Chapter 40

An Authority Figure Can't See a Future For Me

If not for the wind Ruth Glacier would've been dead silent as the Di Angelos stared each other down. Gusts blasted through the chasms I'd cut in the ice, ripping loose shards free with a noise like natural windchimes. The noise was eerier than silence. Something about it felt like someone was playing piano, only the high keys, building tension before the climax came along and something bad inevitably happened.

"Who's Nico?" Emmitt asked. "And why is that guy not coming after us?"

Bianca didn't react, but I decided to answer the second question to keep Emmitt from asking his first one again. "Teleporting takes energy. I can't believe he managed to take all of us in the first place, but by now he's exhausted."

"Shadow travel." Prometheus shivered. "I don't like it one bit. The wind reminds me of riding in a convertible, and I've hated those since the Sixties. John was so likable for a son of Hermes."

Somehow, Prometheus's usual sidetracked self brought Bianca back down to earth.

"I have to get over there," she said.

I grabbed her wrist because she looked ready to try walking on air to make it happen. "That's impossible. Do you see how far it is?"

"Nico… Nico could teleport. That means I can teleport. I have to figure it out, just give me a minute to figure it out so–"

"Shadow travel takes practice. It's not something you can get on your first try just like that."

"I got rid of the ghosts on Graham Island. I beat Nera. I can do this!"

"This is harder than any of that. One wrong step and you'll pop out in Antarctica, or the Amazon. You could come out halfway up that cliff and fall straight down!"

"I have to try!"

Someone cleared their throat.

"Um, guys?" Emmitt pointed across the ice. "He's gone."

The spot Nico had been was as empty as where Minos had stood earlier. There was no trace of him or any of his minions.

"Why…" Bianca might've dropped to her knees if I hadn't been holding her arm. "Why would he… He saw me. He saw me, so why would he–"

I never was all that good at comforting people. In the movies I'd seen they always patted people's backs, but if someone did that to me and muttered some empty words while I was upset that whole area would end up under ten feet of flooding. What I would want to hear was how we were going to solve things.

"Nico'll be back," I told Bianca. "He knows you're here. He won't give up on that. Next time he shows up, we'll tie him up so tight he can't even think about running away again. Then you can ask him for yourself."

For a second I was worried she was going to cry. Instead she wiped her nose with her sleeve. Smacking her bow with her free hand, it morphed back into a glove which she pulled on. "Come on," she said without inflection. "I'm not standing here until we freeze."

It was better than I thought she would react. As a group we struck out in the only direction we could, over the one portion of the ice that hadn't collapsed, halfway between slightly and totally lost.

I can't describe how cold it was. Every step felt like you were freezing to death, until you took the next one and got colder. Bianca and I didn't even have gloves. We should've had frostbite after the first mile, but for some reason we were alright.

It was hard to explain. I could feel how cold it was. The mortal part of me was begging to shut down. But there was this resistance, like my body was saying, ''You think this is cold? Try sitting on the ocean floor!''

I guess Bianca was feeling something similar. Prometheus was Prometheus. Emmitt, even though he still had all his gear, had it the worst. He would've collapsed if it weren't for Andi's kitchenware. I gave it to him in desperation, and to my surprise it worked. Every few steps he would sip some melted snow from the cup, and color would come back into his cheeks.

Still, that could only take us so far. After two hours, my resistance was wearing thin. All of us were hitting our limits. We stopped for a break by the foot of one of the peaks towering over the glacier, less because it was a good idea to sit in the snow than because taking another step was such a struggle.

"I don't suppose you've got any of that fire you stole sitting around?" I asked Prometheus.

He smiled. "All out I'm afraid."

That didn't seem like cause for smiling to me, so I let the conversation die. Kind of like how a fire would in this weather.

"Sooo cold," Emmitt moaned, and took a swig from his cup.

"That item is quite handy," Prometheus said.

I nodded. "It was a gift from a teacher."

"Oh? The Androktasiai?"

"Yeah. How did you… Oh. I guess Kelli mentioned her."

Prometheus tilted his head, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. "You should feel lucky. As teachers go, there aren't many better. The Androktasiai were very capable in battle."

"Not enough," I said, the past tense hanging heavy in his sentence.

"Possibly," said the titan, "but it isn't the strongest who are the last standing, it's whoever is standing last. If they only showed up right at the end, who is left to complain?"

"You're saying the smartest win?" Emmitt asked.

"Not quite. It's the cleverest. The one who knows not just the tools he or she has, but the tools of their opponents, too. The ones with both strategy and ingenuity. Oh, and of course strength helps." His eyes locked on something out past my shoulder. "And, on that note…"

Twisting around, I found a huge bear looming on a snowdrift thirty feet off, its mouth hanging open. It was big enough to swallow me whole and have room left in its stomach. Probably for my friends. Still, it didn't look like a monster.

"Maybe it'll ignore us?" I said.

The bear lumbered our direction.

"You just had to say something," Bianca griped.

"Okay, the bear did not understand what I said. This isn't my fault."

"It's not about the bear understanding," Emmitt said. "It's about tempting the Fates. That's why you never say things like–"

"Like at least it can't get worse, right?"

As soon as I spoke two new bears appeared, flanking the first like bodyguards. All of them were brown except for the snow on their fur and the pink tongues lolling between their yellow incisors.

"Percy!" Bianca said.

"Okay," I allowed, " that was dumb. My bad. You take the one on the left?"

"With celestial bronze arrows?"

I winced. "Right. Then just… stand back."

Way back, one of my classes took a field trip to the Bronx Zoo. I remember thinking back then that the bears were huge. I thought maybe they'd seem smaller now, since I'd grown up. No luck. Right up close they felt about five times larger, and smelled of… perfume?

Just as I got close, my sword pulled back, a voice shrieked, "Stop!"

I stopped so fast that I accidentally skated an extra few steps. My eyes roamed to see who had spoken, bouncing from snow piles to the sky before coming to rest on the bear in front of me.

"Did you just… talk?"

The bear cleared her throat. "Why, yes, I did. Thank you for noticing. Do you always charge people with weapons when you meet them?"

"You aren't a person," I pointed out.

She rose on two legs, crossing her front paws. "What, just because I'm a bear I'm not a person?"

One of the two behind her cleared its throat and spoke in a deep, accented voice, like he should be selling pizza out of one of the hole-in-the-wall Italian places dotting my old neighborhood. "That's what bein' a bear means, Melissa."

"Gosh!" said the first bear. "What am I going to do with you two?"

"Give us a raise?" suggested the bear on the right.

"Or a juicy salmon?" said the one on the left.

Melissa sniffed through her nickel-sized nostrils. "Your salary is paid in fish, those are the same thing! And good riddance are you getting it. You two hardly do a thing around here!"

"I caught a rabbit yesterday," one objected.

"And then you ate it!"

"It was tasty," he agreed.

"Um," I wasn't sure getting their attention was the greatest idea, but I was too confused to keep quiet. "What are you–"

"Wasting time for?" Melissa interrupted, ignoring the shake of my head saying that no, that wasn't what I was trying to ask. "Wonderful question! See, Charlie? Some people know how to stay on topic." Melissa turned, addressing me. "Let's get going then!"

"Going where?"

"To your appointment, of course. My boss sent me to pick you up." Melissa reached into the folds of her fur and pulled out a clipboard, tapping her claw down a list of names. "Let's see… Ah! Right there. Yep, it's all in order. You're his nine o'clock."

I swallowed. "And who's your boss?"

Prometheus appeared at my side. "Nothing to be afraid of," he said, although his face didn't match his words. He looked like he was working his way through a three-month-old chicken sandwich, doing his best not to gag, even as he said, "He is a… friend. Going is preferable to freezing to death out here."

That he didn't sound one hundred percent convinced wasn't exactly reassuring.

Over the following walk, I learned a few things. First, the other two bears were named Charlie, and Charlie. I would've given them nicknames to separate them, but considering there was nothing in their appearance to tell them apart I'd probably just end up making myself look dumb.

"It's alright," Charlie said when I admitted that.

"Our mom couldn't tell us apart either," Charlie agreed. "Not even our boss can do it. But it got us a job, so everything is A-OK."

The other thing I learned was that despite appearances, these bears were far from normal. I guess the speaking English part gave that away, so I didn't so much learn they were special as about one of the things they could do.

Somehow, with each flurry of snow, the terrain changed. We were covering distance way faster than the speed we were walking. So when, just ten minutes after we left our resting spot, we found ourselves staring up at a place, I wasn't as surprised as I should've been.

It looked like a scale-model ice sculpture of Cinderella's Castle, only at a ratio of 1:1. Admiring the looming turrets, enormous front gates and chiseled ramparts, I couldn't help wondering, morbidly, how long it would take all those details to melt if you dropped it in the Sahara.

"Chop chop," said Melissa. "We've only got a few minutes left."

She led us between the ice block gates into a surprisingly cozy interior. There was a mat to wipe your feet on and the floor was carpeted. Paintings hung from the walls. Most were of bears, but the biggest was a portrait of a beautiful woman with gleaming blond hair and electric blue eyes.

"The mistress isn't home right now," Charlie said when he saw me looking.

"The mistress?"

"Yeah," said the other Charlie. "I think that's why the master is in such a good mood."

Prometheus, meanwhile, actually stopped frowning. "Whew," he said. "One I can deal with. As long as it's not both of them."

"You won't have to worry about that," Melissa said. "Only one of you is meeting with Master. The rest can stay in the living room."

"Who's he meeting?" Emmitt wondered.

"That one."

I had a feeling, before Melissa gestured her muzzle toward me, who it was going to end up being. And what do you know.

Now that she knew these weren't regular bears, Bianca had no issues with fingering the hem of her glove/bow. "We aren't leaving Percy alone."

"Don't be silly," Melissa said. "The appointment is for him only."

"We won't abandon our friend," Emmitt said, "and there is absolutely nothing in the world that will change that."

"The living room has hot chocolate," Charlie said.

"Whole mugs of it," Charlie added.

Emmitt slapped his cheeks. "I– I won't be tempted!"

"It's alright," I said. "You can go."

"You sure?" Bianca asked.

"Positive," I said, because while everyone was talking I'd spotted something about the painting on my left.

The polar bear in it looked kind of goofy with a helmet on and a book under its arm, but the painter was really good. They had nailed the eyes, which looked so deep I half expected you could pull the portrait off the wall and you'd find those two dots extending forever out the backside. They weren't the kind of thing anyone could dream up without a model sitting in front of them. And me? I'd met that model. I was sure of it.

"I'll be fine," I said. "I know whose house we're in."

Once I'd followed Melissa up three flights of stairs, down two corridors, and past an Olympic-grade ice rink, we found ourselves in front of magnificently carved double doors of ice. If there was ever a multi-million dollar igloo on the market, I imagined the front door would look a little something like this.

"Go on in," Melissa urged. "And don't worry so much. He's really happy to have you here."

"Awesome," I said, although I wasn't sure why he would be. We'd only met once, and that meeting was only for a few minutes.

Melissa padded out of sight around the corner, and still I stood frozen before the frozen doors. I wasn't scared exactly. I just had so little idea what was waiting for me on the other side that I couldn't take that next step.

Then the doors swung open all on their own, revealing a room half swanky man cave, half pristine library.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to open the door yourself," Coeus said, looking a whole lot less furry than the last time I saw him. The white-haired man spread his arms, looking at me with those bottomless icy eyes from the portrait. "What did I say, Percy? I told you we'd be on better terms the next time we met."

At Coeus's urging, I came in and took a seat at the other end of his sofa. A humongous TV on the opposite wall was playing Winter Olympics reruns. Finished beer cans were strewn across the floor, mixed in with half-read books. The walls were decorated with Skis and snowboards, except for where the bookshelves were. Hanging from the ceiling like a chandelier was a glistening bobsled, the blades still sharp.

"Care for a drink?" Coeus asked, snapping his fingers and materializing another beer for himself.

"Oh, uh, I'm underage. Like, by a lot."

Coeus knocked back a third of his drink, then wiped his mouth and belched. "Of course, the 1984 National Minimum Drinking Age Act. Don't worry. I prepared."

He snapped his fingers again and three sodas appeared suspended in the air in front of me– a Fanta, a Coke, and a rootbeer. "Take your pick."

I grabbed the Fanta and the rootbeer, one in each hand, because arctic trekking gets you thirsty. Both were chilled perfectly.

"You look a little different," I said after a minute sat sipping our drinks.

He chuckled. His human form was as big as a bear, and only a little less muscular. Handsome in a sculpted way, like someone had designed his face with a chisel and hammer. "What you met last time wasn't me," he said, "though certainly, if I wished it, I could look such a way. Much easier to possess a local, though. Far less risky."

"I'm pretty sure polar bears are the least local thing there is to Maryland."

"There are zoos," Coeus said, shrugging. "You'd be surprised how eager the residents are to let me possess them when it gets them free of their cage. And if they do well, there may even be a job waiting for them! Melissa was once stuck in Chicago and now look at her. I knew she would be a fantastic secretary."

I pushed aside the fact that Melissa was a literal Chicago Bear. "You said possession was less risky. What did that mean?"

"Nothing complicated. I'm still quite weak, you see. Compared to what I once was, anyway. If an Olympian caught me skulking about in my true form, things could get ugly! Only here, in my domain, do I have nothing to fear. What do you think of it, by the way?"

I figured by domain he meant the North. Since arriving I'd been tossed out of shops, led into an ambush against an army, and nearly frozen to death in a blizzard.

"Your domain and I haven't gotten along too well," I admitted.

"It's to be expected," Coeus said. "Though I suppose everything is, when you're me. What you need is a guide."

"We had one. He tried to kill us."

"Then you'll need a new one!" Coeus dropped his can, already finished, and moved his foot sideways while it was falling. When the can hit the ground it cartwheeled off of its corner, striking where his foot had been and spinning just over where he'd moved it to. "Don't worry. I already have one lined up downstairs. Your friends have met him by now."

"Who is he?" I wondered.

"An expert. No one is more qualified, I can tell you that. Ah, but forget all that for a moment. Watch!" Coeus suddenly pointed at the TV, where a Swedish skier was preparing to start his run. "This one wins gold."

Sure enough, the skier took off when the starting pistol sounded, rocketing down the slope. It was one of those events where they had to follow a painted path without crossing the lines, weaving between flags and whipping around turns.

"They're good," I said. "But why are you watching a replay?"

Coeus looked at me like he didn't understand the question. "Why not? Live, a replay, does it make a difference when you know who is going to win from the start?"

The skier sped over the finish line. Sure enough, a leaderboard appeared across the bottom of the screen with his name at the top. Coaches and family mobbed him, celebrating.

But for a moment I saw it from Coeus's point of view. Not as a shock or a relief or even a mild surprise, but something as predetermined as his can hitting the floor after he dropped it. I hated it. It made the world feel hollow.

"Do you really know everything before it happens?" I had to ask.

"Not everything," the titan admitted. "If I was that perfect we would never have lost the first war, or I would simply have fought for the other side."

I waited for the ground to rumble or the sky to boom, some sign Kronos had heard him and was demanding blood. Coeus noticed, and he laughed.

"My brother can't hear us here, don't worry. But certainly, there are gaps even my wife and I can't fill in. Which between her prophecies and my intellect, is quite something. And really they are so few and far between. You've encountered two of them, I believe. The siblings downstairs for one."

"You can't tell Charlie and Charlie apart," I realized. "That's why you hired them, for the novelty. That's why they said being identical got them a job. But what's the other one?"

He smiled, infinitely pleased, and said the word that made everything click into place. "You."

"Really," he went on at seeing my face, "you're entirely unknown to me. I can see parts. Some of the struggles you'll face for example – and trust me, there are a lot of those – but past a point, when the cards are down, it's blank! A massive empty space! Unmarred A4 paper, all ready to be sketched on in fascinating designs I can't even guess! Which is to say, Percy, that you will have a choice. This is not news to you, I expect?"

I shook my head. Daedalus had told me all about the prophecy waiting for me in a year and a half.

"What you choose when the time comes is entirely up in the air. That skier-" he pointed at the tv, where an American was whipping around a hairpin turn "–will fall." And only a second later, the dude crashed limb over limb. "But imagine if I couldn't tell? What if it took me by surprise? You don't have to imagine. If I'd not spoken you never would have known. But I have to imagine it because I always know. Do you see? You are my chance to change that."

I sipped some soda, tapping my foot on the thick shag carpet. "That's why you've been so helpful."

"You have no idea." Coeus chuckled. "I will do everything I can to get you in position to make your choice. I will not, cannot, have not sat on the sidelines with my entertainment under threat. You are here now, and you will be fed and warmed before continuing your journey. You will have the perfect guide. I cannot escort you myself, but I can give you the best chance possible to succeed."

Some people might've gotten mad at their life being treated like a movie, but I had entirely too many people trying to kill me to get picky about the ones that wanted to keep me alive. The least I could do was put on a show.

"I'll try to choose something interesting," I said.

Coeus stood up. "Oh, don't fuss about that. I know, that anything I don't know, will already be riveting. But I believe I've kept you long enough. You're hungry, no? Come. The cooks are fantastic, as long as they've been shown how to hold a ladle with claws."

Before we could leave the room though he stopped in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. "Look at that."

I followed his eyes and found a skier in yellow and blue on the TV weaving between the flags. I said, "The guy that won the gold is back up."

Coeus grinned so wide I could see every tooth in his mouth, all whiter than mayo on snow. "Not quite. That's a different competitor, only dressed the same. Think of that as a hint, for a special little problem of yours."

He winked, and strode out the doors. I followed absently.

What in the world had that meant?

We found the others in the dining room helping it live up to its title by demolishing plates of food.

The room was cozy. Big windows with panes of thinner see-through ice looked out on miles of tundra. Same as Coeus's lounge, the air didn't feel too cold, even though it had every right to be.

"Percy's back!" Emmitt said, spraying bits of hotdog. Ketchup was smeared around his lips but he didn't seem to mind one bit.

Bianca didn't even nod, busy slurping down spaghetti. Prometheus said, "Indeed," but he was only looking at his uncle. And Charlie and Charlie, each curled in the corners, were gnawing on raw salmon. Which left just one guy I didn't recognize.

He was sitting in a chair all the way at the far end of the table, as far from everyone else as possible. I'm not saying he looked mean, but as his blue eyes glanced around the room I'd seen walls that showed more emotion.

"Hector," Coeus said, "introduce yourself to our fine friends here."

The guy rose. I don't know why it took so long for me to notice how big he was. Only a little shorter than Prometheus with at least twice the lean muscle, if any NBA teams needed a center I think I found their man.

He was also pale. I hadn't seen skin so white since Nico, although this guy had the son of Hades beat when it came to the hair. Where Nico's mop was totally black, this guy's was whitish-blue, cut clumsily to hang over his ears. But without a doubt the weirdest thing about him was his outfit. I hadn't seen flip-flops and shorts since California, and I couldn't think of a less appropriate shirt than a Hawaiian-style button-up decorated with palm tree patterns. A sword was sheathed at his side, unremarkable from what I could see of the handle. Not that that made me relax. Any sword was a good sword if the guy wielding it knew what he was doing.

"I'm Hector," he said.

"And what are you going to be doing?" Coeus prompted.

"Guiding these guys," Hector said, his hands in his pockets. "Provided they can keep up."

That seemed like the second worst thing a guide could say to you, behind only "I'm Lost". I guess Coeus noticed how uneasy I looked because he reassured me:

"He won't abandon you. The cool exterior is genetic, but underneath he's quite the softie. He'd rather die than leave someone behind."

Hector showed off the downside of pale skin– it's absolutely impossible to hide a blush. "What do you know?"

Coeus tilted his head. "Everything, remember? I even know about the teddy bear you sleep with, the one named–"

"Shut up!"

Prometheus gave Hector a commiserating look. "He's just awful, isn't he?"

"The worst," Hector agreed.

"And now I feel quite ganged up on," Coeus said. "Guests these days, so rude."

Prometheus stood up. Patting crumbs off his lap and straightening his shirt, he pulled on his jacket. "Don't worry, we'll not be here long. As soon as Percy's eaten we'll be off."

"I wouldn't dream of it, nephew," Coeus said. "You all will stay a night at least. Hard trips require rest."

"I must insist," Prometheus said. "While the gesture is appreciated, we'll be quite alright. Your wonderful hospitality–"

"Praise won't work on me," Coeus interrupted, taking a seat at the table and pulling plates his way. "When you move to blaming your eagerness to leave on a desire to complete your mission, that will fail too. We both know you only find me uncomfortable. And when, at your argument's end, you set it up to seem as if I'm obstructing my elder brother's will, I'll disregard that, as well."

Prometheus's mouth shut with a click. Slowly, he sat back down. It occurred to me that this was why he was so wary of his uncle. Where Prometheus specialized in twisting people with words, Coeus saw every trick coming. In other words, Prometheus was helpless against him. Which didn't stop him from trying.

"I am in charge of this mission," he said. "The decisions are mine to make."

Coeus chuckled. "Oh, they grow up so fast. My nephew is in his rebellious phase. But, no." He braced his beefy arms on the table, eyes blazing with authority I hadn't seen since he threatened Kelli. "I outrank you."

He didn't shout. He didn't have to. The words hit Prometheus with the force of a 50 caliber round, drawing the angriest expression I'd ever seen from the younger titan– his eyebrows sloping together at the bridge of his nose. Slowly, Prometheus leaned back in his seat, for once staying silent.

"There is a pass through the mountains," Coeus said, beginning to work his way through a chicken sandwich like the whole exchange never happened. "Hector will guide you. Believe me, none know it better than him. The trip will take one day, thirteen hours, forty-two minutes and twelve seconds in good weather, which you will have. Your journey's end is close at hand."

"How will we know when we're there?" Emmitt asked.

"You'll know," Hector said, cracking his first smile since I'd met him.

"Why do you look proud about that?" Bianca asked.

The smile faded. "Who knows."

I got the feeling it wasn't some big secret. He just felt like being difficult.

Coeus shook his head. "Manners aside, he isn't incorrect. It isn't far, and you will certainly know when you're there. You all have done very well. Soon it will be my Nephew's turn to do his job. So rest while you can, and go tomorrow with the knowledge of how far you come. I may be biased, but knowledge is always the greatest pleasure." His eyes drifted to me. "Tempered, of course, with a dash of thrill."

I took the seat between Emmitt and Bianca. Pulling up a plate of steak, I cut a bite and bit in. Perfectly warm. The opposite of what's waiting for you tomorrow, my brian whispered unhelpfully, but I focused on the taste of good food.

It was like Coeus said. We were close, just a little more left. And right now, it was time to rest.

(-)

I stumbled on the very first, two-paragraph plan for The Inventor's Legacy from a year and a half ago, and holy hell it was a completely different story. Always funny how things change.