Welcome to the third part of my version of the Apollo trials. I hope you enjoy this.
The world is full of gods and goddesses from many different pantheons. The Greek/Romans who occupied two countries. The Egyptians thrived in the land of the Nile. The Norse claimed Scandinavia as their land.
Scattered across the globe were several other pantheons. Hindu, Mayan/Aztecs, and Korea were home to many gods and mythical creatures. Places, such as West Africa and the Natives of the American Southwest, thrived with multiple gods. The Middle East had one of the oldest pantheons in recorded history.
However, one of the most popular and still believed in by many people is the pantheon of Celtic mythology. Stories from ancient Brittan, Wales, and of course, Ireland and Scotland, all melded into one ginormous family.
This pantheon was full of heroes and powerful gods and goddess, who cared not only about the land, but the people living there as well. They each served a purpose whether for good or bad, they always had the best interests for the people of their home.
One of the most famous legends is about the great hero Cúchulainn aka The Hound of Ulster. His parents were Dechtire, the mortal granddaughter of Aengus, the god of love, and Lugh, the god of craftsmanship, oaths, and law.
Born with the name Sétanta, the young demigod hero proved himself to be a fast learner and a great warrior skilled with several different weapons. He could beat the other foster boys in hand to hand competitions. He was the best hurling player around.
One day, Culann, the greatest smith in all of Ulster, invited Sétanta foster father, King Conchobar, to his house to feast. He invited his foster son to come along and the boy agrees to come after he finished playing hurling.
However, the king forgot he invited the boy to the feast and as he approached, Culann released his biggest hound to stop the intruder. Sétanta killed the hound in self-defense using a slitor, (hurling ball) and tossing it down the hound's throat with the help of his hurling stick.
Knowing how much the hound meant to Culann, the young boy agreed to be the man's replacement hound until a new one was reared. From then on he was known as Cúchulainn.
When Cúchulainn was seven years old, he heard the first part of a prophecy. The prophecy stated that if a warrior took up arms that day he would have everlasting fame. The part the boy didn't hear was the hero would live a short life.
Throughout his life, the legendary hero trained with the best teachers, such as renowned warrior-woman Scáthach. He fought many battles, even saving his home singly handily, at age seventeen, from an incursion by Queen Medb of Connacht.
He fought against several powerful foes. He took on Aife, his teacher's rival, and defeated her with trickery by saying her beloved horses had fallen off a nearby cliff. Another time he battled the Morrigan, who he affronted when she offered herself to him.
As the prophecy stated, at age nineteen the demigod was destined to die. Cúchulainn enemies conspired together to force the hero to break his geasa, a taboo, he had placed on himself. He had sworn never to eat dog meat. One day, an old crone offered him dog meat when he was in her home.
Because there was a taboo on not accepting hospitality, the hero had no choice except to eat the meat. By doing so, he was spiritually weakened and in the next battle against Lugaid, son of Cú Roí, his enemy managed to defeat the hero with the use of three magical spears.
The first spear killed Cúchulainn's charioteer Láeg, king of chariot dBrookes. The second spear killed Cúchulainn's horse, Liath Macha, the greatest horse in all of Ulster. The last spear hit Cúchulainn, mortally wounding him.
The hero tied himself to a stone to remain standing to die on his feet like an honorable warrior. As soon as Lugaid was right next to Cúchulainn, ready to behead him, the hero-light burns around the dying man.
At the same time, Cúchulainn was beheaded, the sword was released from his hand and cut off Lugaid's right arm, leaving him unable to wield a weapon properly.
According to the stories, Cúchulainn hair was held in three coils and it was also tri-colored. The base was brunette, the middle layer crimson, and the last part was gold. His eyes were gray and his skin was slightly darker than his companions.
He was smaller than others, had no beard, and despite his lithe frame, had powerful muscles throughout his body. He wore black trousers, a red tunic, and a cape. His armor included bronze chainmail over his body.
His gleaming bronze helmet fit around the top of his head and covered his nose with a thin, sturdy, strip of metal. He carried a long, rectangle, bronze shield called Dubán. The center of the shield was designed to catch the enemy's weapons before striking back.
He wielded two magical weapons. His sword, Cruaidín Catutchenn. It was sharper than any mortal sword. The other was the spear, Gáe Bulg. Made from the bone of a sea monster, the barb of a stingray, and crackling with power, he only used it as a last resort.
The weapon was always fatal and could pierce through anything. The only way to retrieve it was to cut into the enemy's body and pull it out, leaving the corpse mutilated.
Both foe and friend had to be careful when the hero entered into his battle frenzy state. He became an unrecognizable monster who tore through troops and spill enormous amounts of blood.
There was only one way to bring him out of it. Once he adverted his eyes from a person, he needed to be forced into the largest and coldest water source and held down until he came out of it.
Cúchulainn's fame was the only legacy he left behind. His wife, Emer, and he had no children together. His only living legacy was his son Connla, who was killed by his hand. Connla was the result of the hero sparing the life of Aife in exchange for a son.
Aife, angered by her humiliation, raised the boy to be the greatest warrior ever. When he was eight, she sent the boy to meet his father but forbade him from revealing his identity unless he bested Cúchulainn in combat.
Father and son were equally matched. It was only when Cúchulainn used Gáe Bulg that Connia was defeated. As the boy lay dying, he revealed his identity. The hero was left grief-stricken as his only heir died in his arms.
That is the legend of the great Celtic hero. Unless there was more to the story? Legends often leave certain details out or they've been around so long that certain parts have been forgotten.
These forgotten details are important. Especially for a Greek god turned human. He needed all the help he could get. As Lester/Apollo, Meg, and Grover made their way through the Labyrinth, they had no idea that help was coming their way from another pantheon.
Last September
In rural Maine, an eighteen-year-old girl was roaming the back trails near her house with her six-month-old Irish wolfhound puppy. She had no clear destination in mind. She just needed to clear her mind.
Her name was Brooke Sheridan. She had long auburn hair tied in a braid which went down to the middle of her back. Her eyes were hazel and she had a small nose. Her skin tone was olive.
She was slightly taller than most girls as she was 5'7. She wore a maroon long-sleeved shirt, navy pants, and purple trainers. Her robust frame suited her. It was a good thing considering how big her puppy Ulster was.
At six-months, Ulster was already eighty pounds and one and a half foot tall. His double brindle colored coat was freshly groomed and his teeth sparkled after being brushed.
His body looked similar to a greyhound, only it was longer and stockier. There was a fading scar on his belly from recent surgery. Ulster had not only been neutered but had his stomach stapled to his side to prevent bloat.
He yipped in delight as his low hanging tail wiggled furiously. He ran ahead of his owner before stopping. He looked back at her with a calm and warming expression.
"Easy Ulster. I know you want to chase down all the squirrels in the forest, but you need to wait up for me okay?" Brooke reminded him as she jiggled his leash.
Ulster whined a bit and took a few more steps before plopping down on the trail. He was a good pup exhibiting the traits the breed was known for. Being loyal, gentle, and calm demeanor.
Ulster, like many Irish Wolfhounds, was obedient when he wanted to be. He would come to Brooke at his own pace whenever she called. The same with other commands.
Brooke gave her dog a big hug and scratched his head. "Are you ready to run? Do you want to race? Come on, let's get ready."
The pup sat dignified as she unhooked him from the leash. He knew what was coming next. His owner asked if he remembered where the clearing was and he barked an affirmative.
She gave him the signal and off he went. The pup loved running up the trails at full sprint. He would often spot prey and run after it only to be scolded by Brooke. Ulster let loose a loud howl, letting her know he was still on the main path.
Since Irish Wolfhounds were originally bred to pull enemy riders off their horses before being retrained to hunt and kill wolves if necessary, they were known as sighthounds.
Letting Ulster off-leash on the back trails was not recommended. Recently, Brooke had been training him to stay on the path. If he reached a certain landmark without going off-trail, he would earn a big reward. It was usually a new toy as he was highly toy motivated.
He reached the clearing and barked twice, letting Brooke know he had arrived at his destination. A few minutes later she ran up the trail and into the clearing. "Good boy Ulster, good boy! You want your reward?"
He sat still and waited patiently for Brooke to reward him. She reached into her backpack and full out a stuffed toy and held it out for him. He waited until she gave him the take command before pouncing on the toy.
Brooke watched her dog happily chewing on his new toy. Seeing her dog playing happily in the clearing reminded she had a big choice to make.
She had graduated from high school last year. Most of her friends were attending college or had internships lined up. She was the only one taking a gap year.
"More like a life gap," she commented to herself. Looking up at the changing leaves, Brooke thought they were the perfect metaphor for her. "I have no idea what I want to do with my life."
Sensing her turmoil, Ulster came over and sat down. She joined him on the ground and leaned against him. "Going to college is the next commonsense step. First, I would have to figure out what to study.
What if I chose something that's going to take more than four years? You only have eight years of life Ulster, ten if you're super lucky. I don't want to spend a majority of that not being with you as much as possible."
Ulster nuzzled her in agreement. He loved Brooke so much! It was hard enough waiting for her to get back from high school. Would he even see her if she went to college?
"What if I don't go to college? Just enjoy being free for now. It would be awesome to have an adventure. I always wanted to travel and see as many places as I can. You could come along with me."
Ulster nuzzled her again. Being an explorer and traveling to other places sounded great to him. Looking at Brooke, he knew something was barring her from doing that.
"Mom and Dad would never go for it though. They want me to either go to college or pick a job soon. If I suggest traveling, they're going to think I'm not taking my situation seriously."
She hugged Ulster tightly letting his calm nature flow through her. She prayed for someone to show her a sign of what she was supposed to do with the rest of her life.
Back at her house, a box in the attic started to tremble. A brilliant light emitted from it. Something began banging on to the lid to the box trying to get out.
The door to the attic swung open and someone came in. The person hurried over and opened the box. There was a rush of light temporarily blinding the person.
When the person could see again, they looked down at the glimmering weapons and the gleaming armor inside. A name was etched on the top of the box.
The person trembled knowing this was a sign from the ancient gods. The sign that a new hero was needed and had already been chosen.
When Brooke returned home in the late afternoon she was surprised to see her mother waiting for her. "Mom, what are you doing here? I thought you said you were going out of town to visit a friend?"
Brooke's was nearly indistinguishable from her mom, Molly, other than the fact her mom's eyes were bright green instead of hazel.
Not only was Brooke surprised to see her mom home, she had never seen her mom dressed as she was before. Her mother was a researcher at the history museum in town. She always wore a professional suit to work.
Today, she was wearing a simple tunic dress and despite the chill in the air, ribbon tied sandals. She had a concerned look on her face.
"Mom? What's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong, Brooke. Well, generally speaking. After all, this is supposed to be a time of celebration. I just wish it wasn't you who had been chosen."
Seeing her daughter's confused expression, she beckoned the girl to follow her to the attic. Once in the attack, Molly gave her daughter a scroll. "This scroll contains the female bloodline of my family. Take a look at it and tell me what you see."
Puzzled, Brooke opened the scroll and scanned it from top to bottom. At the very top was the name Aife and below it was the name Caoimhe. She followed the names down the list.
Several names jumped out to her because they had a spear drawn next to their name. A few had a crown next to their names. Others were marked with a hammer. She traced the names down to her grandmother, Fiona.
Her grandmother had a spear next to her name. Her mother had a hammer next hers. Brooke didn't have a symbol next to her name leaving her confused. She handed the scroll back.
"Why do the names here have different symbols?"
"I'll answer that in a second, but did you notice whose name is at the top of the list?"
"Aife? Yes, but why is that important?" Brooke asked. She only knew that name because of the stories she read on Celtic mythology. "Aife was the name of the Scottish warrior woman who Cúchulainn defeat on behalf of his trainer.
He spared her life as long as she never tried to attack his trainer again and that she gives him a son. Which she did and she sent her son, Connia, to fight his father hoping her son could kill his father.
Instead, he was slain by his father and the guilt haunted the hero for the rest of his days. What does that have to do with this scroll or our bloodline?"
Her mother replied, "The Ulster Cycle stories are missing a key detail. What the stories don't mention is that Aife gave birth to twins. She sent Connla to fight his father but kept her daughter Caoimhe with her.
Aife trained her daughter to be an elite warrior and taught her how to be a heroine. After the death of Cúchulainn, he was laid to rest in his court cairn and remained undisturbed for many years.
On the night of the tenth anniversary of Cúchulainn's death, Caoimhe entered the cairn and took her father's weapons and his armor as her own. Some people heard her and tried to stop her, claiming she was a thief and grave robber.
She defended herself with Cruaidín Catutchenn and to the people's astonishment, it glowed with power. By magic, the armor and the weapons were put on her and changed to match her body.
This proved the items were her birthright. She agreed to spare the lives of her attackers as long as they never spoke about that night. They kept their word and eventually Caoimhe was forgotten."
Molly took a moment to catch her breath. Looking at her daughter, she knew the girl believe everything she was being told. The ancient blood of Lugh was asserting itself.
Brooke listened closely as her mom continued the story. The women in her family all inherited a bit of Lugh's power. The ones with the hammers next to them inherited his crafting skills. The crowns inherited his power over law and rightful leadership.
The spear was the most important symbol. They inherited his warrior abilities. Their destiny was to become heroines and stop great evils. Those evils could be mortal or magical.
"Grandma was a warrior? What evil did she face?"
Her mother's eyes turned downwards and she started to tremble. "My mother was tasked with stopping a bodach from kidnapping children in a small town. I was in my last year of college when she received her quest."
A few tears dripped down her face. "My mother didn't even tell me she had been given her quest. She didn't want to worry me. After all, how difficult could it be to defeat an Irish boogeyman?"
Brooke remembered the stories about the bodach. A mischief creature that would climb down the chimney at night and kidnap impish children. It was a cautionary story to help teach kids to behave.
"The stories never say what happens after the children are kidnapped. My mother discovered the answer. The bodach takes the children to his lair and then enchains them for their entire childhood."
"What happens when children become adults?" Brooke whispered tightly.
"Their kidnapper changes them into bodachs. They leave and start the horrific cycle all over again. My mom was slain by a recently turned bodach when she rescued the rest of the children."
Brooke felt as if someone had punched her in the gut. Her grandma had been killed by a monster! No wonder her mom hadn't told her how her grandma died before.
She barely heard her mom explain how she had locked away her inheritance and hoped that Brooke would never display any blessings from her ancient forefather.
That hope was shattered today when the ancient weapons and armor awoke, calling out for their new owner.
Molly knew that if she tried to keep her daughter away from her destiny, Brooke would end up dead because of her actions. So, she had no choice, but to train her daughter in the ancient ways of the warrior women until the gods gave a sign for what she was supposed to do.
January through mid-March
Brooke spent months training with her mom and learning more about her heritage. She memorized the entire Celtic pantheon, learned how to read, write, and speak Gaelic, and lastly, learned how to fight with or without weapons.
She had also trained Ulster to help her. He could now track, scout, and fight. The last one was the hardest one for him because he preferred to look intimidating than fight.
A week into the near year, she had felt an urge to travel. It was so strong she tried to sneak out of the house and take her parent's car. Realizing that Brooke's urges were a result of the ancient blood inside her, Molly prepared her daughter for hiking across The American Discovery Trail.
The American DiscoveryTrail is a system of recreational trails and roads which collectively form a coast-to-coast hiking and biking trail across the mid-tier of the United States. Horses can also be ridden on most of this trail.
It starts on the Delmarva Peninsula on the Atlantic Ocean and ends on the northern California coast on the Pacific Ocean. It connected to several smaller trail systems allowing a person to go wherever they wanted to on the continental USA.
The heroine and her hound started their journey in Delaware and by the end of January had made it to West Virginia's North Bend Rail Trail. The trail was built on one of the most famous railroad lines in history.
At the moment, Brooke was taking shelter inside one of the historic tunnels on the trail. It was snowing hard and she was making dinner for herself and Ulster. "Here you go boy, I hope you like eating hot stew."
"Woof!" Ulster replied. He wagged his tail and ate up his portion of the soup. Brooke patted him on the head and told him what a good boy he was. "We'll head out tomorrow if the snow's stopped. We still have a long way to go, I believe."
The urge to move was getting stronger. She wanted to be on her way, but she didn't know where she was supposed to go next. Her instincts just told her to keep heading to the west.
Brooke pulled out her map and looked at the trail ahead of her. She could take the trails that went north or south as she made her way through the Midwest. Her instincts were telling her she needed to go past the Midwest.
"If I get past the Midwest, what then? Where am I supposed to go?" she muttered to herself. She leaned back against the tunnel wall and rubbed her hands together to get some feeling back into them.
"You better go do your business Ulster. We need to bunk down soon if we're going to make it through the night."
Ulster gave an affirmative as he went off to do his business. Brooke started picking up around the camp and moving everything into her thermal tent. Her mom had spared no expense in ensuring her daughter had the best of the best.
Hopefully, I will know whether to head north or south when it comes to traveling through the Midwest, Brooke thought to herself.
January turned to February and the duo made their way from West Virginia to Ohio. After spending two nights at a motel, Brooke's instincts sent her heading south, cutting through Kentucky and the southern tip of Illinois.
Upon reaching Missouri, her instincts led her to a deserted park. She found what use to be an old concession stand. She broke in and found a tunnel that led her and Ulster to a weird underground maze.
Her instincts told her she needed to go through this maze. That when she reached the end she would find out what her quest was.
Present-day.
Brooke was cautiously making her way down a corridor. She held her camping lantern out in front of her, illuminating the way forward. By her side was Ulster. Her dog had just turned one today.
Ulster was nearly full grown. He still needed to grow a few more inches and pack on some weight. Ulster was happy to be fully groomed thanks to the last place the Labyrinth had taken them was a pet groomer shop.
"Is it just me Ulster, or is it getting hotter down here?" Brooke asked as she wiped the sweat off her forehead. She had no idea where she was in the world above.
The groomer had been in Topeka Kansas. Who knew how far the magical maze had taken her? Dimming her lantern just a bit, she continued down the path until she reached a fork in the corridor.
"Which way do we need to go Ulster?"
The Irish wolfhound started smelling the corridors. He dismissed the right tunnel and let out a soft bark indicating they should go down the left, but very slowly.
Brooke nodded and the duo went left. The further they went, the hotter it seemed to get. As the corridor narrowed, Brooke was forced to put her lantern away and remove her pack.
"We're going to need to crawl the rest of the way Ulster. It's a tight squeeze so suck in your gut. Take your time and be careful."
Ulster nodded his head and did as she asked. The two of them crawled forward at steady, but slow, pace. Ulster would move half an inch, then Brooke would push her pack forward a little, before moving herself.
They had made it about a foot and a half when Ulster's frantic barking and scrambling force Brooke to make a retreat. She couldn't have known that a hole had magically opened behind her.
She screamed as she, her pack, and Ulster fell through the dark tunnel. She flailed about trying to find something to grasp. There was nothing to stop her fall.
Suddenly she stopped falling and landed on something squishy. She heard her pack drop on something hard and Ulster let out a yelp followed by someone shouting for him to get off her.
Brooke scrambled off what she now realized was a person, snatched her pack off someone, and stood with Ulster coming to her side. She studied who she had landed on.
He was a lanky teenager wearing an orange hoodie and jeans. He had dirt on his face and his blond hair looked like it hadn't been washed recently. He also seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face.
On his right was a young man. He had two small horns on his head and his sneakers had come off revealing hoofs. Perhaps a mythical creature? Well, he couldn't be evil, considering how scared he looked.
The last one was a twelve-year-old girl in a green dress and yellow leggings. Her hair was black and she had cat-eye classes. For some reason, she was carrying a belt full of seeds.
The girl spoke first. "Who are you and what is he?" she demanded while pointing at Ulster. For some reason, the girl seemed afraid of Ulster. Perhaps she had a prior trauma involving dogs.
"My name is Brooke Sheridan. His name is Ulster and he's an Irish wolfhound. He's a rare breed in the United States. I'm guessing you haven't seen one before."
Ulster barked and sided up against Brooke. Considering his head reached the bottom of her rib cage, no one was going to hurt his favorite person. He sniffed the boy with the horns and gave him a giant lick surprising the boy.
"Nice to meet you too Ulster. Yes, I'm a strange creature. I'm a satyr and I promise I'm not going to hurt your mistress."
Ulster seemed satisfied by this and started to relax. When the satyr held out his hand to Brooke, the dog didn't react as he introduced himself as Grover.
Brooke turned to the other two people in the group. "May I know of your names?"
"Meg. This is my servant Apollo, but you can call him Lester if you want to."
"I would prefer if you call me by my given name and not that horrible name Zeus gave this pitiful human form."
Brooke recalled learning about Greek mythology in fourth grade. Apollo was the god of the sun and a dozen of other things she couldn't recall.
Apollo was eyeing her with suspicion. He probably wanted to know what she was doing in this magical maze. She was about to respond when she heard a horrible screeching noise.
Instantly, the color drained out of Apollo's face. He was trembling as the sound of several birds flapping their wings got closer. "Meg! Magic plant stuff now!"
The girl didn't ask questions. She ripped open a bag of tomato seeds and scattered them on the ground. She knelt and concentrated on the seeds as Grover played a fast tune on his panpipes.
The tomato plants sprouted and grew at a rapid pace creating a barrier. As the barrier reached completion a huge black bird flew through the hole in the barrier and racked its talons across Apollo's face.
The bird let out a loud "scree" and banked coming back towards them. Without thinking, Brooke reached into her pack and grabbed her collapsible walking stick.
Locking it into place, she swung the stick and connected with the bird's chest and hit it hard enough to send it crashing into the wall. It fell the floor and quick bark from Ulster let her know the bird wasn't dead, merely dazed.
Taking a few steps closer she saw the bird was twice as big as an owl and it was the color of obsidian. The talons were red and the beak was gold. Sticking out of it was a black tongue covered with blood.
"Please, tell me you didn't kill that Strix," Apollo gasped as he looked at the bird.
"It's not dead, just badly dazed. What's a Strix?" Brooke asked. She almost didn't hear Apollo's reply as the world around her started flooding back in.
A whole flock of Strix was attacking the tomato plant barriers. Meg slashed her scimitar at the birds, trying to scare them away as Grover looked frantically for a way up and out of the maze.
"A Strix is a dangerous bird. If you kill it, you'll be cursed. If you don't, it will disembowel you, drink your blood, and eat the flesh off your corpse. Their talons also have a paral…."
Apollo fell sideways to the ground. It appeared what the teenager had been trying to say was that the talons had a paralytic agent on them. The Strix was starting to stir as its flock started making progress on destroying the barrier.
Brooke was quickly on the ground checking the former god for any other injuries. He didn't appear to have any other injuries. "Ulster, come here!"
Ulster, who had carefully nipped off some flight feathers of the stirring Strix, trotted over to Brooke. She pulled some heavy-duty rope out of her pack and started tying up Apollo.
Grover, who had been kicking at the walls while playing his panpipes let out a shout. "I found the exit! We're going to have to climb a bit, but we can make it if we hurry."
Brooke turned her head and saw there was an ancient ramp that was leading up a circular column. There was a big gap between the bottom of the ramp and the first curving part.
Quickly, she finished tying the other end of the rope to Ulster's collar. "I know he's heavy and we haven't practiced this yet, but I know you can do it."
The dog barked and started running at full speed towards the ramp. Grover was knocked over as the dog loped past him. At the right moment, Ulster jumped leaping over the gap.
The upper half of his body landed on the other part of the ramp. Apollo was dangling under Ulster's butt and the dog struggled to climb up. He let out a little whine pleading for assistance.
"I'll help him! Get Meg!" Grover shouted as he hurried to help the massive hound.
Brooke hurried over to the barrier and grabbed Meg by the wrist. She had to block the girl's sword with her walking stick. "Come on, we need to hurry."
The girls raced up the ramp and jumped across the gap. Brooke steadied Meg so she wouldn't fall into the gap. The two of them raced up the ramp covering their friends back.
Using the flat sides of their weapons, they beat back the Strixs. When they got close to scratching them with their talons, Brooke sprayed them with a small can of bear spray she had attached to her belt.
"I don't think that's going to hold them off for long!" Brooke shouted as the birds retreated a little. "Once the spray clears away they'll be attacking us again."
"Apollo! Ask the arrow if there's any way for us to stop the Strixs!" Meg snapped.
Apollo grabbed the arrow out of his quiver, wincing as Ulster continued to drag him up the ramp, his godly head bouncing up and down, as they went.
While he argued with the arrow, the Strixs returned. The flock was larger than before. Grover commanded the girls to get behind him and he unleashed Panic. Instantly the entire room filled with the most dreadful and petrifying sound any of them had heard.
It was lucky they were all behind him otherwise they would have all run for it. Ulster was howling in fear and pain. It was taking all of Brooke's strength to keep him from bolting.
After using Panic, Grover swayed on his feet and if it wasn't for Brooke propping him up, he would have fainted.
Of course, Panic only earned them a few minutes reprieve from the birds. They were determined to kill the group. The group was reaching the final part of the ramp that led to a ladder when the birds returned.
"The arrow said something about a plant called arbutus stopping the Strixs. Do you have one of those in your belt?" Apollo asked.
Meg searched through her seed belt as Grover tried to remember what type of seed that was.
Just before the birds could reach them a barrier made of strawberries appeared in front of the group. The Strixs let out a loud, "screeeeeeeeeeee!" and flew away from the barrier.
The plants kept growing, filling up the column they were inside. They rode on top of them, soon the group reached the top. Everyone jumped off the plants and landed on the ground hard.
Brooke, Grover, and Ulster pushed themselves up. Apollo was out cold. Meg was screaming. Her eyes were darting around as she took in their surroundings.
"No, no, not here! I don't want to be back here! We need to go!" The preteen started back away. She ran for the column and frantically tried to get through the barrier.
A gentle lullaby filled the air. Slowly Meg calmed down and curled up on the ground asleep. Grover shakily moved forward. "That should keep her calm for a few hours. Can you help me move her to the shade?"
Brooke nodded and told Ulster to follow her. The duo brought their unconscious friends further up a hill. There was some shade under a structure of what appeared to be the remains of a once beautiful home.
Once the two were settled, Brooke set up camp and made sure Ulster was resting in the tent with his food and water, decided to explain herself to Grover.
Only she didn't get the chance. The satyr's eyes were wide and his jaw dropped. He pointed behind her, she turned around to see what had caught his attention.
A beautiful woman with long blond hair with green eyes was standing there. She was wearing an emerald green cloak that had faint silver streaks on it. She wore a gold circlet dotted with small emeralds. Around her neck was a gold torc necklace.
In her hands, she held a cauldron. What made her stand out the most was she was levitating a few inches off the ground. She smiled at Brooke, who kneeled in front of the goddess.
"You do me a great honor, young warrior. Your forefather Cúchulainn would be impressed by how you handled the cursed birds.
I am Eriu, the guardian spirit of Ireland. The god Lugh asked me to deliver a message to you. Your quest is to assist the god Apollo on this portion of his quest. He will need your assistance against an ancient enemy.
You carry the blood of the land that was never conquered by the Romans. You have trained for this as your warrior ancestors have for centuries. When the time is right, you will know when to unleash your full potential as a warrior.
Good luck, young Brooke. I know you and Ulster will do everything in your power to succeed." Eriu faded away leaving a shocked satyr and determined warrior woman alone.