"So what's been happening since we've been gone?" Nasim asked his sisters as they headed back to their cabin.
"Well, nothing much," Sabrina said. "We've been rebuilding things the dragon trampled and, well - "
"There's a new cabin," Nasim suddenly realized. There was a new cabin right next to theirs; it looked like it was a regular cabin that had been painted white. Every color of the rainbow was present in the paint that had been splattered Pollock-style over those white walls.
"Who's this one for?" Nasim asked, moving closer. A stylized number 18 had been painted beside the door.
"We made a cabin for - for Robin," Lou said. "I mean, this is the second time that a muse's child has shown up."
Nasim pushed open the paint-splattered door and looked inside. It was bright inside, and everything had been made of honey-colored blonde wood. The wood on the bunks had all been carved elaborately and different colored blankets lay on every bed. A CD player and small collection of CDs were left in one corner. A bookshelf had been nailed up and a motley collection of paper back books stood there like mismatched sentinels.
"We had a collection," Sabrina said. "Pulled together the blankets from various cabins. Iris's cabin painted the outside, Hephaestus's cabin did the carvings, Apollo's donated the CD and player, and Athena's collected a couple of books for them. We... thought it would be nice if Robin had some place to stay at camp."
"Yeah," Nasim nodded. "It would have been nice."
"We used levitations, animations, and several other spells to build it with the help of - " Lou began, but Sabrina elbowed her and made a slashing movement across her throat.
Nasim remembered that, even though the wallet of Perseus and the epics contained in it had disappeared with Robin, there was another book, Beowulf, that had been left at the bottom of the arrow satchel. Maybe he should add it to the bookshelf.
But that felt like stealing. Could you steal from a dead man?
Every Indiana Jones movies screamed yes. But Nasim's heart said no.
"Iris-messages aren't working," Nasim said, running his fingers through his hair. "I... need to talk to my father. Can one of you rig up a spell?"
"I know the perfect one," Sabrina smiled.
Back at their cabin, Sabrina sent Lou away.
"She's... not a very good people person," Sabrina told Nasim with a smile. He nodded; he knew how Lou was.
Sabrina sat cross-legged on her bed and began to chant in an ancient language that made Ancient Greek sound like it had been written yesterday. A space in front of her, roughly rectangular in shape - a lot like a TV - began to shimmer and darken. Zig-zagging lines and white noise like an old-fashioned television filled the space.
"Let me tune it," Sabrina's voice said from the other side and she said a few more words. The image resolved and cleared. A man with dark, carmel-colored skin and thick black hair came into focus. He had a kind mouth framed with a trim black beard; his eyes were like Nasim's, dark and doe-like. Dark maroon curtains hung behind him and there were two hooks where the muhaddab had hung.
"Nasim?" Abal Sameer asked, startled. He seemed surprised at his son's appearance, not the magic involved. His rich accent made Nasim ache with homesickness.
"Nasim, I'm going to leave, 'kay?" Sabrina said, coming out from behind the screen. "The spell doesn't need me."
"Who's that?" Nasim's father asked.
"Um, thanks Sabrina," Nasim said, nodding to her as she slipped out the cabin door. "Hi, Dad."
"Hi, son," Amal smiled slightly. "Was that a special girl?" Special girl was what Nasim's father called girls Nasim had a crush on.
"Uh, that's my sister," Nasim said. "Sabrina. I told you about her, remember?"
"Oh. Yes, you did," his father nodded. "Is everything okay?"
"Not really," Nasim said. "I... lost a friend." The corners of Mr. Sameer's eyes turned down.
"I'm sorry," Amal said. "Why don't you tell me about this friend of yours?"
"He was... different, Dad," Nasim said.
"In my experience," Amal said slowly. "Being different is good."
"How can you say that, Dad?" Nasim asked, shaking his head. "After all that's happened to us?"
"There's nothing wrong with being different," Amal smiled slightly. "Tell me more about him."
"He acted like he was born in the eleventh century," Nasim said.
"B.C.E. or C.E.?" Amal asked without missing a beat.
"C.E." Nasim answered. "He was a son of Calliope. That's - "
"Muse of epic poetry," his father nodded. "I picked up a little book of mythology trivia."
"Really, Dad? Trivia?" Nasim laughed, shaking his head. Then he sobered up again and sighed. "We went on a quest. To get a statue of a goddess, but really just to rescue Robin's special girl. We don't really know if - if he's dead or... or what?"
"Is she okay?" Mr. Samheer asked.
"Who?"
"Robin's special girl," Amal said. "Is she okay?"
"Her boyfriend just disappeared," Nasim said. "How do you think she's doing?"
"You said disappeared," Mr. Samheer noted.
"Yeah, so what?" Nasim shrugged it off.
"For every man there is a purpose which he sets up for his life and which he pursues. Let yours be the doing of all good deeds," Amal continued. "Nasim, if you believe your friend is alive, what do you think you should do?"