I pull my arm back, my fingers curled tightly around the wooden handle, then push it forward, sending the ax sailing through the air. It spins and flips a few times, before embedding itself in the outermost ring of the heavy, wooden target.
"I thought you were supposed to be good at the whole 'target' thing," Ares muses, chucking his own ax.
"I'm good with arrows," I correct, "axes are a different story.
"I can hardly even throw mine!" Hermes groans, heaving his above his head and hurling it as far as he can. It hits the dirt, about three feet from where we stand.
"Why is ax-throwing even a thing?" Achilles demands, picking his weapon off the ground.
"Maybe if I spin around, I can get some momentum!" Hermes says, retrieving his axe.
"Wait, Hermes-" I attempt to warn him. He holds his ax out in front of him and begins swinging. The weight of the weapon and his uncontrollable superspeed quickly overpower him, and he's a wildly spinning blur clutching a deadly weapon, screaming. I close my eyes and wait for the crash that we all know is coming.
BANG!
"Ow!"
"Hermes!"
"Sorry!"
There it is.
Hesitantly, I open my eyes and sigh. He's gone spinning right through an entire line of archers, knocking over six-oops, sorry, seven. Arrows and bows are strewn everywhere, people are lying on the ground, groaning, and in the middle of it all, Hermes is barely holding back laughter.
"It's not funny, Feather-Brains," Daphne snaps, picking herself up off the ground.
"Oh, that's a new one," Ares muses beside me. We've heard "Herpes", "Wing-Head", and "Fairy Feet", but never "Feather-Brains".
"Hermes!" Atalanta whines, picking up half of a curved stick, with a piece of string dangling uselessly from it, "You broke my bow!"
"No," He corrects, "I was the reason that you broke it." She gapes like a fish, her mouth opening and closing as she tries to think of a retort. Hermes smirks, getting to his feet and retrieving his axe. He steps back and surveys the damage done to the shooting range. "Wow, what happened here?" He asks, the picture of innocence, "Archers are so clumsy."
"Hey!" I cry defensively, before bending down to pick up my ax, tripping over it, and falling on my butt.
"That timing worked creepily well," Achilles remarks.
"Yeah, it really did. Was that planned, or something?" Jason asks.
"It was not planned," Hermes retorts, "I'm just always right." I get to my feet, picking up my ax and stepping carefully around several others.
"Always right, su-OW!" Another ax comes flying at me, the wooden handle hitting me in the stomach and knocking me over. Hestia puts her hands to her face, looking guilty but giggling at the same time.
"Sorry!" She squeaks. Grumbling, I pull the ax off of me and push myself to my feet, carelessly tossing it to the side. It goes flying into Achilles, who stumbles and knocks over Jason, who drops his ax, which skids across the ground and trips Ares, who thinks it would be really funny to reach over and yank Hermes down with the rest of us, who then decides to super-speed away with Ares still clinging to his ankle.
Odysseus then decides that's enough ax-throwing for today.
All divinites possess the power to curse other beings, be they animals, mortals, or other deities.
Hey. Maybe this book was worth reading after all. Athena gave it to me, telling me I had to stop almost killing people with my "fire hocus pocus" ("Fire hocus pocus"? Seriously? Where did she come up with "fire hocus pocus"?), and that this book was recommended by Professor Hecate. I told her I was fine, I didn't need it. Then I tried to sigh flippantly and lit her math binder on fire. And it's not like I'm into cursing people, but it could be helpful. It's in the "Dark Magic" chapter, so it's definitely not something Hecate will be teaching us at school. I may as well figure out how to do it myself.
"Watcha readin'?" Hermes sings in my ear, intent on annoying me since he can't go make out with my sister.
"Um, I don't know. I never really looked at the title," I admit, flipping it over. How To Control Powers So You Don't Almost Kill People With Your Respective Hocus Pocus.
"What the actual fuck...?" Hermes muses, puzzling his way through the long and ironically accurate title.
"Yeah, it's a really weird book," I reply, "but it says we can curse people. That's kinda cool. I wonder how-"
"No!" He cuts me off, "No, no, no, no, no! You need to stay as far away from any type of magic as possible."
"Well, look who's talking!" I counter.
"What do you mean? I'm perfect," He says.
"Uh-huh. Says the guy who ran through an entire line of archers while swinging an ax," I shoot back.
"So, anyway, about this cursing thing...," He attempts to change the subject.
"Well played," I tell him, turning my attention back to How To Control Powers So You Don't Kill People With Your Respective Hocus Pocus. "It says all divinities have the power to curse other beings, but it doesn't say how."
"Okay, well, this discussion is about books, and I'm bored, so I'm just gonna go over there." With that, he walks away and flops down on his bunk. I turn my eyes back to the book, searching for more on the topic of cursing. Curses are usually relative to the divinity's powers. Nope, that's not helpful. Perhaps the most well-known curse is that of Echo, placed upon her by Hera, allowing her only to repeat what others say. That's not it, either. Suddenly, Hermes rockets straight up in his bunk. Oh, gods, this should be good. "Guys, what if the whole world simultaneously said 'mayonnaise'?" There's a collective sigh from the entire cabin.
"Go to sleep, Hermes," Achilles tells him.
"I just realized, without nipples, boobs would just be butt cheeks that don't poop," Hermes says, his eyes wide, as if this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to him.
"Hermes, are you okay?" Jason asks.
"No, Jason, I'm not okay! I just realized that nipples are basically fancy butt cheeks, and my whole world has been turned upside-down!" I sigh, turning my eyes back to the book. Early curses, historic curses, fatal curses. No, no, no.
"Apollo...?" Ares's voice pulls me out of the book.
"Yeah?" I reply.
"Why are you aggressively flipping pages?" He asks.
"I'm trying to figure out how to curse people," I explain.
"And you're doing that by aggressively flipping pages?" Perseus replies.
"No," I sigh, "I figured the book might tell me. But, clearly, it doesn't."
"Just try waving your hands and saying magic words," Hercules suggests. Now I know why he never talked, I think to myself, he really doesn't have anything intelligent to say.
"That's actually not such a bad plan," Ares muses.
"Ready guys? One, two, three. MAYONNAISE!" Hermes shouts. The rest of us ignore him.
"For the sake of the rest of the world, if you're gonna try cursing someone, make it him," Achilles pleads, jerking his head towards Hermes. I shrug, waving my arms wildly in the air and shouting nonsense words. We wait expectantly. Nothing happens.
"Well, I guess it didn't work," Ares says.
"Yeah, I'm not so good at the whole 'magic' thing," I admit.
"I'VE GOT THE MAGIC IN ME!" Hermes shouts, "EVERY TIME I TOUCH THAT TRACK IT TURNS INTO GOLD!" There's a moment of confused silence.
"I give up," Ares sighs.
"BUT YOU GOTTA GET UP AND TRY, TRY, TRY!" Hermes sings.
"Can you stop?" Perseus requests irritably.
"PLEASE DON'T STOP THE MUSIC!" Hermes replies.
"Um, Apollo?" Jason says. We all turn to him expectantly. "I think your curse worked."
"Wha-wha-wha-wha-what did you say?" Hermes demands, although it's not very menacing, considering he's singing Jason Derulo's "Whatcha Say". I gulp nervously.
"Um, I may have accidentally cursed you so you can't do anything but sing," I mutter hurriedly. Oh, gods, if looks could kill. "But, on the bright side, you can't do anything but sing, so you can't yell at me!"
"I see you driving 'round town with the girl I love, and I'm like, 'Fuck you'!" He hisses.
"Wait, so he actually can't do anything but sing?" Ares questions.
"I guess so. I mean, I don't know much about the whole 'cursing' thing," I admit.
"Do you have any idea how annoying that's gonna get?" Ares groans. Hermes looks like he has a few choice words for him, but can't say them, due to the curse.
It's on about the seventeenth reprise of "Gangnam Style" that I realize Ares is right. This is getting really annoying, really fast.
"...here's my number, so call me maybe!" Hermes sings half-heartedly, looking like he wants nothing more than to stop. It isn't his fault, really, Achilles suggested we call Iris to send Zeus a message and ask what to do, and that set him off. "Before you came into my life I missed you so bad, I missed you so bad, I missed you so, so bad..." It's one o'clock in the morning, Hermes hasn't shut up since seven, and we're all exhausted.
"If I had enough energy, you would've died a million painful, bloody deaths tonight," Ares warns me, his hands covering his ears in a vain attempt to block out Carley Rae Jepsen's hit single.
"Kill me, too," Perseus groans.
"Look, it isn't all my fault," I attempt.
"I threw a wish in the well, don't ask me, I'll never tell..." Hermes starts back at the beginning again.
"How is it not your fault?" Jason asks impatiently.
"Well, I mean, Athena gave me the book," I mutter. Achilles jumps up, eyes wide.
"The book!" He cries, "Maybe it'll tell us how to undo the curse!"
"Already tried that," I groan, "three times. It's a really uninformative book."
"A, B, C, it's easy as one, two, three," Hermes sings. This continues until the bell rings for breakfast. We stumble out of the cabin, Hermes still singing "ABC". Jason suggests asking Odysseus for help, but I say no, Odysseus will kill me if he finds out. Consequently, Achilles adds, the whole cabin will get punished. So, it's decided that no one will tell Odysseus, and if they do, we'll make them eat one
of Ares's socks. That sufficiently shuts everyone up, even Ares.
We make it through breakfast without any questions as to why Hermes is singing Ke$ha (Ares says he forgot to brush his teeth, and, well, before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack). It's once we get to sword-fighting, however, that people realize something's up.
"...by twisting your sword, you can send the opponent's sword out of their hand..."
"Pedicure on our toes, toes, boys blowin' up our phones, phones-"
"...knock it across the arena-Hermes, what are you doing?" Odysseus asks impatiently, lowering his sword. Hermes blushes bright red, and the rest of us cringe.
"Don't stop, make it rock, DJ blow my speakers up!" Is his reply.
"Alright," Odysseus says, crossing his arms, "what's going on?"
"Um...," I mutter, trying to come up with a believable lie. "Well, you see, we were playing truth or dare last night, and I dared him to go through an entire day singing mortal pop songs." Odysseus rolls his eyes.
"You kids get weirder and weirder every day. Anyway, as I was saying..."
"Nice save," Achilles mutters.
"Yeah, but what are we gonna say tomorrow?" I reply.
"The sun'll come out, tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar, that tomorrow, there'll be sun!" Hermes sings. Achilles shrugs.
"Maybe it'll wear off by then," He says hopefully.
"I doubt it," I whisper back, "Hera's curse on Echo never wore off."
"Peel away the cobwebs and the sorrow..."
"Was Hera's curse on Echo this fucking annoying?" Achilles demands. No, I think bitterly to myself.
"Oh, c'mon. It's not that bad," I try to reason with him.
"When I'm stuck with a day, that's grey, and lonely, I just stick up my chin, and grin, and say: The sun'll come out, tomorrow..."
"Yes it is!" He hisses.
"Alright, everyone, pair up and practice!" Odysseus instructs. Hermes turns to me, pushing the edge of his sword against my neck. The menacing gesture is completely undermined by the happy-go-lucky showtune he's singing.
"Oh no, no, no," Ares growls, "I'm taking Fairy Feet."
"Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you, tomorrow. You're always a day away," Hermes sings nervously, taking a step back. Ares tells him he's a day away from being hospitalized, and raises his sword angrily. Hermes drops his weapon on the ground and takes off. Ares follows the singing blur in dizzying circles around the sword-fighting platform, and the rest of us watch, amused. Tomorrow is an interesting soundtrack to put with a high-speed chase. While we watch their antics, Athena steps over to me.
"Did you accidentally curse him?" She asks, jerking her head towards Hermes.
"What?" I cry, "Of course not! What made you think that? I can't believe you would accuse me of-"
"I know how to fix it."
"I'm listening." She raises her eyebrows, smirking. "I mean, not that I cursed him, or anything. Just for, you know, future reference." She rolls her eyes, before telling me Asclepius has a remedy for curses in the infirmary. I have to be careful, though, because he keeps it locked in a safe in his office. Some curses have to be permanent (Hera's curse on Echo, her own curse on Arachne, etc.), so it's important no one gets the remedy. The passcode for the safe is 1526, but I'll have to sneak in at night, because there's no way he'll leave the safe unguarded and just let me into his office. I ask her how she knows this. She says she knows everything. She then continues to tell me the safe is actually hidden beneath the office, guarded by a hundred dragons that spray scalding water instead of fire. No one can get past them without the magic word, which is "penis". But it doesn't work unless you scream it loud enough for the entire camp to hear.
"Alright," I cut her off, "now you're lying."
"It's true!" She says, barely hiding a smile.
"Yeah," I scoff, "sure."
That night, as soon as dinner lets out, we devise a plan back in our cabin.
"Well, we can't all go," Achilles reasons, "it's kinda hard to sneak around with seven people." We used to be nine, but Dionysus and Hephaestus left.
"Apollo should go," Perseus says. I'm about to be flattered that he chose me when he says, "This is his fault, anyway. If any of us are gonna get caught and punished, it should be him."
"Gee, thanks," I mutter.
"We should send someone else, too," Jasons suggests, "you know, as back-up."
"I'll go," Ares nominates himself, "there's no way I'm staying up all night listening to Imagine Hydras, or whatever."
"Some nights I stay up, cashing in my bad luck," Hermes sings.
"Imagine Dragons," I correct. Hermes's has been singing It's Time ever since Odysseus dismissed us from fourth period, and told us it was time for lunch.
"Hey, Apollo," Ares says, "look." He holds out his empty palms. "These are all the fucks I give." I roll my eyes.
"You're so funny," I tell him sarcastically, "are we gonna go, or do you not give any fucks about that, either?" We decide to wait until the bell rings for curfew. During that time, we get dressed in all black, admittedly mostly for dramatic effect. Hermes looks devastated at being left out of any kind of sneaking around or rule-breaking, but with his constant singing, there's no way we'd be able to get into the infirmary unnoticed.
BONG! BONG! BONG!
"That's curfew," Ares whispers urgently, grabbing his sword, and tucking it into his belt loop. I reach for my own blade and do the same. It's a very basic sword, a simple leather handle and a generic silver blade, not intricate and decorative like Ares's. It's of average length and width, too, not abnormally long and thin like Hermes's. It's served me well, though. "Ready?" Ares asks.
"Yup," I reply, "let's go." We slip out of the cabin and into the darkness, our black outfits helping hide us in the cover of the night. "Wait, is that a person?" I ask nervously, pointing at a silhouette I can barely make out against the pitch black sky.
"Shhh," Ares commands, stepping closer and peering at the silhouette. "No, idiot, that's a target. We're near the shooting range." I mentally picture camp from a bird's eye view. The boy's cabins are on the East side. The shooting range is on the West. We've passed the dining pavilion, which is good, since there's usually one or two people in there sneaking food. We could have easily been caught. The infirmary is near the shooting range. All that lies between us and the end of "Training Camp: The Musical" is the dance studio, locked up and abandoned during the school year. We hurry past it and in through the infirmary doors, always unlocked in case of emergency.
There aren't many patients there, and most are asleep. The stench of blood and healing salves is thick in the air, but, as the god of healing, I don't mind it. We walk towards Asclepius's office door, our hands curled instinctively around the hilts of our swords.
"Apollo?" A soft voice floats through the darkness. It's not Ares, that's for sure. "What are you doing?" The voice is stronger now, and I recognize it.
"Nothing, Arty," I reply, "we just need to steal something."
"Oh, right," She says, "Athena told me all about it. You cursed Hermes, and now you have to break into the infirmary to get the remedy. Well, be careful of the dragons. They'll only calm down if you say 'penis' really-"
"Loud, I know," I cut her off, "loud enough for the whole camp to hear. Athena told me everything. Go to sleep. If all goes well, Hermes will be back tomorrow to make out with you. If not-"
"Oh gods, don't talk about 'if not'," Ares cuts me off, "let's just go. Later, Artemis."
"Have fun!" She calls softly. We walk over to the door and try the handle. Ares curses.
"It's locked!" He hisses angrily. "I'd break it off, but that'd be way too loud."
"I could try melting the lock," I suggest.
"Normally, I wouldn't let you do any magic whatsoever for fear of my life, but we're desperate," He decides. "Give it a go." I raise my hand and conjure as much heat as I can. Slowly, a soft sizzling emanates from the metal knob. It grows louder, and I register the sound of hot liquid hitting the ground. I try the door again.
"We're in," I tell him. We slip in through the door, and he goes to flick on the light. "Don't!" I hiss urgently, "You'll wake up all the patients!"
"Well, how, exactly, do you expect to see?" He snaps. I wave my hands in the air, producing a small flame. It bathes the room with a dim glow, enough for us to see the safe in the corner. I hurry over to it and hold the flame up to the keypad.
"One, five, two, six," I mutter to myself, hitting the buttons. Nothing happens. I furrow my brow. "That should've opened it," I say, in confusion, "I don't know why-AAAAHHH!" And, suddenly, the floor opens up beneath us. We're falling into darkness, with no bottom in sight. I am going to kill Athena, I think angrily to myself.
"Nice job, Sunny D!" Ares shouts. Sunny D, I think to myself, that's new.
We hit the ground with a jarring thud, and for a moment, I don't think I can move. The ground is cold and hard, and my body slams to a stop on solid cement. I'm amazed I didn't break anything. Cautiously, I stand up and look around, to no avail. It's pitch black.
I should probably point out that Daedalus has an unhealthy obsession with labyrinths. He currently teaches woodshop at MOHS, and he gets very bored. So, in his spare time, he builds labyrinths. Lots and lots of labyrinths. One of them spans all the way through Olympus, underground. It's meant as a hiding spot, for supplies or precious items.
"Ares?" I call, my voice echoing against the walls.
"Yeah?" Comes his answer.
"Do you know where we are?" I ask.
"No idea," He replies.
"I think we're in the Olympian Labyrinth," I inform him.
"Is that the big-ass maze thing we fell into when we were playing with the buttons on the palace elevator?" He groans.
"Yes," I reply, "it's the 'big-ass maze thing'." The Olympian Labyrinth should not be confused with the Cretan Labyrinth. There's no minotaur in this one, just a lot of weird shit from our parents's childhood. We found terrifying old photographs of Dad's Goth phase when we fell in last time. The Olympian Labyrinth is separated into chambers, and each door is clearly marked. It's not meant for people to get lost in, just for storage. I'm assuming the room we found was marked "Things We Don't Want Our Kids To Find", but I was three at the time, and couldn't read. That's why we pressed the button labeled "Olympian Labyrinth-DO NOT PRESS" in the first place. Well, actually, it had been Hermes's idea. He couldn't read, either (and still can't), but had figured out big red letters generally meant you shouldn't do something. Which, in his mind, translated to, "Do it! What's the worst that could happen?" The scarring pictures were the answer.
"What's in here?" Ares asks, "Oh, gods, not more pictures!"
"I'm assuming it's the remedy," I answer. "Athena said it was well-protected."
"I can't see for shit," He groans, "wanna do some of that fire hocus-pocus?"
"'Fire hocus-pocus'," I mutter to myself, conjuring a ball of light, "Why does everyone call it 'fire hocus-pocus'?"
"Make it bigger," Ares instructs, "that's not really helping." I stretch my hands out, and the ball grows, illuminating the whole chamber.
"Oh, shit."
The chamber is much bigger than "Things We Don't Want Our Kids To Find". It's about the size of a hallway at MOHS, but it's not lined with lockers. It's lined with dragons. Every possible inch of space in occupied by a giant, scaly monster, save for the bit of ground at one end we're standing on. One snorts in his sleep, and scalding water drips out of his mouth, the steam visibly rising. Slowly, the dragons start to wake.
"Well," Ares says helpfully, "this is going to be lots of fun." I take a deep breath, my face turning red at the thought of what I'm about to do.
"PENIS!" I scream. Nothing happens. Well, I guess the only moderately helpful part was a lie, I think bitterly to myself. Ares gives me a weird look. "Athena said 'penis' was the magic word."
"And you believed her?" He asks incredulously, shaking his head. Suddenly, a stream of hot water flies at us. We jump to the side, barely missing the boiling substance. Ares draws his sword.
"Got a plan?" I ask.
"Run and chop off as many heads as possible." With that, we bolt into the crowd of monsters, swords at the ready. I'm drenched in scalding water almost immediately, but I force myself to ignore the pain. It's no worse than twenty reprises of "Friday", I remind myself. I swing my sword, listening for the squelch of a head popping off its shoulders. It comes, and I feel dragon blood splatter across my face.
Suddenly, a tail comes swinging at me from behind, and knocks me over. I'm on my back, cold cement hitting me hard in the head. A warm flow of red, my own red this time, trickles down the back of my neck. My vision spins and blurs. When the chamber finally comes back into focus, I see a cavernous mouth closing in. Instantly, I raise my sword and drive it into the roof of the dragon's mouth. Blood spurts everywhere, and I yank my blade out from its position.
More dragons are advancing, but I risk a glance at Ares to see how he's faring. Two scaly corpses lie at his feet, each without a head. He swings his sword, and another body joins them. He glances back at me, and his eyes widen.
"Apollo, look out!" He cries. I duck down just in time. A spiked tail barely misses my head, and instead embeds itself in the side of another dragon. The two stumble about, stuck together, and I slice the head off one. The other one now finds itself attached to a dead corpse. Another blow from my sword leaves him just like his newly conjoined friend. "This isn't working!" Ares shouts, "There's too many!" I nod in agreement. Many dragons are dead on the ground, but twice that amount are very much alive, and hungry. I'm losing blood, fast, and Ares looks pretty beat up. A heavily bleeding gash runs up his arm, and he's drenched in scalding liquid. Hot substances don't affect me, but he's sure to have some pretty severe burns. We won't last much longer.
I drop my sword. It hits the ground with a clatter, and I'm completely weaponless. Squeezing my eyes shut, I raise my arms and concentrate all the energy in my body.
BANG!
The chamber is in flames. An explosion rings out, each dragon meeting the same fiery death. Ares and I have been blown back against the wall, and I do my best to keep the fire away from us. I stare at my own hands in disbelief.
"Where did that come from?" Ares demands.
"I-I don't know," I reply, "I've never done that before." We wait for the fire to die down, then slowly get to our feet. There isn't a single live dragon in the chamber. The floor is blackened and burnt, but the color abruptly changes back to grey a foot from the wall we were huddled against. I guess I did a pretty good job keeping the fire at bay. The room is illuminated by the small flames still licking the wings and tails of dragons, and a small piece of the chamber wall was blown off by the explosion. I pick it up, running my fingers along the edges. "Hold on, Ares!" I call, "I think this piece of the wall has hinges!" He runs over and examines it.
"So, if the remedy's in here, it was hidden behind this door, which was disguised as part of the wall," He says. I nod. "So, all we need to do is find the hole in the wall! Easy!" He cries happily. What he doesn't take into account is that the chamber is huge, and the flames are dying. We don't have much light to search with. I try conjuring another ball of light, but all I can manage is a pathetic spurt of fire that quickly goes out. I guess the explosion exhausted my powers.
"You know, the explosion could've destroyed the remedy completely," I point out. He turns around and glares at me.
"Don't say that," He commands. We continue searching. I find a hole in the wall that the broken slab fits into perfectly, but the remedy was either destroyed or blown across the room, because it's nowhere near the hole. My eyes scan the floor, suddenly coming across a small, canvas sack.
"Hey, Ares!" I call, "I think I found it!" He runs over. "I don't know, though," I warn him, "it could be a baby dragon, or a giant cockroach, or the remedy could not be in here at all, or-"
"Swiggity swag, what's in the bag?" He cuts me off, bending down and scooping it up off the blackened ground. I roll my eyes at his immaturity. He reaches down inside the bag and produces a small, glass vial filled with purple liquid. He holds it up close to his face and squints to read the tiny handwriting.
"Curse remedy," He reads. "Warning: Consult your doctor before taking if you are pregnant, on medication, or otherwise handicapped. Side effects may include swelling of the legs or arms, upset stomach, and decrease or loss of hearing or sight. Consult your doctor if you experience dizziness or death."
"Wait," I cut him off, "how would you consult your doctor if you experience death?"
"I think the more important question is: How are we gonna get out of here?" Ares replies. I look up, expecting to see a hole leading back up to the infirmary. But the floor of Ascelpius's office has closed back up again. I realize then that the floor didn't cave in, it slid to the side. Then, it probably slid right back into place. The walls are perfectly smooth, providing for no handholds or ways to climb out.
"We could make a rope out of dragon tails," I suggest.
"That is such a terrible idea," Ares replies.
"We could scream until someone hears us," I suggest.
"Yeah, okay," Ares replies, "I've got nothing better." We start screaming.
"HELP!" I cry, as loud as possible.
"WE'RE STUCK IN A CHAMBER OF DEATH WITH DRAGON CORPSES AND THEY SMELL!"
"YEAH, LIKE, WORSE THAN ARES!"
"I'M GONNA PRETEND I DIDN'T HEAR THAT! HELP US!" Suddenly, we're flooded with light. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for them to adjust to the brightness, before opening them and peering upwards. The floor has opened up again, and a girl leans down over the edge.
"Need some help?" She calls. I've never been gladder to see my sister in my life.
"Yes!" I shout, "Do you have a rope?" She tells us to wait, then disappears for a moment. When she returns, she's empty-handed.
"There's some rolls of gauze," She says, "but I don't think those would support a human."
"You could tie together some sheets," I suggest.
"Apollo, you can't even climb the rope in gym class," She points out.
"I could climb up and then pull him in," Ares cuts in. And so it's decided. Artemis leaves to get the sheets, and a few minutes later, a long, white line drops over the edge. Ares grasps the crude rope and starts making his way up it. It slips a few times, what with Ares being rather large for a fourteen-year-old, and Artemis being rather small. But, eventually, he makes it to the top and takes the sheets from Artemis.
"Alright," He calls, "grab on, I'll pull you up." I grip the rope for dear life, and hold on as I'm hoisted out of the chamber, clutching the remedy. My feet hit solid ground, and I'm bathed in proper light, the stench of dragon dung and death finally gone. I'm bleeding profusely and seeing black spots, but in my hand, I clutch the end of Gangnam Style.
"Apollo, you're bleeding!" Artemis exclaims.
"I'm fine, Artemis," I assure her.
"My ears are bleeding!" Ares cries, "Let's go!" We help untie the sheets and put them back where they belong, then I make sure Artemis gets safely back into her cot. After that, we bolt for the cabin, certain that the others have been stuck listening to Some Nights since we left. Sure enough, we can hear, "...I could use some friends for a change. And some nights I'm scared you'll forget me again..." from outside the cabin.
I stumble up the stairs, my head wound finally getting to me. Ares pushes the door open, and we step into the cabin.
"What the fuck happened to you?" Achilles cries. We must look pretty bad. My hair is caked with blood, Ares is burnt everywhere, and we're both sweating profusely and drenched in hot water.
"We...got it," I pant, holding up the purple liquid. Perseus grabs it and shoves it down Hermes's throat during one of the "Oooooh"'s of Some Nights.
He swallows it, and we wait expectantly for him to burst out into song again. He looks me in the eye.
"Hey, guys, did you ever notice that 'boobytrap' backwards is 'partyboob'?" He asks. I sigh.
"Yup, he's back."
Training camp passes pretty quickly, after that. Our days are occupied by exhausting training sessions, leaving our muscles burning and our skin coated in sweat. Everyone is busily preparing for the war. Meal times are shortened and common time is all but nonexistent. We go from sword fighting, to archery, to ax-throwing, to survival skills, to monster fighting, to weaponry, and back to sword fighting to repeat the process. Artemis, who was originally disappointed to be left out of training, realizes how lucky she is when we come to visit her in the infirmary, sweating and exhausted. Going back to school and parting ways, which used to sound so undesirable, is suddenly favorable to staying at camp.
Surprisingly enough, Odysseus never finds out about the curse. Asclepius has a fit when he finds the dead dragons, and comes running through the pavillion during lunch, demanding to know who killed his precious angels. But no one owns up to the terrible crime, and Odysseus sends him to the staff house to get some rest. He then assures the crowd of confused campers the Asclepius is just a bit stressed from working all hours of the night, and hasn't been getting much sleep lately, so we must forgive him if he's being a bit weird. The boys and I exchange knowing glances, then go back to eating, the picture of innocence.
Our two weeks at training camp turn to one, one week turns to a few days, a few days turns to our last twenty-four hours, and that turns to standing at the entrance, waiting for the bus. A chariot from Brightwood comes to pick Hermes up, and we say our goodbyes. He and Artemis kiss for all eternity, the boys bro-hug and high-five, and he boards the chariot and rides away, our last shred of normalcy going with him. At training camp, we could pretend everything was the same. We could pretend everything was just like it was, before Persephone was raped and Hermes was abused and Jane Belmont jumped off a cliff and Hermes switched schools and Prometheus threatened to take over Olympus. But, as Hermes and the Brightwood chariot disappear, the realization that nothing is the way it was hits us again.
Then the bus shows up, Persephone gives Jason one last tearful hug, and we bid goodbye to training camp. The ten of us clamber onto the bus and start on our journey back to hell. Oh, I'm sorry. I meant high school.
Same thing.