Percy

XI

Winter 2010

Once everyone was in a functional state, we packed up our remaining supplies and started to trek through the field. Dakota used the stars to point us eastward and, luckily, it only took us fifteen minutes of walking to get to a road.

We walked along the side of it in the hope that, eventually, it would lead us to some form of civilization. Somewhere that had a place we could sleep for a few hours and some food as well: we were running dangerously low on CLIF bars at this point.

"I'm pretty sure we're still in the Midwest," Dakota said as we continued on the gravel shoulder.

It wasn't long before we stumbled across the first sign of civilization: a sign saying we were five miles away from Carthage.

"I have a feeling this isn't the Carthage I read about in the history books," Gwen said.

"Wasn't Carthage a part of the Roman Empire?" I asked, feeling vague recollection of having to learn it in a class a long time ago.

Gwen nodded. "The Romans fought the Carthaginians in the three Punic Wars, destroying the city of Carthage when victorious in the last war and enslaving most of the people. After that, the Romans took control of it because it was a useful port city for trading on the northern coast of Africa."

"Seems like a pretty rough go for the Carthaginians," I muttered under my breath.

Gwen cracked a little smile. "Yeah, it's a pretty brutal story. Luckily, I feel like the city's namesake has a less brutal history attached to it."

Sure enough, it didn't take us long to find ourselves at the city limit: Carthage, Missouri. Population 14,000.

Bobby scowled. "Great, we're in Missouri—a state so desolate that it was basically was named 'misery.'"

The place wasn't all that bad though: it was exactly what you would expect of a small town in the Midwest at 8 p.m. The strip of buildings looked quaintly antiquated, with small storefronts showing off dark interiors with Sorry, We're Closed! signs flipped to face outward on the doors.

Bobby's stomach audibly grumbled as he longingly looked into a closed ice cream shop. "Is anything open here?"

It was starting to feel a little hopeless, passing a closed Mexican restaurant after another closed café. We ended up in front of the one building that stood out drastically against the rest. A white building with spires that looked vaguely like a princess' castle: something you'd see in a children's book. I couldn't make out the letters on the sign, but Dakota said that it was a courthouse.

Looking as dejected as a group of teenagers with nowhere to go could look—frankly, we fit in with all the local teenagers we'd passed who were steeped in small town boredom—we sprawled out on the front steps of the building.

Melody huffed from a few feet away. "Okay, so what now?"

She had been avoiding me for the last couple of hours since we'd packed up our interim just-fallen-from-the-sky camp. She'd walked close next to Bobby the whole way and had been a little standoffish with me, making me feel even worse about bringing anything up.

Instead, I'd been left to walk with Hazel the whole time, who wasn't particularly chatty; I actually appreciated the quietness for the journey.

Dakota rubbed his hands through his hair. "We could try to borrow a car."

"You mean steal," Mel shot back without a second of hesitation, her tone casual. She shrugged. "Maybe we can get something nicer than a minivan this time."

Bobby sat with his head against his knees. "Sure, sure, whatever. I don't care. Can we focus on the pressing issue? I'm starving. Hazel, hand me a CLIF bar."

"We don't have any left," Hazel replied with a groan.

"You all seem like a hungry bunch of travellers."

Our heads all snapped up at the sound and we jumped to our feet. Riptide was gripped tightly in my hand, the bronze of the sword faintly glowing against the dark evening ambience. Gwen had her spear raised and Dakota had drawn his sword, pointing it in the direction of the speaker.

The woman smiled warmly. "Do not worry, I'm not going to hurt you."

Mel narrowed her eyes. "That is exactly what someone who was going to hurt us would say."

The woman smiled playfully. She had dark skin and she was dressed in a patterned green and yellow dress that went all the way down to her ankles. Her hair was braided into cornrows with little golden clips decorating the individual braids. "Not very trusting? Don't worry, my queen is known for being very hospitable."

"What kind of queen would choose to live in Missouri?" I asked incredulously. "I mean, you'd think she'd consider Chicago at least."

The woman's brow furrowed, as if she was confused. "I know not of this Chicago you speak of, but we have a warm place for you to stay the night and more than enough food to go around."

Without a second thought, Bobby lowered his weapon and took a couple steps in the woman's direction. Gwen grabbed his wrist and hissed. "Stop, it seems like a trap."

Bobby shrugged, likely thinking more with his stomach than with his brain. "So what if it is? Do you see any better options out here for us?"

Unfortunately, he had a point. Reluctantly, we followed his lead and approached the front door of the building. The woman greeted us with a warm smile. "Poor boys and girls, you seem to have had some difficult travels."

"You can say that again," Dakota whispered under his breath from beside me.

She led us in through the entryway then started to take us down a hall. The walls were painted with murals depicting the town's history—civil war imagery and depictions of the historical town center. At least, that's how it started, but as we continued down the hallway, I saw the image of a hero with an arrow stuck in his bloody heel, and another of a body being dragged by a chariot outside a city wall. A little further on, there was a giant horse at the city gates, then the city was on fire. Lastly, a man carrying his father on his back with his child holding his hand while they fled the flames.

Dakota's brows knit together as he whispered. "Why would they put the Trojan war on the walls?"

For the first time, he looked at me with an expression that wasn't disdain. My eyes flicked to the walls and then back to him, my voice barely audible. "Something's off."

Things got weirder. I saw the image of the Empire State Building surrounded by an army all around it's base. An image of a golden eyed man with blonde hair standing at the edge of a chasm that had opened up on a bridge. I got this horrible pit in my stomach, as if I knew who he was and that the circumstances under which I knew him weren't exactly happy, but the memory hung out of reach like a lost name on the tip of my tongue. I shook my head and tried to move past it.

Then the air completely left my lungs and I stopped moving suddenly when I saw the image of someone who looked just like me—a boy in battle armor with black hair and green eyes on a pegasus as black as midnight itself. I wanted to put it down to mere coincidence, I choked on the thought because I knew, somehow, that it was me. In my life from before I could remember. I couldn't explain why or how, but I was certain that I was looking at a painting of myself.

Dakota looked at the image with his eyes widening before shooting me an accusatory look like, who the hell ARE you?

I wanted to protest that I was just as confused as he was when the woman leading us down the hall loudly pushed through a set of doors into a well-lit courtroom. "We have guests!"

Of course, it had all the traditional set-up of a courtroom, but it was barely recognizable as a place of law. Beautiful tapestries hung along the walls, glittering in the shimmering flames of many lit candles. The lawyers' benches were covered in a mouth-watering spread of food: roasted and cured meats, a platter of fresh fruit, fresh breads, and delicious smelling stewed beans. There was a person playing the lyre and singing from the corner.

At least sixty people milled around the room chatting amicably and laughing. There were armed guards standing around in armor, keeping an eye on everything but also chatting with guests. However, the person of most notice was a gorgeous dark-skinned black woman who was sitting on a velvet throne chair in the place a judge would usually take during a trial.

She had a regal look on her face that demanded respect from anyone who gazed upon her. Her black hair was braided intricately around her head, her skin seeming to glow against the bright orange of her lavish dress. She must have only been five or six years older than me, but she had a tough look that made me want to bow down to her.

She looked over at us, raising her wine glass to her lips slowly to take a sip before addressing us. "Uninvited guests?"

Her tone was amused, but there was a dangerous subtext lurking underneath. All of the conversation in the room came to a halt the second she spoke. Every set of eyes turned to face us: a crew of banged up, dirty teenagers who had just taken a tumble from the sky a few hours before.

Melody stepped forward and bowed slightly. "I'm sorry if we have offended you with our presence. We have had a difficult journey and were offered to perhaps be granted your highness' most gracious hospitality."

It took everything in me to not look at Mel as though she'd grown a second head because I have never heard her sound so proper in the days I've known her. Snarky? Impertinent? That, I am used to.

The woman smiled softly. "I am a bit partial to those who have experienced difficulties in travel. You know, I fled my home country as a young woman after my husband was murdered and I made a treacherous journey across the land to a lovely place where I started a city from nothing."

Dakota twitched uncomfortably for a half second, as if something had just clicked in his mind. His eyes started to dart around the room in a subtle way, as if he was looking for an emergency escape route.

Hazel looked at the queen adoringly. "That's like, really girl boss of you."

The queen looked taken aback for half a second before Melody stepped in. "What she means to say is that, as young women, we really admire the strength and resilience it must have taken for you to accomplish so much and overcome such hardships."

The queen smiled. "You seem like a very capable woman yourself, young lady. All of you should come eat with me; I'm happy to extend my hospitality to those in need."

A group of her servants brought forth a short table and some floor seat cushions beside the queen's throne for us to sit at before coming back with steaming plates of rice with savoury looking sauces and vegetables. They put platters of stuffed pastries and a serving bowl with stews with dumplings. The aroma in the air was so delicious it was almost intoxicating. My mouth was salivating over the prospect of eating something other than a nutrient-dense hiker's snack.

Despite his subtle apprehension earlier, Dakota's tone was casual and earnest when he said, "It's an honour to sit with the queen Dido, founder of Carthage herself."

The statement was definitely made for our benefit to warn us of something—though the name Dido meant nothing to me.

Dido's eyes sparkled. "So you have heard of me!"

Hazel nodded vivaciously. "Yes, I always considered you one of the most incredible women I read about! A queen taking charge of her own city-state in a world that only wanted men to be leaders."

"I did leave quite a little legacy, didn't I?" She was trying to hide her smile as an attempt to seem modest, but she was clearly pleased.

I couldn't help but notice that Dido was even more beautiful up close, with skin so perfect and glowy that she barely seemed real—more like a carved statue of a woman. Her high cheekbones made her expression look especially noble, but her brown eyes were full of warmth.

She caught me studying her appearance. Her lips turned up slyly. "You're a handsome boy, but I'm not going to be derailed by the charms of a man again. As queen of Carthage again, I am making sure to keep my vows."

I felt my cheeks get red at the word handsome. I stupidly blurted out. "I didn't realize towns this small had full monarchies."

Hazel scowled at me. "No, you idiot. She founded the great ancient city of Carthage!"

I flashed back to earlier when Gwen had explained the relationship between the Romans and the ancient Carthaginians and suddenly felt like we were on the edge of a conversational minefield. I was sincerely hoping that, since she had been there at the foundation of the city, she probably didn't live to see it conquered by the Romans and burned to the ground, but I decided that we should avoid that discussion topic at all costs.

Dido seemed to find it all amusing as ate a few grapes. "Yes, my former home was much more impressive than this mockery of a namesake. I came here hoping to find a city honoring the impressive fortitude of my own ancient home, but instead ended up in this dump of a place. Did you know that people add something called 'mayonnaise' to a salad here? Sometimes they even add in these disgusting crunchy preserved snacks to it. What are they called again?"

One of her handmaidens quickly responded, "They call them 'Fritos', my lady."

"Yes, Fritos! Those are absolutely vile." She made a face of disgust before returning her attention to my face. "Good-looking boys are nothing but trouble: take my word for it, ladies."

I frowned. "I wouldn't consider myself 'trouble.'"

But Dido had already refocused on Gwen, Hazel, and Mel. "You know, after my husband was murdered, I swore to never let another man into my heart. I had loved him so much that I couldn't bear to move on. I had suitors from all around flocking to have my hand in marriage—threatening war even if I wouldn't marry them—but I refused. Then, this one young man came to my city. He had also been fleeing his home country following a war and needed somewhere to stay. And, under the spell of that wretched goddess Venus, I fell in love with him."

Across the table, Gwen choked on her stew at the mention of her mother, coughing loudly. She tried to recollect herself and shakily said. "Sorry, that went down the wrong tube."

Dido seemed unfazed, continuing on after the interruption. "Yes, I fell in love with the poor young man who had also been widowed so recently. We'd both shared such similar pain in our lives that we could understand each other's sorrows. We got married and then…"

She looked away with a sorrowful expression for half a second, but when she turned back toward the girls, her eyes were steel. "Then he climbed onto his ship and tried to sail away in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye. He left me to the mercy of dozens of angry, dejected men who wanted revenge. He just disappeared after I had given up so much for him. That wretched son of Venus, that horrid Trojan man!"

Gwen's face paled. Melody jumped in to capture Dido's attention before she could notice Gwen's sickly appearance. "How horribly cruel of him. Men really ain't shit!"

"They really aren't!" Dido agreed. "And that's why, young ladies, you should never let a boy distract you from what you want to achieve. They most certainly are not worth it."

She sent a pointed look at the three guys in our group, to which Bobby indignantly said, "Hey!"

"I could not agree with you more!" Melody prattled on, leaning in like she was part of a gossip session on a reality T.V. show. "Honestly, we should send all the men in the world to the depths of Siberia. Let women have a turn running everything."

Hazel nodded emphatically. "Yes! Men have had all of history to rule things and all they've done is mess things up!"

Dido grinned back at her. "You are all such great young ladies—completely immune to the wrath of that awful love goddess."

"That's us! Three single gals living life on our own terms!" Hazel said in a way that was a little too cheerful.

Gwen was looking more and more nervous in her seat, anxiously nibbling at a pastry.

However, it was Melody that made the critical error. "Yeah, all I need are for these gods to get off my back about quests and fate and I'd be golden."

"Quest? Fate." Dido's tone was inquisitively friendly, but I knew better.

Apparently, Bobby did not. Without skipping a beat, he responded. "Yeah, we've been sent to go stop some evil guy from rising without much guidance with some doomsday prophecy about our fate."

Dido's face was a total mask, but her eyes were fiery. "Remind me, where did you guys come from?"

Before someone could stop him, Bobby replied. "This weird camp for kids of the Roman gods."

Dido suddenly tensed up. Instinctively, my hand went to my pocket when she started to talk again. "You know, I heard a rumor about my second husband. When he was leaving me, he said it was his duty to move forward because his fate was to found a new country of people. He abandoned me in the middle of the night because of a foretold "destiny". I heard another rumor in the years I spent in the Underworld before my patron brought me back to life: I heard that his settlement had grown to become a great empire. The greatest the Mediterranean had ever seen."

The music had stopped again, and all the eyes in the room were on us. Armed guards sealed poured into the courtroom, some blocking the entrance and the others closing in on us in a perimeter.

Dido's beautiful features were suddenly marred with a sneer. "I heard a rumor that they called themselves Romans."

Dakota flipped the table as he shot to his feet, creating a bit of chaos amongst the servants nearest to us as the food flew everywhere. I felt my sword grow long in my hands just fast enough for me to deflect the swing of a javelin aimed at my head. We were all forced into battle mode as the guards rushed us.

I was slashing and kicking furiously, trying to keep us from getting overwhelmed. Bobby was at my back, blocking attacks coming from the opposite side. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Melody shooting arrows and slashing at guards with her hunting knife while Dakota took on a group in a 3-1 sword fight.

We were overwhelmed, but seemed to be holding our own pretty well. However, the guards' reinforcements just kept coming. I yelled to Bobby, "We need to go out the way we came from!"

"Agreed!"

We were about to signal everyone else for the retreat when we heard a piercing scream. Gwen had a bloody javelin shoved through her side, while a group of handmaidens held her down. Dido was striding over to her with a venomous gaze.

"I could smell the presence of that witchy goddess in my throne room." Dido grabbed Gwen's head by the hair pulling her across the floor while she bled grotesquely. "A daughter of Venus delivered to my doorstep by fate for me to exact my revenge."

To my left, Bobby was shaking. He tried to push through the crowd of guards toward where Dido had Gwen, but there were too many guards in his way. He was fighting like a demon with a wild look in his eyes, trying to get to her.

Everyone else was trying too, but we were all cut off from each other and surrounded, parrying away an onslaught of attacks. Bobby knocked over a set of guards before a few others were finally able to restrain him. "Let her go!"

"You know, Venus manipulated me so that her son, Aeneas, would have a safe place to stay. She had her son trick me into loving that man—had me give myself to him—just so he could treat me like a distraction that had been disrupting his life. His destiny." Dido's tone was bitter as she spoke. "She made me love him and then made him leave me to the mercy of angry suitors I'd turned down. I threw myself onto a sword that he'd left out of the sorrow of it all. Something so unavoidable, but she just toyed with me to get her way."

The heartbreak was so clear in her voice, and to an extent, I understood it. All I knew of the gods is that Hera had snatched me from whatever life I'd had because she had an agenda to fill. She left me without a single sense of who I was just because she wanted something. All I knew of myself was a name and now a painted mural on the wall. The excruciating betrayal Dido was audible in every word she spoke, and, in a way, I felt betrayed too.

The handmaidens were rushing around, preparing some sort of altar, with an upturned sword in the middle, and I instantly knew what Dido had in store for Gwen. The horrifying thought made my sympathy crumble. I kicked a guard firmly in the chest and spun to try to figure out how to stop her.

Bobby was seething, yelling, "It's not her fault! Leave her alone, it's not fair!"

"Was what happened to me my fault? The gods have never been fair, so why should I?" Dido responded coldly.

Melody shot arrows into a couple of the servants, but the others just sped up to create the sword altar. Gwen was rapidly getting dragged closer to the creation, and it was clear that we had less than a minute before she would end up on it.

"Melody, sing!" Hazel asked frantically.

Mel's face paled like the blood had suddenly drained out of it. For the first time since I'd met her, she looked genuinely terrified. She was standing on one of the tables that had once displayed an array of food, smashing away a guard with her bow. She shakily yelled. "I can't do it!"

"You have to!"

"I can't!" Melody's voice cracked. "I can't do it alone. It doesn't work with just me!"

Hazel's tone was sharp. "It does, you're just being selfish! Do it now!"

"I can't!" She snapped back, but she sounded like she was on the verge of crying. I didn't have time to figure out what they were really arguing about as I raised my wristwatch shield to deflect a projectile javelin.

Gwen was held by four guards dangerously close to the altar. They were raising her up into the air, and preparing to position her for a fatal landing. I threw my sword like a knife, hitting the guard who was holding her left leg in the abdomen, but the others continued on, unfazed.

"Sing, Melody!" Hazel yelled again, but there was just silence apart from the roar of the crowd. Dido's party guests who hadn't joined in on the fighting were all cheering from behind, anticipating the gruesome outcome with glee.

And then it happened. I don't know if I could ever truly describe what happened in that room because it was pure insanity.

No, seriously: everyone went insane.

The blood rushed to my head like I had consumed helium. The smell of sweet grapes filled the air, and waves of energy came rippling out from Bobby. Guards started to collapse and whimper, spewing nonsensical strings of words. A handmaiden of Dido's started to flop on the ground like a fish out of water. The party guests started to scream and point at a non-existent threat descending from the ceiling, ducking to protect themselves.

The guards gently placed Gwen down on the ground in, her body in a small heap, before they started holding hands skipping away while singing a questionable rendition of a Justin Bieber song.

I looked at Bobby, who's normally playful expression was now cold as stone, his eyes looking black in the light. I'd seen these demigods flex some impressive skills and powers over the past few days, but it dawned on me now that no one was more terrifying than Bobby. He had really been underselling himself as a son of Bacchus by just saying he can throw a good party.

It was absolute mayhem in the room. Our group of demigods being the only ones unscathed by the madness. Hazel, Dakota, Melody and I looked at each other from our various locations in the room, wide-eyed as if none of us could believe what we were seeing.

I snapped my head back to the judges stand and watched Bobby make eye contact with Dido. Her eyes turned glassy, like she was in some sort of horrible trance, and she started to take rigid steps toward the altar as if she wasn't fully in control of herself. Then, under Bobby's steely gaze, she pitched her body forward violently and dropped her chest down directly onto the upturned sword.