Chapter 43

A Swan Gives Me Directions

Since Hesperos was in no shape to be guiding anybody across a city, I was worried I'd have to ask strangers for directions. But when I stepped out the front door I found one jumbo glowing swan perched on a low branch waiting for me.

"Are you going to show me where to go?" I asked.

"Honk!" it said and flapped to the ground, walking purposefully. I hoped that meant 'Yes' and not 'There're fish this way'.

I felt a bit goofy walking behind a swan, and people's reaction didn't help. Everyone paid attention as we passed. The bird seemed made for the stares. It preened at every glance, flexing its feathers with pride.

It definitely knew where it was going, too. It took corners with confidence, leading us deeper into the city until I had a pretty strong suspicion what our destination was, too.

It looked like a concert hall— a shining marble dome rising above the rooftops, looming at the city's center like a shining spherical heart. The road widened as we got closer. At the base everything opened up into a cobblestone ring. Mean-faced guards, some who I recognized from the bridge, loitered in front of the building. They glared as I passed, but didn't stop us.

The front gates stood open, hunks of amber taller than some homes. Three statues, two on the sides and one carved above the entrance, depicted figures in togas with beaming expressions. Even in dull gray rock I recognized the center one as Pagomenos. The other two must've been his brothers, from context as much as any resemblance.

"Do we just go inside?"

"Hoooonk," said the goose, flapping its wings as if to say hurry up.

We walked straight in. Unlike outside there weren't any guards here. The ceiling was high, the floor totally smooth. Little golden painted suns decorated the walls. Three doors only a little smaller than the front door stood closed, one in each wall. Above the doors, tunneled through the stone, were little passages the size of manhole covers. No sooner had we stepped inside my goose guide took flight, flapping into one of the passages. It was a perfect fit down to the centimeter, but that didn't make me any happier about getting ditched.

''Great," I said, suddenly standing completely alone. "Now where am I supposed to go?"

As if answering my question, the door dead ahead swung open to reveal a long empty hallway. Convenient, but creepy.

I walked down the hallway. What else was I supposed to do? The walls still had suns painted on them, but now they weren't alone. Every six steps the same scene repeated: the sun dragged by a chariot that slowly spiraled out of control to crash land in a river, crying girls surrounding the carnage and golden trees rising up in their places. With every repetition more details got added. The art got closer and closer to perfection. By the end of the hallway the scene was so detailed, the crying girls so grief-stricken and the crashed chariot so decimated, that I felt personally affected. I practically fled through the final door.

Stepping out, I found myself in a room that took my breath away— literally. The floor was solid ice emanating cold. The roof, mottled and orange, was hotter than the heat lamps you saw in reptile cages. The two extremes shouldn't have been able to exist together but they did, and stuck in the middle it was hard to get a deep breath in.

Dominating the center of the room was a towering shrine. Vases of purple flowers coated it. The center was done in the shape of the sun. A carving of a gigantic snake I would not want to run into in the wild wrapped around the middle. Longer than a fire hose and four times as thick, I'd put money on it being able to crush an armored car just by constricting. Even crazier, its stone head hung to the side, implying somebody had been able to kill the beast.

Between the shrine and me, reclined in a red leather armchair scaled up to his size, was Pagomenos. Two massive jewel-encrusted bird perches sat either side of the armrests, but the hyperborean leader was only looking at me.

"Come in, come in!" He waved me closer. "Percy, was it? I hope you found your way alright."

"I managed," I said. "The swan was helpful."

As if answering the call, the same bird swooped out of one of the tunnels in the walls. It glided in to land on one of two flashy perches. Unlike when I last saw it, though, it wasn't alone. An identical bird with the same glow appeared a second later, settling on the other perch.

"Good. Good! Glad to hear it." Pagomenos reached the pockets of his toga. I didn't even realize togas could have pockets, but apparently his had pretty big ones. He pulled out twin jumbo handfuls of birdseed, holding his palms out to either side. The swans gave happy little coos and started lapping the food out of his hands. "These two are ever reliable."

"Are they your pets?" I wondered.

I could've sworn the birds glared at me over their meals.

"More like family," Pagomenos said.

"Oh. Cool, I guess."

Other than Pagomenos' chair and the bird perches, the room's only furniture was the shrine. With no chair for me, I stood awkwardly by the door and wished Pagomenos would get to the point.

"Where's Prometheus?" I asked.

"Out, for now. He went for a walk."

"Didn't you guys have a ton to talk about?"

Pagomenos rocked back in this chair, keeping his hands flat for the birdseed. "We covered things surprisingly quickly."

That was either very good news for us, or very bad. Maybe they'd sorted everything out and Prometheus had gotten the deal he wanted. Or they'd smashed into a barrier the titan's smooth talking couldn't slip past. Like, say, convincing them to leave Hyperborea behind. I didn't blame them one bit. If I lived here, I wouldn't want to leave either.

"Hesperos said you wanted to see me?" I said instead, because negotiations weren't something I could do anything about one way or the other, and relaxing on a porch patio sounded a lot nicer than standing awkwardly in whatever this room was.

"I do. How is Hesperos, by the way? I try to visit him when I can, but he's so isolated out there on the outskirts."

"Hesperos? Uh, I mean, I just met the guy. But he seems like he's doing alright. Served us some swan. Really dug the that Hector invited us to stay. "

"I imagine he did. His son's fate has hit all of us hard."

I frowned. "Why though? I mean, not to be insensitive or anything, but why does everyone care so much about the guy?"

"Hmmm…" Pagomenos thought about it so long, the swans picked his palms clean. When he finally came to an answer he brushed his hands together and stuck them on his knees, leaning forward. "Guilt, I suppose. We, as a people, placed too much hope on too few shoulders. When we see Hector we're reminded of our own shortcomings."

I thought about that. "You mean Hesperos and his wife's plan… That was that big of a deal?"

"I'm more surprised that Hesperos told you of that," Pagomenos admitted. "He's not so reticent as his son, but those memories like aren't the sort to bring up casually."

"He said I reminded him of his wife."

"Did he now?" Pagomenos' eyes studied me a bit more intently, making me shift.

"What was she like?"

"Charismatic," he said instantly. "Charming. Courageous. Nobody is perfect— she had a poor streak when it came to authority, and she never, never could make the order to leave a soldier behind, even if it threatened a dozen other lives. Still, if there were any among my people who deserved to live, it was her. Such a tragedy. We've lost far, far too much to those feuding tribes."

He shook his head sadly, and I glanced around the room. It was definitely decorated for him and his birds only. Three brothers in the myths. Three sculptures on the building. But here, in the throne room, just one seat.

"Like your brothers?" I asked, going out on a limb.

The mood shifted. I guess I caught him off guard. His chin jerked. On their perches the swans held out their wings, rearing back with angry honks.

Then Pagomenos waved his hand. The birds calmed down. He addressed me casually, any surprise covered up.

"I didn't take you for a mythology expert."

"I'm not," I said. "But I know a little. Like how there were three of you."

"Correct. There were."

"What happened to them?"

"They weren't killed." Pagomenos scratched the back of his head. "Do you always quiz people on their lost relatives? I'm starting to see how you got so much out of Hesperos. Still, though, it's no great mystery. My brothers moved on.

I frowned. "Like, they started a new colony?"

"Hyperboreades, immortal priests. Triplets. Hyperborean people are long lived, true, but we three are different. We cannot die. Arimaspoi could blast my body to pieces if I let them, but I would only find myself scattered and in quite a lot of pain. If you must know, Percy, my brothers changed." Pagomenos paused, tilting his head back and forth like he was tossing the word around in his mouth. "Change. It's quite the thing for an immortal; slow in coming, but hitting with the force of a bullet. One day they simply decided they no longer cared for our duties. And so, in a way, they were relieved of them."

I swallowed. The idea of living so long you just chose to… die? Was it even dying? Anyway, getting so tired you picked that for yourself was brutal. Just trying to put myself in their shoes was enough to feel like somebody was jackhammering my emotional chords.

"Shocking, no?" Pagomenos' voice had a little humor in it. "You mortals take change so for granted. We immortals don't have that luxury. We have to be wary of it… both in ourselves, and in others."

A puzzle piece clicked into place. "Hector."

"Indeed." For the first time since I'd entered Pagomenos stood, cocking his head. "I can't help but see him as an adoptive son. For a hundred years he's shoved everyone to arm's length. Today he invited four strangers to sleep in his home. You've got to know something— why is he moving toward the person he once was after all this time? Why now?"—

He looked genuinely serious. Just from the gleam in his eye, I could tell my answer meant a lot to him. It was a little embarrassing, because I honestly didn't think we'd done much.

"When we were traveling here," I said, "A bunch of Arimaspoi attacked us."

Pagomenos nodded. "Hector said as much in his report. But there must've been something more."

"Maybe. They totally got the drop on us while we were sleeping. I think Hector thought we were done for. He tried to sacrifice himself and everything."

I paused to glance at Pagomenos' face. Nobody would like hearing about someone they thought of as a son in that sort of situation. But he looked placid, waiting patiently, so I kept talking.

"We managed to get free and turn the tables on them. Pretty soon it was just the leader, and once Hector's sword turned on the guy—"

"What did the sword do?"

Of all things, that wasn't what I expected Pagomenos to interrupt over. He seemed really interested in the answer though, leaning forward and everything.

"Hector didn't tell you?" I blinked. "I mean, it did a few things. First it was shining like a lightbulb. Then an Arimaspoi took it but couldn't swing it. And then the sword got a mind of its own and stabbed that Arimaspoi through the stomach before we could get to him."

"But what set it off?" Pagomenos kneeled down, getting close enough for his breath to warm me from the waist to head. If the Arimaspoi that captured me had a mouth as big as his, it would've been a more dangerous weapon than Zeus's Master Bolt. "Think back. There must have been some trigger. Anything that was said or done to get that reaction from the sword!"

I stepped back to keep from getting distracted by the booger bigger than my head in his right nostril. "Maybe. I think when the sword wouldn't swing, that just seemed… natural for it, I guess. But when it went into attack mode, he had just got done yelling at his soldiers. He told them they should sacrifice themselves for him. I don't know why that would do anything to a sword, but it's the only thing I can think of."

"Interesting. Interesting. Could it be… Excuse me." Pagomenos stood up, giving me some space. "I didn't mean to cut you off. Finish, finish."

I shrugged. "I mean, there isn't much else to say. The Arimaspoi were dead so we went to sleep. We woke up and made the rest of the trip. Hector showed us the valley. You and your guards met us on the bridge, and you know the rest."

Pagomenos paced back to his chair. He plopped down again, massaging the armrests. "So? Your final verdict?"

I remembered Hesperos' story and my thoughts on the balcony. I'd only known Hector for a couple of days, but if I had to guess…

"I think Hector was scared. He lost a lot to monsters, and his way of solving it was to not make any connections again, just so he'd never lose them. We showed him the monsters can lose, too. The same way they can take stuff from you, they can be beaten."

"He took hope from strength." Pagomenos nodded slightly. "A convincing theory. What he once thought of as unbeatable, he saw beaten. And now he believes maybe he can do it himself. Huh."

"It's possible," I said. "Sometimes all it takes is one little win to make people think they could score another, and another…"

If anyone would know, it would be someone from the Bronze Regiment.

"Well, thank you. This conversation has been most enlightening."

Pagomenos inclined his head to me. I could tell when I was being dismissed. He must really have cared about Hector though. I could practically see the cogs spinning behind his eyes as I turned for the door I'd entered from, mulling over everything I'd told him.

Stepping back into the hall of sun paintings, the door swung shut behind me. What surprised me was I wasn't alone. Hector was standing there with his arms crossed.

"You two sure took a while. What'd you talk about?"

"Nothing important," I said.

He eyed me suspiciously, but let it drop. "Fine. Let's go."

He turned to leave, and I sped up to walk beside him. "Hold up. Were you waiting for me?"

"No, I make a habit of standing outside of random doors all afternoon."

"Aw, you didn't have to."

"I kind of did," he said, "unless you wanted me to leave you wandering the city for hours. Or did you memorize the way here and back?"

I hadn't. Now that he pointed it out, I realized I'd just been kind of assuming another swan would show up or something. I sort of wished one had. Their little tail plumage was way cuter to stare at than Hector's pale calves.

We walked down the hall shoulder to shoulder. The paintings were almost more tragic in reverse. Instead of details being added to bring it to life, more and more were stripped away, as if the scene were being scrubbed out of history by a pencil eraser.

"Sad, huh?"

I blinked, pulling my eyes off the pictures. "Was I that obvious?"

"It's everyone's reaction the first time they see it." Hector gestured with his hand. "Phaethon crashing here is one of our claims to fame."

"Phaethon." I racked my brain "He was… a son of Helios?"

"That's the one. Begged his dad to pilot the sun chariot, lost control of it, created the Sahara. When Zeus put a stop to his chaos with his Master Bolt, Phaethon splashed into the Eridanos. The trees on the bank are the bodies of his sisters. The Heliades cried until they transformed. We tell it as a bedtime story."

"Good choice," I said. "If you're trying to make kids cry."

We came to the end of the hall. Passing by the least detailed paintings of the scene, we stepped into the building's entry room as Hector chuckled.

"I like it," he said between soft laughs. "I think it has a good message."

"That your actions can have consequences?" I guessed.

"Not quite. That it only takes one mistake to get you killed."

The guards at the front door glared at me as hard as we walked out as when I went in. I thought that was kinda silly. Either I'd been good and hadn't done anything, in which case they were just being paranoid, or I'd just stabbed up their boss, and the only thing they were doing about it was giving me mean looks after the fact. I thought about sticking my tongue out at them, but that didn't seem like the best way to endear myself to the locals.

"You came here to recruit the Hyperboreans."

It was a statement. I turned my attention from the hostile guards to Hector. "It might be something like that."

He shook his head. "There's no point in hiding it now. You gave it away back by the Eridanos."

Now that he mentioned it, it was true. Oh well, not like it was a secret. Hopefully.

"Yeah," I admitted, "We're here to convince you to fight."

"It won't be easy."

"Oh, I totally get that. I wouldn't want to leave here either."

"It's not about Hyperborea," Hector said. "It's more complicated than that."

"More complicated? How?"

Rather than answer, Hector stopped and pointed. Ahead of us, wedged in a gap between cozy townhouses, was a little park. I was realizing there were a lot of those around the city, but this one was the most packed I'd seen. Kids clambered up and down a jumbo play structure. Some whooped as they slid down slides. Others swung from monkey bars. Parents sat on picnic blankets and benches, chatting. Set back from the street, chain link fence running around it, was a basketball court, twelve-foot teens taking turns to try and outdo their friends' best slam dunk.

"Are you planning to take them?"

"What? No!" I shook my head. "Only the ones who can fight."

"Exactly. And what do you think will happen here, if everyone that can fight packs up tomorrow and goes South?"

It only took a second to think of the answer. Hint: it had to do with recalling the bullet end of a gun barrel.

"The city would get attacked," I said.

"It wouldn't even take a week for the Arimaspoi and Gryphons to sack the place. Every bit of wealth stolen, and everyone that got in their way put down."

The thought made me shiver for the first time since arriving in sunny Hyperborea. "What if we only brought some? Not everyone has to come. If we left, like, half of the guard…"

"It's no good." Hector tapped a flip-flopped foot, watching the park with a frown. "It would take everything we have to repel an all-out attack. The fact that we could win — and it's no guarantee — is enough to keep them from attacking. But the tribes are crafty, not stupid. If our fighters left, they'd descend on us. Which is why there's only one thing Pagomenos would ask for in order to cooperate."

My stomach did a somersault. "There's no way he'd ask that. I mean, that's crazy, right?

"Crazy like leaving paradise to fight a war?" Hector snorted. "Pagomenos has nothing to lose. If you want his help, you'll have to solve his problem. And our problem up here — our only problem — is our neighbors. To recruit the Hyperboreans, the Arimaspoi and the Gryphons will need to die."

(-)

So, full disclosure, this chapter is about 2/3rds the length it was meant to be. I got knocked on my ass by a cold last week, which set me behind. Rather than delay the entire chapter or publish rushed work, I decided to slice off the scenes I couldn't finish and add them to next chapter. So, shorter one this week, but next week should be longer because of it.