𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

chapter seventy. ☄︎. *. ⋆

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I WAS STILL ON FIRE when I woke up. At least, it sure felt like I was. My skin stung. My throat felt as dry as sand.

     I saw blue sky and trees above me. I heard a fountain gurgling, and smelled juniper and cedar and a bunch of other sweet-scented plants. I heard waves, too, gently lapping on a rocky shore. I wondered if I was dead, but I knew better. I'd been to the Land of the Dead, and there was definitely no blue sky.

     I tried to sit up. My muscles felt like they were melting.

     "Stay still," a girl's voice, sweet and even, said. "You're too weak to rise."

     She laid a cool cloth across my forehead. A bronze spoon hovered over me and liquid was poured into my mouth. The drink soothed my throat and left a warm chocolaty aftertaste. Nectar of the gods. Then the girl's face appeared above me.

     Her eyes were an unearthly beautiful brown, almond shaped. She had deep brown, caramel-color hair braided over one shoulder. She was... sixteen? Seventeen? It was hard to tell. She had one of those faces that just seemed timeless. She began singing, and my pain dissolved. She was working magic. I could feel her music sinking into my skin, healing and repairing my burns. I'd felt this kind of magic before. It was like when Will healed me after our practice battles.

     Now, I'm the daughter of the music god, so it definitely says something when I tell you I'd never heard such a beautiful voice.

     I tried to speak, but my own voice came out croaky.

     "Shhh, brave girl," she said. "Rest and heal. No harm will come to you here. I am Calypso."

     The next time I woke I was in a cave, but as far as caves go, I'd been in a lot worse. The ceiling glittered with different-color crystal formations—white and purple and green, like I was inside one of those cut geodes you see in souvenir shops. I was lying on a comfortable bed with feather pillows and white cotton sheets. The cave was divided into sections by white silk curtains. Against one wall stood a large loom and a harp. Against the other wall were shelves neatly stacked with jars of fruit preserves. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling: rosemary, thyme, and a bunch of other stuff I didn't know. I was no plant person.

     There was a fireplace built into the cave wall, and a pot bubbling over the flames. It smelled great, like beef stew.

     I sat up, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my head. I looked at my arms, sure that they would be hideously scarred, but they seemed fine. A little pinker than usual, but not bad. I was wearing a tight cotton shirt and brown drawstring pants that weren't mine. My feet were bare. In a moment of panic, I wondered what happened to my bow, but I looked to the wall by the opening of the cave and it was hanging from a hook, begging for me to take it.

     The events of the past... however long it had been replayed in my mind. The explosion, my powers, the Telekhines and their threats. I was suddenly on high alert, albeit the throbbing pain in my head rendering me somewhat blind when I stood up. My legs gave out momentarily and I stumbled against the bed I'd been lying on.

     I slowly moved toward the door to grab my bow and quiver, stringing them both over my shoulder. It was an instant comfort to have them back where they belonged.

     Now with a bit more strength to my bones, I turned to inspect the rest of the room and found myself staring into a polish bronze mirror, and the sight before me wasn't pretty.

     "Holy shit," I muttered. I looked as if I'd lost twenty pounds I couldn't afford to lose. My hair was a rat's nest. It was singed at the edges like Hephaestus's beard. I had cuts and bruises all over my face and upper body, and however many more that I couldn't see beneath my clothes. But hey, somewhere between the burning molten lava and the flames from my inner self, I'd gotten a sick tan. I finally looked related to Will.

     I turned away from the mirror. The cave entrance was still to my left. I headed toward the daylight.

     The cave opened onto a green meadow. On the left was a grove of cedar trees and on the right a huge flower garden. Four fountains gurgled in the meadow, each shooting water from the pipes of stone satyrs. Straight ahead, the grass sloped down to a rocky beach. The waves of a lake lapped against the stones. At least, I assumed it was a lake. I had no idea where I was. It seemed like a paradise, which immediately made me nervous. You deal with mythological stuff for a few years, you learn that paradises are usually places where you get killed. Source: I was almost trapped for eternity and Percy almost lived as a guinea pig for the rest of his life on Circe's island.

     Oh, gods. Percy. I had to get back to him somehow. Maybe the girl knew a way off the island—maybe she could help me. I heard her voice in the distance. She was standing at the beach, talking to someone. I couldn't see him very well in the shimmer from the sunlight off the water, but they appeared to be arguing.

     I walked toward her slowly because my legs were still stiff. When the grass changed to gravel, I looked down to keep my balance, and when I looked up again, the girl was alone. She wore a white sleeveless Greek dress with a low circular neckline trimmed in gold. She brushed at her eyes like she'd just been crying.

     "Well," she said, trying for a smile, "the sleeper finally awakes."

     "Who were you talking to?" My voice sounded like a frog that had spent time in a microwave.

     "Oh... just a messenger," she said. "How do you feel?"

     "How long have I been out?"

     "Time," Calypso mused. "Time is always difficult here. I honestly don't know, Theodosia."

     I was instantly on edge. "How do you know my name?"

     "You talk in your sleep."

     I relaxed, flushing in embarrassment. "Yeah. Sometimes."

     "Yes. Who is Percy?"

     "Oh, uh. A friend. We were together when I... How did I get here? Where am I?"

     Calypso reached up and ran her fingers through my mangled hair. I stepped back.

     "I'm sorry," she said. "I've just grown used to caring for you. As to how you got here, you fell from the sky. You landed in the water, just there." She pointed across the beach. "I do not know how you survived. The water seemed to cushion your fall. As to where you are, you are in Ogygia."

     "Is that near Mount St. Helens?" I asked, almost to myself.

     Calypso laughed. It was a small restrained laugh, like she found me really funny but didn't want to embarrass me. She had a pretty laugh.

     "It isn't near anything, brave one," she said. "Ogygia is my phantom island. It exists by itself, anywhere and nowhere. You can heal here in safety. Never fear."

     "But my friends—"

     "Percy," she said. "Annabeth, Grover, and Tyson?"

     "Yes!" I said. "Yes, I have to get back to them. They're in danger."

     She touched my face, and I didn't back away this time. "Rest first. You are no good to your friends until you heal."

     As soon as she said it, I realized how tired I was. "You're not... you're not an evil sorceress, are you? Are you going to kill me?"

     She smiled coyly. "Why would you think that?"

     "I mean, I met Circe once, and she had a pretty nice island, too. Except she almost trapped me there forever."

     Calypso gave me that laugh again. "I promise I will not try to trap you anywhere."

     "Or do anything else?"

     "I am no evil sorceress," Calypso promised me. "And I am not your enemy, brave girl. Now rest. Your eyes are already closing."

     I realized she was right. My knees buckled, and I would've landed face-first in the gravel if Calypso hadn't caught me. Her hair smelled like cinnamon. She was very strong, or maybe I was just really weak and thin. She walked me back to a cushioned bench by the fountain and helped me lie down.

     "Rest," she ordered. And I fell asleep to the sound of the fountains and the smell of cinnamon and juniper.

     The next time I awoke it was night, but I wasn't sure if it was the same night or many nights later. I was in the bed in the cave, but I rose and wrapped a robe around myself and padded outside. The stars were brilliant—thousands of them, like you only see way out in the country. I could make out all the constellations Annabeth had once taught me: Capricorn, Pegasus, Sagittarius; my own, Aquarius. And there, near the southern horizon, was a new constellation: the Huntress, a tribute to a friend of ours who had died last winter.

     "Theodosia, what do you see?"

     I brought my eyes back to earth. However amazing the stars were, Calypso was twice as brilliant. I've seen the love goddess herself, Aphrodite, and I would never say this out loud or she'd blast me to ashes, but for my money, Calypso was a lot more beautiful. She just seemed so natural, like she wasn't trying to be beautiful and didn't even care about that. She just was. With her braided hair and white dress, she seemed to glow in the moonlight. She was holding a tiny plant in her hands. Its flowers were silver and delicate.

     "I was just looking at..." I found myself staring at her face. "The.. the sky."

     She laughed gently. "Well, as long as you're up, you can help me plant these."

     She handed me a plant, which had a clump of dirt and roots at the base. The glow of the flowers swelled as I held them. Calypso picked up her gardening spade and directed me to the edge of the garden, where she began to dig.

     "That's moonlace," Calypso explained. "It can only be planted at night."

     I watched the silvery light flicker around the petals. "Does it do anything?"

     "Do things?" Calypso mused. "It doesn't really do anything, I suppose. It lives, it gives light, it provides beauty. Does it have to do anything else?"

     I thought about that for a second, then frowned and shook my head. "I suppose not," I agreed.

     She took the plant, and our hands met. Her fingers were warm. She planted the moonlace and stepped back, surveying her work. "I love my garden."

     "It's beautiful," I said. I mean, I wasn't exactly a gardening type, but Calypso had arbors covered with six different colors of roses, lattices filled with honeysuckle, rows of grapevines bursting with red and purple grapes that would've made Dionysus sit up and beg.

     "Back home," I said, "my neighbors always talked about how they wanted a rooftop garden. My aunt never said anything, but I could tell she wanted one, too."

     "Why did nobody plant one?"

     "Well, we live in New York. In an apartment."

     "New York? Apartment?"

     I stared at her. "You don't get out much, do you?"

     "I fear not. I haven't left Ogygia in... a long time."

     "Well, New York's a big city, with not much gardening space."

     Calypso frowned. "That is sad. Hermes visits from time to time. He tells me the world outside has changed greatly. I did not realize it had changed so much you cannot have gardens."

     I lowered my eyes as Calypso's myth dawned upon me. It had been at the tip of my tongue for so long, and only then did I remember what kept her here. What catch came with paradise. "I get it," I said. "You can't leave. You're cursed to..."

     The realization came with a shiver down my back. "Oh."

     She lowered her head, avoiding my gaze. When she spoke, her voice was sad. "My father is Atlas, Theodosia. I have been punished for his wrongdoings, all his evil deals."

     "Just because you're related to him doesn't mean you're like him. Punishing you for what he did is unfair."

     "The gods do not trust their enemies," she said, "and rightly so. I should not complain. Some of the prisons are not nearly as nice as mine."

     "But that's not right," I said. "Just because you're related doesn't mean you support him. This other daughter I knew, Zoë Nightshade—she fought against him. She wasn't imprisoned."

     "But, Theodosia," Calypso said gently, "I did support him in the first war. He is my father."

     "What? But the Titans are evil!"

     "Are they? All of them? All the time?" She pursed her lips. "Tell me, Theodosia. I have no wish to argue with you. But do you support the gods because they are good, or because they are your family?"

     I didn't answer. She had a point. Last winter, after Percy and I had saved Olympus, the gods had had a debate about whether or not they should kill me. That hadn't been exactly good. But still, I felt like I had to support them because Apollo was my dad.

      "Perhaps I was wrong in the war," Calypso said. "And in fairness, the gods have treated me well. They visit me from time to time. They bring me word of the outside world. But they can leave. And I cannot."

     "You don't have any friends?" I asked. "I mean... wouldn't anyone else live here with you? It's a nice place."

     A tear trickled down her cheek. "I... I promised myself I wouldn't speak of this. But—"

     She was interrupted by a rumbling sound somewhere out on the lake. A glow appeared on the horizon. It got brighter and brighter, until I could see a column of fire moving across the surface of the water, coming toward us.

     I stood and lifted my bow. "What is that?"

     Calypso sighed, like she'd been here a million times before. "A visitor."

     As the column of fire reached the beach, Calypso stood and bowed to it formally. The flames dissipated, and standing before us was a tall man in gray overalls and a metal leg brace, his beard and hair smoldering with fire.

     "Lord Hephaestus," Calypso said. "This is a rare honor."

     The fire god grunted. "Calypso. Beautiful as always. Would you excuse us, please, my dear? I need to have a word with our young Theodosia."

     Hephaestus sat down clumsily at the dinner table and ordered a Pepsi. An invisible servant brought him one, opened it too suddenly, and sprayed soda all over the god's work clothes. Hephaestus roared and spat a few curses and swatted the can away.

     "Stupid servants," he muttered. "Good automatons are what she needs. They never act up!"

     "Hephaestus," I said, "what's going on? Did Percy—"

     "He's fine," he said, waving my worries off dismissively. "Resourceful boy, that one. Found his way back, told me the whole story. He's worried sick, you know. Didn't enjoy any of the automaton cookies I offered as compensation."

     "You didn't tell him I'm okay?"

     "That's not for me to say," Hephaestus said. "Everyone thinks you're dead. I had to be sure you were coming back before I started telling everyone where you were."

     "What do you mean?" I said. "Of course I'm coming back. How could I not?"

     Hephaestus studied me skeptically. He fished something out of his pocket—a metal disk the size of an iPod. He clicked a button and it expanded into a miniature bronze TV. On the screen was news footage of Mount St. Helens, a huge plume of fire and ash trailing into the sky.

     "...still uncertain about further eruptions," the newscaster was saying. "Authorities have ordered the evacuation of almost half a million people as a precaution. Meanwhile, ash has fallen as far away as Lake Tahoe and Vancouver, and the entire Mount St. Helens area is closed to traffic within a hundred-mile radius. While no deaths have been reported, minor injuries and illnesses include—"

      Hephaestus switched it off. "You caused quite an explosion."

     I stared at the blank bronze screen. Half a million people evacuated. Injuries. Illness. How could I have done that?

     "The telekhines were scattered," the god told me. "Some vaporized. Some got away, no doubt. I don't think they'll be using my forge any time soon. On the other hand, neither will I. The explosion caused Typhon to stir in his sleep. We'll have to wait and see—"

     "I couldn't release him, could I? I mean, I'm not that powerful!"

     The god grunted. "Not that powerful, eh? Could have fooled me. You're one of the stronger demigods I've met, young girl. You don't know your own strength."

     That's the last thing I wanted him to say. I hadn't been in control of myself in that mountain. I'd released so much energy I'd almost vaporized myself, drained all the life out of me. Now I found out I'd nearly destroyed the Northwest U.S. and almost woken the most horrible monster ever imprisoned by the gods. Maybe I was too dangerous. Maybe it was safer for my friends to think I was dead.

     "What about Grover and Tyson?" I asked.

     Hephaestus shook his head. "No word, I'm afraid. I suppose the Labyrinth has them."

     "So... Lord Hephaestus, what am I supposed to do?"

     Hephaestus winced. "Don't ever ask an old cripple for advice, girl. But I'll tell you this. You've met my wife?"

     "Aphrodite?"

     "That's her. She's a tricky one, girl. Be careful of love. It'll twist your brain around and leave you thinking up is down and right is wrong."

     I thought about my meeting with Aphrodite, in the back of a white Cadillac in the desert last winter. She'd told me that she had taken a special interest in me, and she'd be making things hard for me in the romance department, just because she liked Percy. But that was before I offended her horribly and ruined my chances of ever finding love.

     "Is this part of her plan?" I asked. "Did she land me here?"

     "Possibly. Hard to say with her. But if you decide to leave this place—and I don't say what's right or wrong— then I promised you an answer to your quest. I promised you the way to Daedalus. Well now, here's the thing. It has nothing to do with Ariadne's string. Not really. Sure, the string works. That's what the Titan's army will be after. But the best way through the maze... Theseus had the princess's help. And the princess was a regular mortal. Not a drop of god blood in her. But she was clever, and she could see, girl. She could see very clearly. So what I'm saying—I think you know how to navigate the maze."

     It finally sank in. The answer was right in front of me. And I absolutely hated it.

     "Yeah," I said, dropping my head in defeat. "Yeah, I know."

      "Then you'll need to decide whether or not you're leaving."

     I sat in silence for a moment, taking that in. I knew I needed to leave. I had to stop Luke and Kronos and I had to make sure Percy knew I was okay. But all of that could be avoided, if I just didn't leave....

     "Decide by daybreak," Hephaestus told me. "You'll know if it's the right choice."

     "I'll—I'll try."

     Hephaestus stood. "Goodbye, Theodosia. You did well, destroying the telekhines. I'll always remember you for that."

     It sounded very final, that goodbye. Then he erupted into a column of flame, and the fire moved over the water, heading back to the world outside. And I found myself staring after it, already longing to leave.

     Calypso found me sometime later. I wasn't sure how long I'd been sitting there, by the water. As she said when I first arrived, time moved differently on Ogygia. She took a seat next to me.

     "I know what he told you," she said. "I can tell you're thinking about it."

     I didn't reply. I didn't want to confirm that I was planning on leaving. I didn't want to cause her pain like that.

     "You would be immortal on this island," she said quietly. "You would never age or die. You could leave the fight to others, Theodosia. You could escape all the prophecies."

     I stared at her, stunned. "Just like that?"

     She nodded. "Just like that."

     "But... my friends. They need me."

     Calypso rose and took my hand. Her touch sent a warm current through my body. "You asked about my curse, Theodosia. You know the myth of my punishment, but I want to tell you the full extent. The parts they don't speak of in mythology, just because they're too tragic. The gods do send me companionship. They allow a hero to wash up on my shores, someone who needs my help. I tend to them and befriend them, but it is never random. The Fates make sure that the sort of hero they send..."

     Her voice trembled, and she had to stop.

     I squeezed her hand. "You don't have to say it."

     "They send a person who can never stay," she whispered. "Who can never accept my offer of companionship for more than a little while. They send me a hero I can't help... just the sort of person I can't help falling in love with."

     I inhaled a shaky breath. "Me."

     "If you could see your face." She suppressed a smile, though her eyes were still teary. "Yes, you. Who else?"

     "That's why you've been pulling away all this time?"

     "I tried very hard. But I can't help it. The Fates are cruel. They sent you to me, brave one, knowing that you would break my heart."

     "But how could the Fates think— I mean, I'm just.. me."

     "That is enough," Calypso promised. "I told myself I would not even speak of this. I would let you go without even offering. But I can't. I suppose the Fates knew that, too. You could stay with me, Theodosia. I'm afraid that is the only way you could help me."

     I stared at the horizon. The first red streaks of dawn were lightening the sky. I could stay here forever, disappear from the earth. I could live with Calypso, with invisible servants tending to my every need. We could grow flowers in the garden and talk to songbirds and walk on the beach under perfect blue skies. No war. No prophecy. No more taking sides.

     But I knew the truth. "I can't," I told her.

     She looked down sadly.

     "I would never do anything to hurt you," I said, "but my friends need me. I know what to do now. I have to get back."

     She picked a flower from her garden—a sprig of silver moonlace. Its glow faded as the sunrise came up. Daybreak is a good time for decisions, Hephaestus had said. Calypso tucked the flower into my T-shirt pocket.

      She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the forehead, like a blessing. "Then come to the beach, my hero. And we will send you on your way."

     The raft was a ten-foot square of logs lashed together with a pole for a mast and a simple white linen sail. It didn't look like it would be very seaworthy, or even pondworthy.

"This will take you wherever you desire," Calypso promised. "It is quite safe."

I took her hand, but she let it slip out of mine. "Maybe I can visit you," I said.

She shook her head. "Nobody ever finds Ogygia twice, Theodosia. When you leave, I will never see you again."

"But—"

"Go, please." Her voice broke. "The Fates are cruel, Theodosia. Just remember me." Then a little trace of her smile returned. "Plant a garden in New York for me, will you?"

"I promise." I stepped onto the raft. Immediately it began to sail from the shore.

As I sailed into the lake I realized the Fates really were cruel. They sent Calypso someone she couldn't help but love. But it worked both ways. For the rest of my life I would be thinking about her.

Within minutes the island of Ogygia was lost in the mist. I was sailing alone over the water toward the sunrise. Then I told the raft what to do. I said the only place I could think of, because I needed comfort and friends. "Camp Half-Blood," I said, and found myself a bit choked up. "Sail me home."