"Tracy, go help your mother sort out your closet."
Myka looked up at her father. Pete, Tracy, and she were playing Chutes and Ladders in the living room. It was about ten in the morning, and either she was about to be directed towards a chore too or her father wanted to speak with her. Those were the only times he ever sent Tracy off to clean.
"Why do I have to help?" Tracy was seven and hadn't caught on to the idea of responsibility.
Mr. Bering squatted down beside her. "Because it's your closet and I need to speak to Myka and Pete alone."
"Fine." Tracy let out a laborious sigh and slowly stood up. She dragged her feet as she walked towards the hallway.
Mr. Bering stood up and directed Myka and Pete to go sit on the couch. He leaned above them to check outside the window and then made sure the curtain was closed tightly.
"Is the chicken-snake outside?" Pete asked.
"No."
Myka didn't like her father answering that question like a chicken-snake was real and searching for Pete. She also didn't like the tense feeling she was getting from this situation. If she wouldn't be scolded, Myka would bring her knees up and hug them.
Mr. Bering sat down on the coffee table across from them. The sight confused her. Maybe he wouldn't have scolded her for hugging her knees after all. He looked at them, one at a time, very seriously.
"Pete, I spoke with your mother last night. You know she's upset that you ran off and has been very worried about you."
Pete hung his head.
"We also discussed what you should do now," Mr Bering continued. "She agreed that it might not be safe for you at home." Myka frowned. "Now, I could let you stay the one night with us, but ultimately it's not safe here either. For you or Myka."
Myka frowned deepened and felt a shot of panic race through her heart. She listened harder over the sounds of her quickened breathing.
"That's why I've made arrangements for you both to go to a summer camp."
"But that's not safe either!" Pete said.
"What summer camp?" Myka asked. "Why do I have to go?"
Mr. Bering still spoke to Pete. "Your mom and I discussed it at length and she agreed it's time for you to visit the camp. I assure you, it's completely safe over there."
"Why am I going, too?" Myka asked. Because Pete should have a friend go with him? Because her family didn't want her around the house anymore? Mr. Bering finally looked at her, but he didn't answer her question.
"What kind of camp is it? How's it safe?" Pete asked.
"It's a summer camp in New York that's designed specifically for people like you."
"In New York?" Myka asked.
"What do you mean people like me?" Pete asked. "Am I not human? Am I actually an alien?"
Myka wanted to scoff, but her dad believed in the chicken-snake and was sending her across the country for summer camp by herself so anything could be true at that point.
Mr. Bering rubbed his hand over his face. "It should really be your mother telling you this, but you're here and she's not."
Pete moved to stand up on his knees on the couch. "Am I a superhero?"
"No, you're not a superhero," Mr. Bering said. "Not exactly."
Not exactly. This conversation was going horribly wrong. Myka pulled her legs up to the couch to hug them and dropped her chin on her knees.
"They do call you heroes, but it's not the kind you're thinking of."
Who's they? Who was her father talking about?
"So, I'm not a superhero?" Pete asked.
Mr. Bering took a breath and looked Pete square in the eye. "You're a demigod."
Myka stopped breathing.
"You both are."
Many thoughts streamed through Myka's head, but the only coherent one was "no". No, it wasn't true. No, this wasn't happening. No, her father was not making up a story just to get rid of her for the summer.
"I'm a demigod." Pete reached his hands high into the air, still standing on his knees. Then, he dropped back to his heels and asked, "What is that?"
"It's.. Well it's complicated," Mr. Bering said. "Do you know anything about ancient Greek and their religion?"
Myka spoke before Pete could answer. "You're lying."
"Myka, have I ever lied to you?"
"Yes. You're lying right now."
"Myka."
"Or if this is true," which is ridiculous. It's not true it's not true it's not true. "Then you've lied to me my whole life." Her heart was racing.
"I've kept the truth from you to keep you safe," Mr. Bering said. "I never lied to you."
Myka bit her lip and fought down tears. He was sticking to the demigod story.
"But what's a demigod?" Pete asked. "And what does it have to do with superheroes?"
Myka sprang off the couch and ran to her room. Her father yelled at her, but she ignored him, shut her door and curled up in the corner between her desk and the bookshelf. Her father pounded on the door and shouted at her to open it. He shouted that this was why he'd never told her, because she was a child who wouldn't understand. Because she got upset too easily. Myka wrapped herself up as small as she could and fervently prayed that he wouldn't push his way in and yank her off the floor. He could have - she didn't have a lock on her door - but he never did. Finally he gave up and told her to pack a bag because someone was coming to pick her up soon. Then he left. Myka buried her face in her knees and let herself cry.
After a few moments of silence, her door opened. Myka tensed and didn't lift her head. "Go away, go away, go away," she whispered.
"Myka?" It was Pete. Myka felt ashamed for crying in front of him and yet, a fresh wave of tears sprang up.
"Myka?" She heard him sit down in front of her. "We're supposed to pack. I mean, my backpack's already got everything in it, but. … Do you know what's going on? Your dad didn't really say."
Myka shook her head.
"Oh. I thought you knew what a demigod is."
Myka lifted her head up and rubbed her tears away. "It's a half-god, half-human."
"Like Jesus?"
Myka frowned. Her family wasn't religious, but she's pretty sure that Jesus wasn't a demigod. "No, not God-god. Like the Greek gods, Zeus and Athena. They would come down and have kids with humans and those kids were demigods."
"So… like in the movie Hercules?" Pete asked.
"Yeah. Hercules was a demigod."
"Whoa. So my real dad isn't dead, he's Zeus?" A vicious clap of thunder rolled through and startled both of them. Weird. Myka only saw sun shining through her blinds.
"No, you're dad isn't Zeus," Myka said. "Demigods aren't real. They're mythology."
"But your dad said -"
"He's lying." Myka's throat tightened. "He's just sending me away. He doesn't want me here." She didn't know if it was because she let Pete come home with her on the bus or if she'd gotten in trouble at school and no one had told her. But her dad was punishing her for something.
Pete shrugged and poked at his shoelace. "I'm being sent away, too."
Myka watched him. That was true. Pete wasn't going home either. His mom was sending him to the same camp. "What time are we leaving?" she asked.
"I dunno. It sounded like soon."
She nodded. Slowly, she stood up and cleared out her backpack so she could pack.
Myka was a rational person. Ordinarily, her father was too, but this situation was bordering on insane. Her father had honestly declared her to be a child of the mythological Greek gods. True, she didn't know who her birth mother was, but as she's rarely been able to recognize her relation to her father, she'd never considered her relation to her birth mother to be important. Myka was an anomaly, the oddball in her family and in her school. If her father who had raised her couldn't provide a connection for her, how could a birth mother she'd never met provide one? Still, not knowing her birth mother didn't allow her to accept that her mother might not have been human at all. That was just absurd. Though, her father had called Pete a demigod, too. And Pete had been able to identify an amphisbaena without knowing anything about Greek mythology. It was too obscure to be a coincidence. Amphisbaena weren't exactly featured in Disney movies.
But a demigod?
A man arrived after lunch, a Mr. Valda. He was shorter than Myka's dad and wore a cap like old-fashioned newsboys wore. He was introduced as their ride to the summer camp.
"What's this camp like?" Pete asked again. "Is it big? Are there a lot of kids there?"
"It's big enough," Mr. Valda said.
"Do you have an accent? What kind is it?"
"British."
"Is this a British camp? I thought we were going to New York. Are there going to be other people with accents?"
Mr. Valda took a slow, deep breath before responding. "Very few."
"Okay cool." Pete tilted his head. "Hey, why does your hat look funny?" Mr. Valda looked angry, so Myka nudged Pete to make him stop asking questions.
Mr. Bering crossed over to stand in front of Myka. "You'll be safe at this camp, and it'll be fun. You'll learn a lot." He put his hand on her shoulder. Myka eyed him wearily. "I know this is a lot to process, and I'm sorry you have to leave so suddenly, but it really is dangerous for you to stay home right now. This camp is better protected. Nothing bad will be able to reach you there."
But something bad could reach her here? Had she always been in danger at home?
"We should leave," Mr. Valda said. "Amphisbaena aren't very bright, but it will find their scent eventually. It's better if we're on the road when that happens."
Mr. Bering squeezed Myka's shoulder and then stepped aside for Myka and Pete to follow Mr. Valda down the stairs. There was an old car waiting for them in front of the store. It smelled of peppers and garlic like it had served the last decade as a pizza delivery vehicle. Myka sat in the back seat with her backpack between her feet and Pete bouncing in the seat beside her. A jolt of fear hit her as they pulled away from the curb, and when they reached the first turn, Myka spun around in her seatbelt and looked back. She could just see her father standing in the doorway of the store. He didn't wave.
Why'd I have to leave? Why couldn't I stay?
They got on the highway and drove for a very long time. Mr. Valda wasn't very chatty. He didn't respond to anything they did or said except to tell Pete to stop fidgeting. Myka thought he looked tense, and she wondered if it was because he was uncomfortable driving. He didn't seem used to the pedals. Whenever he switched from the gas to the brake, he pulled his entire leg back before pressing down again. It looked strange.
Eventually, Myka became restless with studying the car and its occupants. Pete had already pulled out a stack of comic books from his backpack to flip through, so she reached into her own bag and pulled out Treasure Island. She brought her legs up on the seat and curled against the window to read.
Myka woke up feeling sore in her neck and cramped from sitting in the car. She blinked and looked around, trying to figure out how long she'd been asleep. That's when she realized the car wasn't moving anymore.
She sat up and took off her seat belt. They were at a gas station. Mr. Valda stood outside at the pump filling up the car. She wondered if he would let them stretch their legs. Or get some real food because she was starving by this point. Whatever lunch she'd been able to eat was long gone.
Pete groaned and mumbled. Myka tapped him with her foot.
"What?"
"Wake up."
"Mmm." Pete's eyes slowly opened, closed again, and then opened in a squint. "It's hot."
"The car's stopped."
"Why, what's going on?"
"I guess we ran out of gas."
Mr. Valda opened Pete's door making Pete lose his balance and get caught hanging awkwardly against his seat belt. Myka reached out to help him straighten up.
"You have two minutes to buy what you want," Mr. Valda said. "Be quick about it."
"I didn't bring any money," Myka said.
"I have some for you." Mr. Valda gave a ten dollar bill to Pete who had been searching through his bag. Myka sighed with relief.
"Thank you." Pete and Myka got out of the car and rushed into the convenience store. They went to the bathrooms first, and when Myka came out, Pete was at the slushie machine, pulling at the stack of cups.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Getting a drink," Pete said. He grabbed the largest cup available and eyed the different flavors in the swirling machines.
"I don't think Mr. Valda will let us stop if you have to use the bathroom later."
"I'm good. I just went pee."
Myka crinkled her nose. Pete placed his cup under the blue machine, but Myka stepped over and stopped him from turning the valve.
"What?" Pete said.
"If you drink all of that, you'll have to go again in an hour. Mr. Valda won't stop, and I'm not riding with you if you pee in the car."
Pete frowned. "I wouldn't pee in the car."
"Get a smaller drink."
Pete grumbled, but he put the large cup back. Myka moved to search for any real food the store might be selling. She wanted something more filling than chips or cookies.
There wasn't a lot of options, so she settled on Pop-Tarts, peanut butter crackers, and a milk and joined Pete at the counter where he had a bag of jellybeans, a package of Oreos, and a bag of Cheez-it's. Myka looked at the combination and then looked at Pete.
"Seriously?"
"Fruit, chocolate, salt," Pete pointed.
Myka shook her head. At least he'd taken her advice and gotten a child-sized fountain drink. The clerk rang them up while Myka eyed the display of Twizzlers sitting beneath the counter. Did they have enough money for those too?
Mr. Valda barged through the door. "I said two minutes!"
Myka and Pete talked over each other to explain while Mr. Valda marched in and plucked up their packages from the counter. "We need to move. Now," he said. To the clerk, "Keep the change."
Pete nudged Myka's arm until she looked down where he was pointing. Mr. Valda wasn't wearing shoes. Not that shoes would have fit him anyway: his feet were goat hooves.
Myka stared as Mr. Valda pushed them and continued to shout at them to hurry. They stumbled to the doors. When Myka reached outside, she saw a large shadow coming down the road that was definitely not a truck.
"What is that?"
"Get in the car!" Mr. Valda yelled.
Myka ran behind Pete who slid all the way across the backseat so Myka could get in.
"You had to take so bloody long, didn't you?" Mr. Valda yelled as he started the car and slammed his foot on the accelerator. Myka and Pete both protested again - they needed the bathroom, they were hungry - but Myka spotted feathers floating past the windows and ceased talking. She twisted to see behind them and found the shadow had materialized into the largest chicken she had ever seen. More horrifying was its head and tail were conspicuously absent. In their places where long scaly bodies and heads of snakes. The head from the tail end arched over the body to join the other as the creature ran after the car as fast as it could on its chicken feet.
Myka screamed. Pete shouted that it'd found him, and Mr. Valda sped the car down the road away from the highway entrance.
"Run! Run!" Pete said. "Floor it!"
"Shut up and make yourselves useful," Mr. Valda said. "Open the backseat."
Myka's heart pounded and she gaped at the monster, but she caught Mr. Valda's orders. "What? How?"
"The backseat. A section opens into the trunk. Pull it down."
Myka and Pete looked at the seat. Myka found the tab first and tugged. A six inch wide section came down like an arm rest. Beyond it was a dimly lit space that rattled with objects.
"Hurry up and arm yourselves." Mr. Valda took a turn and sent Myka falling against the door. Maybe she should have her seat belt on. Should she be putting her seat belt on? Would that help her if this monster attacked the car?
"Oh cool!" Pete's voice pulled her back. He pulled his arm out of the trunk and manipulated a crossbow through the hole.
"Can you shoot?" Mr. Valda asked.
"Um.."
"Can you even load it?"
"Maybe..." Pete messed with the crossbow while Myka climbed partially into the trunk. She couldn't see anything, but her hands found what felt like a bundle of arrows and brought them out for Pete.
"Don't shoot me with it." Then she dove back in to see what other weapons were in the trunk. She came up with a sword or sword-like weapon, but there was no room in the car to swing it. She moved on. Almost in the back, when she was stretched at an awkward angle and scared she would fall completely in the trunk and get stuck, Myka's hand hit a knife. She grabbed it and scooted back into the car. She didn't know enough about knives to know what kind it was, but the tip was pointy and it looked useful if a snake head snapped at her.
"I got it!" Pete said. "I think."
Mr. Valda muttered in the front seat. Myka looked out the back windshield. The amphisbaena continued to run after them, not losing or gaining any ground.
"If it was in the city, how did it catch up to us so fast?"
"Be quiet," Mr. Valda yelled, focusing on the road. He pulled into a large empty parking lot near some abandoned buildings and parked. "This will do." He turned to them. "I suggest you learn to fight and quickly."
Myka was baffled when he got out of the car. Weren't they better protected inside? Even more baffling, Mr. Valda brought out a pipe reed and began playing a tune as the amphisbaena approached.
Pete opened the door and stepped outside, too.
"Pete!"
"I can't shoot it inside!" She watched him struggle to aim the crossbow, and then he pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He hadn't loaded the crossbow correctly.
Fortunately for Pete, the amphisbaena seemed angrier with Mr. Valda right then. It's front head dove and snapped while the tail one hissed like an army of cicadas. The front head dove again, and Mr. Valda narrowly jumped away as he continued to play his reeds.
Myka got out of the car and rushed to him. When the amphisbaena dove again, she was there with her knife to slash at it's neck. It didn't leave much of a mark - the knife seemed to glide over its scales more than anything - but the creature still felt the force and drew back to hiss. Myka watched it, trying not to panic as it glared at her and prepared to strike again.
At the bottom of her vision, she noticed something moving. The amphisbaena struck out; Myka dodged and slashed. She realized the movement was weeds growing over the creature's feet. Dandelions, crab grass - whatever roots were beneath the pavement were coming up through the cracks and wrapping thick strands over and around the chicken feet. She was pretty sure the amphisbaena wasn't doing that.
There was a thunk and a whoosh, and then she heard Pete cheer. An arrow stuck out of one of the creature's necks. Pete must have figured out the crossbow.
And now he had the amphisbaena's attention. The creature turned its head and tried to take a step towards Pete, but the weeds held it fast. More hissing and the amphisbaena lowered both heads to check out what had trapped it. Myka ran over and plunged her knife down. The tip broke through the snake scales and drew blood, but it didn't seem to go deep. The amphisbaena's front head arched up and sent Myka flying back. She hit the pavement butt-first and winced.
Another arrow struck the creature. Pete had hit it in the eye this time. The amphisbaena made a hiss loud enough to resemble a screech and shook it's head while the uninjured one tried to reach out and bite him. Its feet pulled enough to crack through the weeds. Mr. Valda switched tunes and played louder, and more weeds sprung up to ensnare.
"Hey you stupid snake!" Pete yelled. Myka couldn't see him through the car, but another arrow whizzed through the air and pierced its head. The amphisbaena still flailed and struggled to free its feet. Myka rushed it and made another jab into its neck, but the injury just angered it. It didn't seem to feel pain. What would she have to do? Slice its neck open? The idea made her nauseated, and then a head swooshed down to bite her and she retreated.
Myka eyed the creature looking for a weakness. It was too tall for her to reach the snake heads unless it dove down. The body was also large, but otherwise looked like a normal chicken's body covered in feathers. Maybe it wasn't as strong as the snake scales? "Hit the body!"
"What?" Pete yelled.
"The chicken part. Hit the chicken part!" Pete sent his next arrow deep into the feathers, and both snake heads hissed and leaned down to check the damage. One of them bit the shaft to pull it out. Myka sized up the creature. If it had a heart, it would be about... there.
Myka clutched her knife. If she was going to reach the heart, she'd have to climb onto the trunk. But the amphisbaena stood too close to the back of the car. She darted over to the front of the car, climbed on the hood, and carefully walked across to the other end. The amphisbaena had finished removing the arrow and noticed her when she reached the trunk. It arched forward with both heads and hissed.
"Pete!"
"Hey! Hey you stupid bird!" Pete ran out from beside the car. "Eat arrows!" He struck the body again, and where the shouting didn't capture its attention, the arrow definitely did. The amphisbaena swung its heads around. Myka was clear.
She gritted her teeth and jumped. She clawed for a grip as she collided with the monster and caught hold of some feathers. However, it was immediately clear the feathers would fall out rather than hold her weight. She scrambled for a better hold, thoroughly enraging the amphisbaena in doing so, but got an arm around the neck and held on. She adjusted her grip on the knife and plunged it into the feathered body before the creature could work how to reach her. Her aim must have been true. The creature shuddered and began to collapse. There was a second where Myka panicked that she'd be trapped beneath it when it fell, but then suddenly there was no creature. She fell to the ground, landing badly on her knee and scraping her arm. Dust fell around her. It took her a moment to breathe through the sharp pain of her knee, and then she rolled over. There was nothing but sky above her.
Mr. Valda's face appeared. "You survived, then?"
Myka blinked at him then put her arm over her eyes. The dust was still falling.
"Myka! Myka! We killed it! We won!" Pete came to a skid next to her, and she felt his knees bump into her side. "You totally killed it! It's gone! It just crumbled away like old cookie crumbs. It was awesome!"
Myka groaned and sat up. Her right hand felt raw from the pavement, and her knee was bleeding. It didn't look deep, but she suspected she'd have a nasty bruise for the next week. The knife was still next to her along with a single feather that must have fallen out before the creature disappeared. Myka picked the feather up.
"A souvenir of your battle," Mr. Valda said. "If you're alright, I'd like to get back on the road. Gather the weapons up and let's go."
"So, do we get to go home now?" Pete asked.
"No, you're still off to camp."
"But we killed the snake monster."
Myka was silent as she stood up, but she agreed with Pete. The danger was gone, they should get to go home.
"You only banished it, temporarily," Mr. Valda said. "Monsters never die. They'll reform at some point, an hour from now or a century. It makes no difference, though. You know you're demigods and will need proper training. Camp is the best place for you right now."
Pete looked distraught. "But my mom."
"Will be better served if you learned how to properly fight," Mr. Valda said. "How long did it take you to load that crossbow?"
Pete fixed his grip on the crossbow. "Well, you didn't even fight at all. You just played music."
Mr. Valda leaned down to face level. "I'm not the demigod. You are. And that music likely saved your lives by keeping it contained so a little gratefulness might be in order."
"I want to go home!"
"You'll get in the car." Mr. Valda walked towards the driver's seat.
"What about calling?" Myka asked because Pete looked like he would throw his crossbow at Mr. Valda's head in another second. "Can we call home?"
"Not out here. Cell phones will attract more monsters. You'll have a way to contact them after we get to camp." Mr. Valda opened the door. "Now, let us go."
Pete and Myka stayed in place another moment.
"He's just a stupid goat," Pete said. "He's got horns on his hat. Do you see them? He's a stupid goat bossing us around."
"Satyr," Myka said. "He's not a goat. He's called a satyr."
Pete brushed his eye roughly. "I miss my mom."
Like the night before, Myka didn't know what to do. "We can call her when we get to the camp."
"Why can't we call her now?"
"I don't know." Myka shifted her grip on her knife. She felt silly holding it with the monster disintegrated into dust. "Come on, let's get back in the car."
Pete walked with her, still looking downcast. "The amphis-snake won't reform at my mom's house, will it?"
"No," Myka said even though she had no idea. "He said it could take a whole century before it'll reform."
"Yeah," Pete nodded. "Yeah."
Mr. Valda started up the car without speaking, and in a few minutes, they were back on the highway driving to this strange summer camp.
