The first thing I thought as I jolted awake in some bed, was that I remember. I remember dying.
Steady, warm hands clutched my shoulder as I vomited bile. They waved a hand and it vanished.
"How do you feel?" Apollo sat by the cot, a brazier flaming cheerfully next to him.
"Not great." I groaned, looking around. The walls held frescos of deeds, animated stone dancing and sneaking and waving. A staff leaned against a column in the corner, gold cord holding deep blue drapes back. The floor was marble, the columns marble. Everything was marble and gold.
"Hm. Drink." Apollo says, handing me a cup of water. As I sip, I realize where I am.
"You carried me to your temple?" I ask.
"Sis asked me to keep you safe, and I couldn't. Bringing you here was the only thing that I could think of that would make her not hit me."
"Did it work?" I croak.
He snorts, "No. But she didn't stab me this time."
"Progress." He eyes my cup and snaps his fingers, refilling it.
"So, what's the verdict, doc?" I ask halfway through the second glass.
"You had some vivid dreams." He says, a seeming non-sequitor until I turn to see the gouges in the marble column near me. I know they'd match my fingers.
"Sorry." I apologize, drinking more water.
"It's fine." He waves, "I can get it fixed. But those dreams, were they worth it?"
"No. Well, maybe. Yes." I say, shaking my head, "no."
"You want to tell me?" He asks, not unkindly. Apollo is the god I interacted with the most while I was still employed, so I know he's genuine. My second in command was his kid, one of his favorite kids. But beyond that, we just had a habit of running into each other. I stop for hot cocoa one day in the mountains, and who's waiting for a scone but the god of sunshine? I'm camped out in the desert, the only one awake, and who lands his car not thirty feet away to take a leak? I get sent to fetch one of the augers from a casino, and who walks down the steps? I've seen him as a vet, an EMT, a neon deliveryman, a mesmerist, a professor, a truck driver, even a few times graffitiing buildings. We just bump into each other. It's why we know each other so well. And for him to meet me in his Greek form, even if they're not that different, no wonder he was giddy. If I can't tell him the truth, then I can't tell anyone.
"I died." I say without preamble, rolling the words around my tongue like arsenic marbles. "I was underground, deep underground. It was dark, blackest- and there were these things. Hard shells, their legs stabbing, scraping on my armor. I was running over them, on them, waves rising up and swarming. I remember diving through them, crawling under them. They breathed fire, spat poison. Jaws flung wide and dripping noxiously. I- I remember facing the largest ant I've ever seen. She was as large as a tractor trailer, as a ferry. She spoke to me. English, rough and chittered, but she spoke to me. I remember a flash of something, and then everything spilling out my front. My organs sliding from my body and then- it got dark, then light, and then there was a voice. Another voice, one not calling for my death, my trespass, my meat. I- they asked a question. I don't remember what it was, or even what I answered. But I remember being asked, being given a choice. I woke up back in camp, rose from my funeral pyre.
"I don't know how I was down there, I don't know why I was in those tunnels. I don't remember anything from that desert. But I remember dying. I remember being dead."
Apollo shoots me a look, and in the entire time I've known him not once has he shown anything close to his current look: terror.
"I'm never going back to that desert. Never. I'll die first." I vow, clenching a fist suddenly encased in grey before he can speak.
"Alyssa," he says softly, "I don't know if what you saw was real. It's really hard to believe. People- mortals aren't supposed to come back from being dead. Not for the duration you would have been, and they're certainly not supposed to remember the experience."
"It was real." I say sharply, raw and torn and unable to keep the hurtfrom my voice.
"I want to believe you, I really, really do." Apollo says. "Believe me, I know you better than to think you'd lie. And you have plenty of experience with illusions. But, I can't."
I say silent.
"Alyssa,:" he grabs my hands and catches my eyes, "If what you remember is real, then that means so many of the rules we built our world on aren't solid. So many of the things we knew were ironclad, iconoclast, just aren't. It's not a matter of trusting you, it's-" he runs a hand through his hair nervously, the shades of yellow and red wavering, shimmering,"-If you're right, then everything we know is a lie. The whole pantheon, domains, all of it. We knew the cycle, thought we understood how it worked. The flow, the usurpation and rules of it all, but-"
"Alyssa, no one, nothing should have that kind of power. They had to tear through domains, anchors, bindings. Over a dozen powerful beings would have to work together, and it would drain them dry for decades. It just isn't possible."
"So they were right about me."
"Who?"
"The Senate. I am-" tears dropped onto the sheet.
"No, Alyssa. You're not- whatever they called you." Apollo sighs, flopping onto the bed and lying next to her. "As much as it kills me, I believe you. I'm terrified. Something or somebody pulled you out of the underworld and awakened your gifts. You can't remember who they were, but I've always known you were important. Even if I don't know why.
I'm the god of prophecy, or, the main god. I can see almost all of the futures if I look. But you, my friend, you've never been clear. I am your friend, Alyssa, even if the first few times we met I was more curious than anything else. Who was this mortal whose future was clouded in mist? The path you walk billows, clouds, with deep gray. As I met you more and more, we became friends, and I kept meeting you because I started to care. I'm not supposed to," he snorts, "but that hasn't ever really stopped me before. I've seen wars, brutal and consuming ones. Walked the steps of torched cities, comforted the dying on many a battlefield. I've been captured, tortured, even killed for a brief time. But you," he taps me on the nose, "you are the most terrifying thing I've ever met."
"Is that why you became friends with me?" I ask.
"No. But it didn't hurt." I elbow him, and we both laugh.
"I can't explain a lot of things I mentioned. Already, I'm skirting the edges of oaths I swore long, long ago. You're headed to the Repository, to New Orleans. While you're there, be careful. Look closely, listen carefully. The Repository is an ancient bastion of knowledge. Some things can't be forgotten, can't be lost. And so we put them there, hid them in the vast recesses. Dig deep, and always question what you're told there. Our stories, our records carry more than the surface words. Put the pieces together and you'll figure it out. Not only who you are, and how you came back, but who and why you are so terrifying to the gods." he says, voice taking on the thrum of divinity.
"I've made enemies." I say.
"Yes, little spirit. You have made some dangerous foes. I heard of your bargain with the grey eyes; dangerous that was."
"I had little choice."
"I know. You are who you are, and you'd never stop at anything less than the best you can do."
"But?" I say.
"But it was dumb. A very, very raw deal." he smirks, "One that you got out of, actually. You brought it here and she didn't accept it. Package delivered and rejected."
"Huh." I say. "You wouldn't happen to have?"
"Oh, yes I do." he giggles. He passes me my bag and I dig out the scroll. Apollo twirls his fingers and pulls up a return to sender sticker.
"You sure about this? This scroll could buy you a lot of things." Apollo cautions.
"Power gained without price is no power at all." I quote.
"Have it your way." he says, letting me smooth the sticker on the side of the tube. Apollo takes it back and drops it in one of the braziers.
"Mercury will see it home." he says.
"What of the others?" I ask in the silence that follows, "Dionysus, Hermes, Demeter."
"Demeter hates the drama; she truly doesn't care. Same for Hera. Zeus and Poseidon will sit out as well; they'd only escalate matters. I think Vulcan was more curious and nostalgic than anything else- he's likely to just go back to his forges and forget about everything for a few months. Hermes doesn't like fighting, he's not going to come for you. In all likelihood he was trying to grab you to take you away from Olympus when sis stopped him." Apollo explains.
"And the others?"
"You really want me to explain every single one of them?" he grouses.
"I know my allies; you and your sister, Lord Mars." I say.
"Lady Hestia would help you." he points out.
"Lady Hestia would help a turtle cross the road." I wave my hand.
"Of course. I respect anyone who carries their home with them." she says, spinning serenely to the bed.
"We'll have to set you on your way soon." she says, turning to Apollo, "Our charades will not last forever."
"I had hoped to buy more time." Apollo growls, pulling things out of the air and stuffing them into my bag, "Dionysus hates demigods, but his powers are broken. You know the myths, "he waves, "but watch out. Minerva learned a way to call some of his fractured parts together, and you saw him stop Poseidon cold. There are bound to be more who can unleash him. As he is, he can't resist the oaths he swore. Hades was the one to give you clearance into the Repository, but I don't think he's too fond of you. Not really fond of anyone besides Seph anyway." Apollo says, grabbing his staff.
"And Venus?" I ask.
"She's the wildcard here. I saw the look in her eyes; I'd expect her to drop in and demand a meeting. Handle with care- I know the reputation she has with the mortals but she is the eldest of us all and not to be taken lightly." Apollo cautions.
"Okay." I nod, "How am I getting to New Orleans?"
Apollo smirks, "Don't you know? I have a house there. I'm bringing you with me."
At my confused expression he chuckles, "It's been the ruin of many a poor boy, and god I know, I'm one." he sings.