones. It is a deep blue, with steel support beams that looking blinding in the direct sunlight.
Cars whiz past my sidewalk, all sorts of shapes and colors. Some are white, some are black, blue, gray, deep red, even green. A bus flies by, the wind catching my face and whipping my hair. People walk past me, their paces brisk, and their gaze fixed ahead.
A little girl skips by in a bright pink dress. Her blonde hair pulled back in two stubs of a pigtail, and her blue eyes sparkling in delight. A woman, who looks like an older copy of the child, calls out to her as she races behind the prancing girl. A man wearing a sleek black business suit trails behind, fiddling uncomfortably with his red tie. A normal family.
"Come on," Diana says, taking my arm, "I'm going to call a taxi, we're going to Long Island."
I blink in bewilderment, "Is it an island that is long?"
Diana sighs, "Come on," she repeats without answering my question."
She takes me to a busy intersection that is swarming with cars and buses. Nearby, an elderly lady sits on a bench and reads the newspaper. I peek at the front cover: The New York Times is printed in fancy calligraphy at the top, and the headline reads: Third theft in believed chain robberies in New York area.
Diana stands, perched at the edge of the sidewalk, staring intently at the cars flying by. Finally, a bright yellow car with a sign attached to its roof drawls around a corner, and Diana's hands wave wildly, "Taxi! Taxi!" she yells over the traffic.
The man sitting in the taxi notes Diana with a nod and slowly changes lanes to edge closer. The taxi slides smoothly into the lane, and the man peers out of an open window, "Hop in," he says in an unreadable tone, and Diana opens the car door and slips inside.
I follow and slam the door behind me.
"Destination?" the man asks, looking at them through the rearview mirror.
"Montauk… Long Island," Diana replies smoothly.
"Address?" the man prompts.
Diana waves her hand dismissively, "Just get us to Montauk."
The man shrugs, "You got money?" he asks.
"Of course," Diana says tartly, her hands closing around her purse defensively.
The man looks at her with black eyes, "We'll be off then, ma'am."
Diana sits back in her seat, "Get us there fast, and I'll pay you extra." She picks at a loose scrap of leather hanging off the side of her seat.
Then man slams the pedal and the taxi shoots forward, weaving in and out of traffic, running red lights. Apparently this man really took Diana's incentive. He whizzed past a car, that barely manage to skid to a stop, and the woman inside yelled something inaudible at the taxi driver, her fists whirling furiously.
The driver ignores her, and zooms past a nearby cyclist, almost sending the poor man off his bike. Diana's knuckles were white as she clutched her seat tightly, "On second thought, get us there quick, without hurting anyone, and in one piece and I'll pay you extra."
The speed of the taxi dropped from ninety miles an hour to forty, with a screech of protest from the tires. A horn blared from the car behind.
The man grinned lopsidedly at them through the mirror, "Sorry about that lads," he says apologetically, his smile revealing broken teeth, "Given you quite a scare, my lady?" His beady eyes turn to Diana, and I realize just how inhumane his pitch black eyes are.
Diana tenses beside me suddenly, her hands slipping into her coat pocket where she concealed a long hunting knife. I glance at her quickly in confusion, and her eyes dart down towards where I have tucked my own dagger.
My hands slip into my pockets, and my fingers close tightly around the hilt.
The man chuckles, a sound that resounds down my spine, "Why so tense all of a sudden?" he rasps, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the taxi, "Relax."
Diana clears her throat, "Uh actually, we can get off now. You don't need to take us all the way to Montauk, we can take the bus. Just drop us off here," she fumbles with her purse, "I can pay now."
The man's gaze narrows, "Now, now," he chides, "I can take you, there's no need in all the… inconveniences. In fact, I insist on driving you there." He licks his chops hungrily, and I shudder.
Diana whips out her knife suddenly and flashes it towards the man's neck with blinding speed. Surprisingly, the man manages to twist the knife out of Diana's hands and toss it out the window, shattering the glass and spraying me with the shrapnel.
I scream in shock and lurch back, fumbling with my own knife.
The taxi whirls into an alley and screeches to a sudden halt, throwing me against the front seat. The man leaps out of the car with speed that my eyes cannot keep up with. Diana has produced a second knife from her right boot, shorter and stubbier than the first, but a knife nonetheless.
"Manticore," Diana snarls with such rage, her knife steady in her hand as she slips out the car to meet the defenseless man.
Manticore? My mind wheels in surprise and bewilderment. My hand goes slack and the blade drops from my numb hands. I peer out the window to see a blur of movement in the alley. Diana is clashing with the man— no, he's not a man.
I almost scream in disgust and horror, the man is gone. What replaces him is a monster. It looks like a lion, every limb bulging with thick muscle, but the tail curves upwards into a horrible barbed tip, a scorpion's tail.
The only thing still the same are the deep black eyes that gleam with malice. The Manticore roars in a mixture of rage and irritation as Diana's knife flicks it across the flank, leaving a small smear of black blood behind. The blood of the monsters.
But the shallow cut did nothing more than annoy the Manticore as it slashes brutally with its barbed tail. Diana sprang back, the pointed tip slamming the ground where she had been moments before, smashing the stone cleanly in half.
I cry a high pitched battle cry and charge forwards, wielding my knife. The Manticore's gaze sparks hungrily, "What's this?" he rumbles in amusement, "Another snack?" His barbed tail flicks in a deadly arc towards my side, but all my battle training has sharpened my instincts, and I dart away from the tip.
I slash downwards as the Manticore's tail passes, leaving a good-sized cut across the tail. The monster roars in pain, and jerks back. Diana drags her knife across the Manticore's face, and black blood seeps from the wound into his black eyes.
The monster groans and staggers back, shaking its head wildly to clear the blood. At this time, both Diana and I strike. Diana's knife lodges itself in the Manticore's chest, and mine protrudes form the monster's forehead.
The Manticore roars again, but this time it sounds feeble. It collapses on its side heavily, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Then I watch, wide-eyed as the body dissolves chunkily into the air, like a sand castle melting away by the breeze.
"It's dead," Diana says in distaste as she wipes the blood of the Manticore off her knife.
"What—what… where did it go?" I stammer in astonishment as I stare where the Manticore's body had been a moment ago, "It just… disintegrated."
Diana opens her mouth to reply when a clatter sends her knife flying into a defensive stance. My arm muscles tense in readiness, the Manticore attack has made me wary and paranoid, as if every normal-looking person could be a monster in disguise.
A scraggly looking boy with a Yankees cap appears from the shadows with a slight limp, he bleats in surprise when he sees us, "Thought I smelled something funny here." He wrinkles his nose, and a slender girl emerges from behind him.
She looks to be Asian, with a short, but willowy body shape, high cheekbones, and soft brown eyes.
"Hmm…" she says thoughtfully, "Apparently they've already dealt with it." She sounds oddly disappointed, and my eyes flash to where she has a gleaming bronze sword strapped in a leather sheath.
Diana's blue eyes narrow, "Who are you?" she demands.
The girl glances at Diana questioningly, "I'm Melinda," she says slowly, "How'd you learn to fight a Manticore?"
Diana's knuckles whiten against the hilt of her dagger, "Where you watching us?" she says accusingly.
Melinda shrugs, "I was going to help, but it didn't look like you needed any. Look, I'm a demigod, and this is Sage, a satyr. We don't want any trouble," she adds hastily, seeing Diana's tight composure.
"A satyr?" I repeat in bewilderment.
"Half man and half sheep," Diana explains.
"Sheep?" the satyr named Sage cries angrily, "Half goat!"
Diana hardly takes notice to Sage's outburst, instead, she turns to Melinda again, "You train anywhere?" she asks carefully, and Melinda nods.
"Camp Half-blood," she replies with a slight touch of pride, "We have the best hero trainer in history, Chiron."
Diana's eyes widen at the mention of the name, "Chiron? The Chiron? You know Chiron?" Her mouth slowly curves into a slight smile.
Melinda nods again, her posture uneasy, "Do you?"
"In fact, Chiron and I are friends," Diana replies, "I was taking Athene to Camp Half-blood just now, until we were intercepted." Her eyes darken, "New York has grown more dangerous since last time."
"I take it you've got another half-blood with you," Melinda says casually, "Attracts more monsters with his scent."
My mind is struggling to keep up. Half-blood? Chiron? Camp Half-blood? "Whoa, whoa, whoa," I say, holding my hands up, "What's a half-blood? And am I a half-blood?"
"Yes," Diana looks at me severely, her tone grave, "Melinda here is one too. A half-blood is—"
"Half human and half god," Melinda interrupts, "One of your parents is human, the other is a god."
"I know my mother," I say, and Diana flinches beside me as if struck. I glance at her in concern, "What's wrong with that? I do!"
Diana sighs heavily, "Look… Athene… Hippolyta—"
"Hold up! Hold up!" Sage says suddenly, "Did you say Hippolyta? Like the queen of the amazons?" The strange goat boy has a whisk of a goatee, and his cheeks are hollow and his skin is pale.
"Don't interrupt me satyr," Diana says coldly, and Sage pales even further. His hands lace nervously behind his back.
Diana glances at the curious face of Melinda and the ashen face of Sage, then she hesitates, "Maybe now isn't the best time," she says finally, "I'll tell you later Athene." Then she turns to Melinda, "Take us to Chiron."