Chapter Five
The nice exploding waiter, rather predictably, turned out to be Apollo. He looked furious, very impressive, and mouth-wateringly yummy in a waiter's uniform. Peter beamed.
"Nerucci, is it? Come on, we're leaving." The god of poetry grabbed Peter's arm, and manhandled him out of the restaurant. Peter began to formulate a plan, only to find his brain had become fuzzy, and his legs wobbly.
"Th...the garlic bread – you drugged me!"
Apollo nodded. "I thought you'd cause less trouble being taken to your death if you were unconscious. We're going to Olympus."
"Oh...goodie..." Then darkness swallowed him, just as he heard Rachel's furious cry.
"-completely outrageous! I demand that you step away from my grandson this instant! Ares!" The clear ringing tones were spoiled as she whined Ares' name pathetically.
"Uh, no. Don't bring me into this."
"He's your grandson too!"
"Aw, shucks."
"The boy is awake." A quiet, male voice said. Silence reigned and Peter took this opportunity to crack open an eyelid. He was lying on the floor, surrounded by the Olympians. Lordy.
Apollo was bent over him, white with rage and a long, gold ceremonial dagger in his hand, the kind they use for sacrifices. A little behind Apollo was a startlingly beautiful women who, to Peter's ever-lasting concern given how she appeared different to everybody, looked a little like Rachel. Half-off his throne was a tall, brutishly sized guy with flames for eyes – and who could really benefit from a bit of foundation, in Peter's humble opinion – and must be Ares.
Peter's gaze continued around the room – Hermes, Zeus, Poseidon, Demeter, a few empty thrones, and Athena. Peter smiled and climbed to his feet. Apollo hissed and moved the blade closer to his throat.
"Peter! Darling!" Aphrodite flowed towards Peter, snatching up his hands and kissing him. "Your father is on his way, and your uncle is waiting outside. They all love you very much, you know."
Peter nodded, "Which uncle?"
"Eros, of course. Now, let us forget all this silliness, and you can come and have margaritas in my rooms."
"Not so fast, Aphrodite. This boy has tried to desecrate the Oracle." Peter got the feeling that it was very rare for Apollo to be so serious, judging from the surprised looks on the other gods' faces.
"He has done nothing of the sort! He was merely taking her out to dinner!" Aphrodite laughed at the absurdity.
"And what usually follows 'dinner' with a child of Aphrodite?"
"ENOUGH." Oh. Well then. Zeus had more balls than Peter had ever given him credit for (if Aphrodite was anything like her sons when she got mad, he didn't want to be in Apollo's – or now Zeus' – shoes). "Apollo, would you please refrain from slaughtering Aphrodite's favourite grandson-" Peter's grin stretched wider. He knew that he was favourite. "-like a sacrificial bull, since I haven't had my espresso yet-" A glare at Hermes, who shrugged apologetically. "-and I'm not in the mood to stop Ares from killing you."
"I can slaughter him like a sacrificial pig, if you want. I'm not fussed which farmyard animal he is." Apollo sent me a dangerous grin.
A shriek erupted outside.
Zeus looked tired as he rubbed his eyes and said, "Bring in the Oracle before she ruins my new doors."
Apollo inclined his head, and strode off to let a highly pissed off Rachel in. She marched in, right up to Zeus and said angrily, "You have no right to kill Peter! He wasn't planning any advances on me, he knew about the whole eternal virgin shebang, and he still took me out, yeah? If you kill him, then I'll call upon the spirits of Delphi to torment you for the rest of eternity, and you know how long that will be, yeah?" Apollo looked torn between laughing and throttling Rachel.
Zeus, however, looked solemn as he replied, "As you wish, Oracle. Release him. You may leave now."
Rachel gave me a faint smile as she strode past, and Aphrodite glowed at me warmly before floating back over to her throne. Apollo growled under his breath and threw himself into his throne, looking annoyed.
"Wait." Peter said firmly. "I have something to say."