Yes, I know I spell Chaptor oddly. But hey-I'm odd! here's all I've written so far. Sorry about the random spaces at the end of chaptors.
Prolog
By Citrine Gryphonson
A girl raised her pale hand. “Twenty thousand denarii, for the black haired gladiator.” She said.
At this the auctioneer said, “going once, going twice-“
“Thirty thousand denarii!” cried a man from the back. At once the girl made another bid, this one rather outrageous.
“Fifty thousand!”
“Going once…” said the auctioneer. For once, nobody answered. “Going twice…” still, no bids. “Sold!”-The man shot the girl a dirty look-“To the lady in the orange.”
The slave approached with great caution. He did not want another cruel master like the last one that had owned him. But the young woman merely tucked her hair from her face and said to him: “your name, young gladiator?” the man-boy really-flinched. He did not need another reminder of this new life he had.
“a-at the camp…you know where they trained us… they called me Theseus.” He answered nervously, looking down.
She cupped her hand and placed it under his chin, gently urging him to look up at her.
For a brief moment their eyes met, grey, mysterious ones to green frightened ones. For a moment they were neither mistress nor slave, nor friends nor enemies. In that brief moment they were equals. Peers. They both were frightened yet brave. They were both relaxed as if no harm could come to them there. For a minute they were gifted by the gods. In that single moment they knew all of each others secrets.
“I will call you Perseaus.”
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Chapter One: I Find a Very Strange Note
It all started when we moved. My father had recently died so my mother had to get a job which meant she couldn’t homeschool me, despite the fact that the schools in New York are terrible [Yes, I know you’ve been expelled from almost every school you’ve gone to Percy. Now shut up]. So there I was walking into school on my first day, wearing clothes that fitted me exactly, a black rock t-shirt and a pair of ratty jeans. I was comfortable in these clothes partly because they were physically comfortable-no itching lace or sequins- and partly because they reflected my personality: different. Tomboy. Intelligent. Troublemaker. The kind of person who didn’t care what others thought.
“Hey Tommy!”
Ugh. I so hoped there wouldn’t be teasers here. But who was I kidding? Of course there’d be teasers. Every school has teasers. And how had my old nickname followed me here? I turned around and nearly fainted.
A boy with black hair and coffee skin stood there. My archenemy. Michel. Chicken breath. No, seriously once, we both called each other that at the same time. Then we said “Jinx” at the same time.
“Hey Dora! I bet ya fifty cents I’ll remember my locker combination better!”
“Yeah right! I heard our math teacher’s gonna give us a surprise pop quiz! I’ll kick your butt in fourth period!”
Rubbish, I thought. Everyone knows I’m top in my math class. Or I was anyway before we moved. What did he have to gain by telling me this? It wouldn’t be a surprise then would it? Puzzling over this I went down to my locker and opened my zip-up notebook (yet another sign of my weirdness) and looked at the note with my locker combination on it. 13-32-33. easy enough, lots of threes. [Of course I remember that stupid tattoo. Now go away]
I reached into a pocket in my notebook and unfolded a drawing. It showed a blond teenage girl with a bloody stake (you know like you kill a vampire with) in one hand and her other hand was on her hip. She wore this look on her face like hey man, why don’t you go fly a kite or something? And in front of her was a teenage guy lying on the ground. He had messed up bronze hair and amber eyes. But the weirdest thing about him was that he sparkled. His pale skin looked almost tan compared to the points of light like a hundred diamonds were imbedded in his skin, and right where his heart should be was a gaping hole.
I’m not sure how I made the drawing glitter and I wished I knew how I did that so I could do it again. I’d drawn them in a clearing, she standing above him looking down with legs wide spread, he lying as if dead in front of her, sunlight streaming down to fall on his handsome face. In the background dark trees rose up imposingly with spider webs stretching across branches.
“Nice drawing.” said a voice.
I looked up to see a black girl with braces grinning at me.
“Thanks,” I said, a little weakly. “Do you understand it?”
The girl nodded. “That’s a sociopath that drinks blood,” she said pointing to the boy on the ground. “That’s a vampire slayer... And that’s ...” she squinted at the background. “It’s hard to tell but it looks like it says ‘and then Buffy staked Edward. The end.’”
I nodded. “I wrote that in the cobwebs to see if people would find it. What do you think?”
“I like it.”
“Cool.”
The girl opened her locker and began storing things inside it. I followed suit and taped up the drawing to the door. As I turned to put up another drawing- a portrait of a girl in a black-and-white plaid dress-to the back of my locker I saw it.
It lay on a piece of rumpled white cloth, as if it had just been unwrapped. I can’t describe it but if you know what a Greek column looks like then combine that with a spine.
I stared at it. I knew immediately what it was. It was a djed an Egyptian amulet used for stability, strength, renewed life-literally the backbone. But what was it doing here of all places? A random locker in a school in Brooklyn?
“Hey look at-“ I broke off, as I turned to where the girl was.
Or rather where she had been.
Right where she’d stood a moment ago the spot was empty, the locker closed and locked.
Or was it? I tugged at the handle on the locker and it swung open.
Inside it was empty. Or, almost anyway. Inside was a piece of paper that I picked up. It was written in hieroglyphics. Lovely I thought. I’m horrid at hieroglyphics. Once, at a camp we were translating them and I got mine done last. Oddly I could read these perfectly, as if I was reading English (and believe me I’m good at that).
Dear Ziva, it read.
How do they know my name? I wondered vaguely but I kept reading.
If you can read this you are already in danger. The Eclipse Society and the Serpents of Chaos may be trying to recruit you. DO NOT JOIN THEM UNDER ANY CICUMSTANCES. You will end up dead, without a coin for the ferryman and with a heavy heart. Do not keep the djed for longer than a few weeks at most. It holds the power of Osiris and should not be used by a novice unless in an emergency. Your name is not Ziva but Pearl, and you are not like other 14 year olds. I regret to say that I cannot explain fully in this letter, for fear it will be intercepted but I will do so as soon as we meet. Go to your apartment building after school and turn to Rah. Continue and you will find me within a few miles.
Goodbye and good luck,
Anubis Death Caller
Diamond
* * *
After school I headed back to our apartment. Before going into the building though, I hesitated. “Turn to Rah and you will find me.” Anubis’ words rang through my head. Rah was one of about five Egyptian gods of sun. He rode a chariot across the sky, then at night descended into the underworld to give hope to the lost souls who couldn’t find their way to the Hall of Judgment, which was like the Egyptian version of a court room after death. I was a little confused though, because legend had it that Isis, goddess of leadership and wife of Osiris wanted her husband on the throne so she poisoned Rah, telling him that she could heal him if he told her his True Name. He did, and she healed him but True Names have so much power it was like Rah was Isis’ slave-[Oops. Sorry Percy.]. After that and so she forced him to retreat to the heavens.
So how could I turn toward Rah if he had retreated to the sky? It was very confusing. Then I realized; the sunset. If the legends said that Rah had “retreated to the heavens” then wouldn’t it make sense for the sunset to be what Anubis meant? So instead of going inside I walked toward the sunset.
At this point in my life I did not have a lot of stamina. By the time I had went farther then a mile, I was every thirsty and needed a break. I put my backpack down and pulled out my water bottle, taking a long drink leaning against a building. As I drank I thought. Angus had said. “I heard our teachers gonna give us a math quiz.” True enough, our teacher (we were in the same class, unfortunately) Mr. Gardner had given us a math quiz to see how much we already knew. But why would Angus want to tell me this? I put to the back of my mind and continued on, singing to pass the time.
I sang “Holding Out For a Hero” [Ooh-I have a terrific idea. How about you go away and practice your defense while I finish this chapter, yes? Thank you, you are my best friend Percy.], “A Year Without Rain”, “Round and Round”, “Bohemian Rhapsody” and pretty much all the other ones I knew (save the Hebrew ones). I was in the middle of one of my favorites, “Viva La Vida” when the street ended. My voice faltered. In front of me was what might have once been a magnificent mansion. It was now wrecking ball worthy. I blinked. This was where the god of the newly dead lived? In Egyptian society a huge amount of time in this life was spent preparing for the next life. They would never have let the god of mummification live here. Come to think of it they wouldn’t have let ANY god live here.
Wait a minute. I blinked again. Was it..? Yes, it was. The wrecking-ball-worthy-once-beautiful mansion had been restored to its former glory. I was now looking at a house with Greek architecture, except that the pillars seemed to be covered in Egyptian hieroglyphs and bas reliefs, and the whole thing looked like it was made out of sandstone rather than marble. Slowly, I walked up to the door and knocked.
No answer.
I knocked again. Still, no answer. I reached out to open the door. It wasn’t locked. I went inside, and stared.
Inside, it was my dreams come true. I’m not kidding. Ever since I was little and first read about Egypt, it’s been my dream to have an Egyptian, ancient kind of house. I even drew blue prints for a pyramid shaped house complete with a two story library, with a platform and spiral staircase. This was even better. The room- ok, I probably shouldn’t call it a room. The, um, roofed courtyard was grand, with doors leading off of it in every direction. In the center of the room- err, courtyard, was a desk that was big enough for two. Behind the desk were two statues, one of a man with a tabulas and stilus (the roman/ Egyptian version of pen and paper) and a long necked bird head, with a yellow disk on top of a crescent moon on his headdress. Next to him was a statue of a woman wearing a sleeveless black fur dress, holding a palm branch and a stilus. I noticed something: on the palm were words. Not regular words, in English but in hieroglyphs, with ovals around them. The woman’s headdress was like a star with a bow around it.
Ringed around the room by the doors, were desks with computers on them. At the desks sat birds and baboons, typing essays while a few people played games, or researched Egyptian looking stuff on the computers animals weren’t using.
“Djahuti and Sasha.” I said immediately when I saw the statues.
The man at the desk looked up. Really, I hadn’t realized he was sitting there I was to busy staring at the statues. He had blond mussed hair, like Dr. Horrible, this guy from a movie my sister and I loved. He was wearing a white lab coat like Dr. Horrible too, but he was missing the goggles, and the coat was covered with stains that moved and wriggled.
“Oh, hello. Anubis was wondering when you’d come. I told him you wouldn’t, but it turns out he was right.” The man sighed. “Now I owe him ten pieces of papyrus. You will have gathered, I presume, that you know who I am?”
“Well, since you’re sitting right in front of that great big statue of Thoth, that you are either Thoth, or his son or something.” I said sarcastically.
He gave me a look. “You are right-or you would be if you didn’t act so sarcastic. Now here is a better question: who are you?”
“I am Ziva.” I said. “Ziva Shalit.”
Thoth looked at me thoughtfully. “Maybe.” He said slowly. “More likely you are something else entirely.”
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Chapter Two: A Guy With a Ridiculous Name Decides I Get to Fight to the Death
OK, first I am not going to tell you what happened with Ziva in the room. [Come on Ziva its not like you’d let me listen while you had the mic]
Hold on.
[Stomp]
[Muffled curses]
[OUCH! Percy that was my foot!]
OK. She’s-oh gods. [ZIVA I CAN TELL YOU’RE EAVESDROPPING!]
[Ziva if you didn’t let me listen to you do you really think I’m going to let you listen to me? you're way more annoying than I was, and I’m not exactly being modest. FINALLY, after I call annoying you leave?] Weird I got he impression it was her life's mission to be annoying t me. Anyway, I woke up and couldn’t remember a thing. (This is a spot where Ziva would make some sarcastic comment if she was here) I was in a room with a bunch of sleeping bags on the floor. It was bare aside from them and a table with a couple chairs at it. At first I thought it was empty. A guy with curly dark hair looked up from the table. He’d been sitting at an angle that prevented me from seeing him easily.
“Good, you're awake.” he said. “I don't suppose you'd know who your parent is, would you?” now, this would make perfect sense but with the amnesia I said something real smart like, “uhhh .....”
He smiled. “Never mind. Knowing those idiots who brought you in you probably can’t remember a thing. I’m Octavius by the way. Ironically, the eighth person in my family by that name. My dad’s Mercury.”
I stared at him. “Mercury? As in the poison?”
“As in the god.”
“Your dad is ..? Seriously, your dad is actually the god of roads?”
His smile faded. “Yeah. I’ve never actually met him though. The gods don’t tend be real social with their kids. If you’re here then you’re a demigod. The only question is who’s your patron?”
I got up. “What do you mean ‘who’s my patron’?”
Octavius tossed me a purple shirt. “Put that on. By ‘patron’ I mean your Godly Parent. That’s what we call it here in Rome. You don’t look Roman-maybe you’re Greek. For your sake I hope you’re a son Mars-oh, sorry god of war. The Greeks call him Ares.”
As he talked I changed into the clothes he handed me-a purple t-shirt and jeans-and I asked questions, he answered.
“Why do you hope I’m son of Ares?” I asked.
He paused for a second, so fast I wasn’t sure if I imagined it or not. “Because … I guess I should say. I don’t like talking about it but I guess I kinda have to.” He took a deep breath and continued.
“Because if you’re from another Pantheon-especially the Greeks- you’ll be sent to the arena. At least you’ll be trained. Some criminals are sent in there with a dagger against a bunch of tigers. But if you’re a son of Mars, or Ares then you’ll be treated a lot better then the others. Ares and … what’s her name? Aphrodite, that’s it.
“We Romans believe we’re all descendents of Venus and Mars-the goddess of love and god of War. Some how I doubt you’re a son of Venus though. anyway, if you’re a son of Mars or Venus then you wont be sent to the arena-even if you’re born of their Greek counterparts. But if not … or if you’re born of another pantheon … there’s no way around it. You’ll be given gladiatorial training and sent to the arena. So, here goes. Do you know who your parents are?”
I cannot tell you how much this question hit me in the face. Up until that point the whole amnesia thing hadn’t really how should I put this? Slowed me down? Maybe. I sat down at the table, my head in my hands. And thought.
I know, I know, you’re thinking what, you have amnesia and all you do is think? But honestly, at the time it was the first time that came to my mind.
I’m not sure how I did it. I just sat down and racked my memories. Mom? Nothing. Siblings? One … maybe two. I couldn’t remember their names or anything though. home? That was easy. New York. I’m not sure how I knew, I just did. friends? Nothing. Pets? A dog. Definitely a dog. Again, I couldn’t remember its name or what type of dog it was. Some other pet to. A horse maybe. And, finally I came to inevitable. My father? Yes. Here I remembered everything. Every quote, every gift, every time I ever saw him.
I looked up at Octavius. “My father is Medisius.”
His eyes grew wide. “You can’t mean Pegasus’ brother ..?”
I nodded. “I do.”
Ok, in case you’ve never heard of Medisius, he’s a deity from Oquazine, which is a land so far away the only people on Earth who’ve heard of it (aside from people who have connections, like knowing gods there) are the teens and middleschoolers who’ve beaten the video game wizard101. and, of course their version of Oquazine is so twisted its almost nothing like the original-in fact, possibly the only things the two have in common is they’re both underwater, and both their peoples worship the sky.
Medisius is the Oquzinian god of the sea. He’s a very important deity. In fact, the four goddesses of the sky and dance; Layla, goddess of night, Sandra, goddess of earth and stars, Luma, goddess of the moon and Firosa, goddess of fire (all kinds) are said to be his wives. In the Oquazinian mythology, when Medusa’s blood dripped into the ocean it became three beings: the twin winged horses, Pegasus and Pegasa, and Medisius. Medisius was a bit of a born rebel and took Pegasa and flew to Oquazine. He didn’t actually know where he was going till he got there and discovered a flourishing Greek-like world-except for one thing. The world was basically a set of islands and every day the people had to sacrifice huge amounts of their food so the sea didn’t kill them. In the center of the smallest island was a city-well, actually the city took up most of the space on the island. In the center of the city was the Tree of Life. The city gave the world its name-and its gods.
Medisius saw what was going on and it turned out the four goddesses (Firosa, Layla, Luma and Sandra) needed someone to keep the sea at bay-and even offered all of their hands in marriage to whoever could do it.
So far everyone had failed. So Medisius and Pegasa did it and he got his position as god of sea and husband of the four goddesses of the sky.
In the center of Oquazine (both city and world) was the Tree of Life. It bore the fruit of the gods-if anyone else ate it they cascaded into a pile of ashes. What’s more the fruit granted the eater immortality and tasted like their favorite food. It could only be eaten by a mortal if the gods gave them permission. Another fact about the Silver Fruit: it lost its power outside Oquazine, the city of the gods’ walls.
Anyway, so Medisius ate the Silver Fruit, married the Quartet etc, etc … and, apparently fathered me.
Oh … one more fact about the tree of life: Sandra wrote the names of great people, no matter their social or political rank on it. This may seem irrelevant but the idea is that when the apocalypse comes the people who have their names written on the tree will be reborn as the kings’ advisers when the gods remake the world.
So, I told Octavius what I just told you, and by the end he was practically staring at me.
“This … this is bad.” Was all he said.
Learning your dad is from a foreign pantheon can really screw up your day.
After I told Octavius what I knew he looked at me real sad and said; “look man, I’m sorry about this.” He reached into his back pocket and pull out-a pair of handcuffs. I knew what came next. I held my hands out in front of me. He cuffed them.
“Close your eyes.”
I stared at him. “What’d ya mean ‘close my eyes’?” I was half afraid to ask.
“There’s a passage to take you to the arena. If you know where it is … lets say Lupa doesn’t want any escapees.” Unwillingly I closed my eyes and Octavius blindfolded me. I don’t know where he led me, but within ten minutes he un-blindfolded me.
I was standing at the edge of a courtyard. In the courtyard a dozen teens drilled with wooden swords. At the edge of the group a bald guy in armor barked orders.
“High! Mid! Low! High! Mid! Low! That’s what you call fighting Jordan? I’ve seen mortals do better!” I heard a blond guy mutter, “yeah right. Mortals use fists dummy.”
“I heard that!” there was a crack and the boy-Jordan? - doubled over and cried out. The man went back to his cries of “high! Mid! Low!” until Octavius called out, “Brutus!” the man looked up.
“Octavius! What’ve you got for me here? Another Greek kid?”
“No. Oquazinian. He claims to be a son of Medisius.”
Brutus looked me up and down as I did the same. He was burly, with a face like someone had carved a bust of someone with a brooding, suspicious look on his face while having the vaguest idea of what a human face looked like. His eyes were beady, with a wrinkled uni-brow. His nose had a chunk out of it and his mouth was surrounded by frown lines. He wore roman armor and sandals. He didn’t have a helmet on-I got the feeling in a real fight he wouldn’t need it. He held a whip in his hand, but that didn’t scare me for some reason. What scared me was his face.
I might’ve imagined it but Brutus didn’t seem to like what he saw either. “Come on cupcake. Let’s get you toughed up.”
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A Triangular Stuffy Hits Me on the Forehead
[I guess I’d better let Ziva in now. She’s yelling.]
[Thank you Percy. I might actually let you stay in the room this time-we’ll see.]
Ok let’s get back on track here: thoth just hinted that I wasn’t who I actually was [or are. Thank you for the reminder that I am still the same person, Percy. Why, I’d almost forgotten!]
“Wha-what d’you mean I’m something else entirely?”
Thoth put on a pair of glasses that had been resting on the top of his head-just like Dr.Horrible’s goggles-And got up from the desk. “You’ll have to ask Sasha or Anubis what I mean. I’m really far to busy to answer a mortal’s questions right now.
“Now you may want to close your eyes lest you be blinded.” I obeyed, and when I opened my eyes he was gone. The mansion had changed to; there was a 50 foot long snake skin rug lying on the floor. The rug wound its way to the end of the hall where a huge set of double doors stood. There were to spiral staircases on the side of the room. Next to one, there was a glass door onto a patio. On the other side there was what appeared to be a Egyptian temple stuck into the wall. The only thing the same was the desk: the snakeskin seemed to just weave around it in a kin of spiral-wait a minute. The rug had been a zigzag. So why was it spiraling now? I looked closer-and it was both. I cant describe it but it was kinda like there were two lairs to the room-one was what the room had been with the snake skin in a spiral and one was what the room was now with the rug in a zigzag.
“Hello?” my voice echoed through the room.
“Yeah? Oh, sorry.” came a voice back. I saw an Asian girl get up from the floor where she’d been lying on the rug reading. She had medium length black hair with red, brown and blond highlights. She was wearing a t-shirt that said don’t be afraid to sing! And had a picture of a wolf howling at the moon and a black and white short skirt. The whole outfit was topped off with a pair of high striped green, pink and black socks and a hat that matched her skirt. “Hey. I’m Autumn. What’s your name?” she stated. She said it calmly, as if she had all the time in the world and we’d met in a class project, not in a clearly-magical mansion.
“I’m Ziva. What is this place?” I responded.
“You mean you don’t know?” there was a hint of confusion in Autumn’s voice, but not much. “It’s a-school I suppose you’d call it. For people with … special abilities. Come up to my room and I’ll explain better.” She pointed to the stair on the left side of the room. “Come on.” She headed to the stair and I followed.
“It’s on the third floor,” she called over her shoulder. “Be careful though-this place is old.” We continued up the stair until we’d walked to flights. Autumn led me down the hall into a square room.
It was clearly a bedroom, but it was unlike any other bedroom id ever seen. The bed was covered in pokemon stuffies, so many I half-wondered how she slept. At the back of the room was a sushi bar and minifridge, complete with a beta fish in a bowl. The closet door was thrown open revealing a punk-Goth wardrobe that cascaded off the shelves and hangers onto the floor. Next to the bed was a long and low bookshelf, the top of which had all sorts of things on it-Beatles and Queen CDs, a netbook, two Chinese lucky cats, a mug filled with pencils, painted and unpainted figurines, the cast of a wolfs paw, a photo of a German Shepard puppy and all sorts of other things.
Autumn plopped onto her bed sending stuffied animals falling to the floor. “sit down,” she told me. “It’ll take a while to explain.” I sat down, trying to not nock anything to the ground. It didn’t exactly work.
Autumn took a deep breath. “You should know everything-about them, this place … and about me.” As she said this she reached up and fingered her hat, then pulled it off. I gasped-she had wolf ears. They were black speckled with brown and blond. “You see these ears? They’re my curse you could say. I was born in Japan. When I was eight we moved here-to America. I was adopted by an American couple, but we stayed in Japan. I don’t know why, but we did. About a year after we moved, when we were vacationing in the mountains I did something stupid. I went hiking on my own. I got lost, and stayed out there for the night. I hadn’t told my parents where I was going.
“When I woke up I was hungry and thirsty-I’d finished what was in my pack before I went to sleep. I tried to find my way back to the trail-it was by a stream-but I couldn’t. Instead I found a spot where a wolf had walked by the day before. It had rained in the night, but only barely so the track had water in it.
“I hadn’t read the legends-I thought werewolves were only caused by biting. So I took a drink. That was my mistake. Eventually I found my way back but,” Inu gulped. “That night the moon was full. It was my first Month-I couldn’t control myself yet …”
Unfortunately I knew what she meant. “I’m sorry.”
Aurumn shook her head. “There’s nothing you can do. I made my way to New York, living homeless. A few years later Anubis came. He said he had an opportunity for me-that he was like me.
“I’m not like normal werewolves-most, they become a wolf at the full moon and the rest of the time they’re normal. Not me. The tracks I drank from were those of Lycaon himself-the first werewolf. I’m a Lumanian werewolf. Its means that depending on the moon phase parts of me are wolf. The first night of the cycle I always have these, no matter what. tonight is the First Crescent. On the last night of Waxing Gibbous Moon I have all the features of a wolf except for my mind. That stays the same.
“You know the Egyptian mythology? Well, it’s true. Anubis says most mythology is. This place … it’s called the Twenty-First Nome. Here magicians train. We also keep an eye on the magic in the area. We’re probably descended of the gods, you and me. When that happens its called ‘blood of pharaohs’. Anubis can tell you more. He’s-oh, there he is.” I heard the distant opening of a door. If Inu hadn’t pointed it out or stopped talking I probably wouldn’t’ve noticed it. Autumn got up and we headed downstairs. When I reached the bottom of the stair I walked right into Autumn-I hadn’t realized she’d stopped, I was so busy staring at the boy by the desk. It was Michel. I don’t mean this guy looked like Michel-I have a photographic memory [Percy says my memory isn’t actually photographic, it’s like a painted portrait but I don’t care] and this guy was Michel. Same face, complexion, everything.
“HOLY CHEESE PUFFS!” [Percy also says I make up the oddest swears. I suppose he’s right.]
Immediately a small triangular stuffy thing raced down the stairs, ran up to me and... Hit me on the forehead with its curled antenna? It jumped up, squealed, and nodded its head, hitting me on the forehead gently. I bent over and picked it up.
The creature was bright pink and triangular in shape. It had stubby little arms, a bunny tail, short legs, freckles and huge eyes. It also had an antenna twice as long as its body, not counting the curled bit at the end. Its eyes were enormous and round and it had a wide little mouth that somehow made it even more adorable [Percy says its ridiculous looking, I’m such a girl] it squealed in a friendly sort of way, folded its antenna into my hands and snuggled up against it chirping “It’s so cute!” I said beaming.
“She is a spirit of randomness. Her name is Prunella. If you say something random, she hits you on the forehead with her antenna. Quite similar to the spirits of Chaos, though randomness is less … focused on war. Randomness is more about hilarity.”
I looked up at Anubis? Michel? “Are you … are you Michel or Anubis?”
A flicker of a smile passed across his lips. “Both I suppose. Did Inu explain about the gods’ hosts?” very confused, I shook my head. “Ah. Well, the gods cannot exist on the earth without an anchor, something to keep them from slipping into the Duat, as magicians use magic to keep themselves connected with the earth. You could call it possessing; however it is not true possession. In true possession, the possessed gets no benefits. It’s more of a symbiotic relationship, where the human gives the god creativity as the god gives the mortal power and experience. Usually the mortal or god takes over almost completely; however there have been, on rare occasions times when god and mortal see eye and eye, a perfect union.
“The Egyptians believed their kings were gods. Archeologists think this was mere propaganda, but in fact many times it was actually true-the pharaohs often hosted Horus or Isis.”
“You mean the gods are actually real?” I was skeptical at first-of course I was. “Are the other gods real to? Or just Egyptian?”
Anubis gestured at the patio. “Let’s sit down,” He suggested.
When we were all seated (except Autumn, who went back to reading in the entrance room) Anubis said, “Now, you’re wondering a few things.” he didn’t pose it as a question. He knew it was true.
“Yes.” I responded.
“The Twelve Olympians are real to. They however do not need hosts. Only the Fates know why. Perhaps because they also have their Roman forms, where as Egyptians are rather stubborn and refuse to change.”
“Autumn said she and I are probably descended from the gods.”
“Osiris happened to be the first pharaoh of Egypt. All the dynasties of Egypt are related to the gods some how. That’s one claim we have that the Greeks don’t.” he added smugly. I heard a splash in the pool, and looked over to see a white thing on the surface of the water.
“What ..?”
“Oh don’t worry. Phillip is quite harmless.” He said this with a completely straight face.
“You have a white crocodile named Phillip?”
“Phillip of Macedonia, yes.” I stared at him. “Anyway, that is not the point. You have more questions, yes?”
“What about magicians? Are they blood of pharaohs to?”
Anubis smiled and tipped his hand from side to side. “Sometimes. We are a bit rebellious here at the Twenty-First Nome. Desjardins despises the both the gods and their descendents. Most of the magicians who are blood of pharaohs are descended from younger sons sent off to become priests, so they’re very rare as most siblings of pharaohs became advisers.”
“Ok .. Thoth said something about me not being who I appear to be.”
Anubis sat back. “I hate prophecies.” He said.
I looked at him confused. “What do you mean ‘I hate prophecies’?”
Anubis sighed. “You know Seth, god of destruction?”-I nodded-“well, he’s never been happy with his corner of the world. Last year he made a bid for the throne. Isis and Horus stopped him, but something worse is stirring-the Serpent. Ages ago, there was a prophecy that-well, I’ll tell it to you.
‘When three nations of gods come together,
Seth will rise as Apophis stirs,
The iron dagger chaos shall bring;
And gladiator’s sword be found.’ ”
“What does that have to do with me?” I was even more confused now than I was before. [Shut up Percy, I know my virtual buds constantly refer to me as the confused type.] I mean, what does this have to do with the new girl in a school in Brooklyn? But Anubis explained.
“We haven’t had much luck recruiting blood of pharaohs. Autumn and two siblings, Sarah and Kane are all the Twenty-First Nome has so far. Sarah and Kane are in Egypt, searching for an initiate of the First Nome, Rivka David. Apollo says the next three magicians the twenty-first nome takes in will be different. Special.” He pronounced ‘david’ the Israeli way, which is ‘duh-veed’.
“How did you know where to find me? And what about the djed?” I asked.
“We keep tabs on those who we think might be blood of pharaohs. Nut is an, ah, good friend of Zeus. He allowed us to use one of his Satyrs to keep and eye on you.” I remembered a friend of mine, back in DC, Piper, who nibbled on soda cans, had think, dark, curly hair and knew a ton about Greek mythology. I frowned. “I thought Nut was forbidden from seeing those she, um, liked. Like her husband, Geb.” I was puzzled. Nut was the goddess of the sky who’d been punished by Rah, who said she couldn’t have any kids. Too late, her husband, Geb had already gotten her pregnant. Thoth made five more days that he added to the end of the year out of moonlight (which is why the moon waxes and wanes) on which she gave birth to Nepthys, Isis, Osiris, Seth and one other who I always forget. Anyway, so as her punishment for giving birth Rah separated her from her husband.
Anubis smiled. “What Rah doesn’t know since he’s retreated to the heavens won’t hurt him. Besides, I hear Nut has come up with a way of not getting pregnant. The djed was a kind of gift from Sarah and Kane. You have read Rick Riordon’s book the Red Pyramid?”
I nodded. “That’s the book about those siblings Sadie and Carter, right?”
“Correct. Their names were changed, however. Another favor Zeus granted us. Rick Riordon is the scribe at Camp Half-Blood.”
“but,-now don’t get me wrong here, Piper’s awesome-you can’t afford to send a satyr after every blood of pharaohs there is out there, right?”
Anubis sat forward. “Ah. Yes, you are right. This is the reason we chose you to have a satyr. You are not just any blood of pharaohs. Your father was descended from Yosef, an adviser in Pharaoh Rasui Ahkmes’s court. Your mother on the other hand... She was a goddess.”
What? That made no sense. First he says the gods are real, and then he says G-d is real, and then he goes back to the gods again?! “Wait a minute,” I said pointing at him. “First you say the gods are real, and now you’re telling me G-d is real? Pick one, Mister. I don’t know about you, but where I come from, people pick a religion and stick to it.” I put some edge into my voice. A little more than I meant to.
Anubis held up his hands. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to confuse you. We don’t know for sure that G-d is real, however there is considerably proof that the gods exist. We really mustn’t deal with the metasophical. That is for Djahuti and Athena to discuss. It is true; however that Yosef was an adviser of the pharaoh. Whether or not he interpreted dreams from G-d is up for debate.
“Ziva, your mother is Layla, Oquazinian goddess of Pearls and the Night.”
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I Become a Fish Man
“How old are ya cupcake?”
I didn’t know what to say. So I didn’t answer.
“Gladiator I asked you a question. You would do well to answer me.” Brutus growled. His whip hand twitched, threateningly and his voice rose.
“I-I don’t know sir.” I managed to stammer. I glanced behind me, but Octavius was gone. Coward.
“Another amnesiac, eh? Just what do you think you’re looking at boy?” Brutus prowled around me like a leopard, so I couldn’t keep and eye on his whip all the time. “Your little protectors gone now. You’re the hands of the gods now.” He grinned crookedly revealing gapping teeth. “And mine. You look to be early thirteen, maybe fourteen. Too bad, that. Good thing we’re in California. Nobody investigates a summer camp out in the mountains, huh? Never suspect we might be runnin’ an illegal fighting force for teens. If you’re an amnesiac then you certainly don’t remember your name. I’ll call you Theseus-maybe the name will give you some courage.” There was the loud sound of laughing and I realized the other kids were watching us.
“Now cupcakes! Let’s get back to work! Jordan get Theseus a sword.”
Jordan nodded nervously and ran to get a wooden sword from a shelf at the back. He ran back to Brutus, shaking. Brutus looked at the sword for a moment then said, “How do you expect this boy to get any blows on his enemy with a sword like that? He could barely lift it! Get him something his size!” this went on and on until Jordan finally managed to please Brutus. Almost immediately he made me partner up with a large, dark boy for the swordfighting. “High! Mid! Low! High! Mid! Low!” the cries resumed and I learned there was a rhythm. The dark boy would hit, depending on the cry, and I would try to block it. If I failed-guess what! I got a whack on the head from a wooden sword.
It felt like days but I was sure it was really only an hour or so later Brutus led us inside for “dinner.”
As I sat on the bench I stared at what they called food in front of me-barley porridge and corn bread. The cornbread was stale and the porridge course and lumpy.
“Eat up boys!” cried Brutus. “You get ash for dessert!” I stared at him. “You’re kidding.” I said flatly.
He gave that crooked grin again. “You’re not.” I corrected myself at the look on his face. “You won’t get much else to eat, Gladiator.” He growled.
I gulped and ate the stuff. It tasted as disgusting as it looked. The ash afterward caught in my throat and nearly choked me. Then we went back to training, this time with staffs.
And so it went. On and on, every day. We practiced with staffs, gladii, or straight swords, scilii or curved swords, sword and shield, trident. We practiced in armor and out of armor.
Eventually came the day when I chose what kind of gladiator I would train as from now on. There was Thracian, who fought with sword and shield-but they wore a lot of padding on their legs. I could become a Retarius, and fight with a net and trident. Brutus had the armor and wooden weapons out for us to look at, figure out what we wanted to train as. Secutor? No. they could barely see with the helmet they wore. An Andabatus? Then I could fight on horseback. But, no. I’d rather have to clean out the stables of firebreathing horses without anything to keep me from roasting than charge blindly. Essedarius? I didn’t think I could control a horse drawn chariot while trying to kill. A Samnite? The crest on the helm would prove a huge disadvantage in a fight, and it covered the face. Not a Velitus. I wasn’t going to charge into battle without any armor and armed just with a spear. Certainly not a Dimachaerious. I couldn’t fight with two swords. It would be like giving my opponent a free weapon.
And then I saw it. Its helmet allowed clear vision but still protected my head sufficiently. I would be carrying two of my best weapons: a short one-handed sword and a medium sized shield.
I would become a Myrmillio.
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I Pretty Much Kill Myself
I sat back. “Ok,” I said, “so the woman who raised me isn’t my mother? And what happened to my dad?’
Anubis winced. “Unfortunately we don’t know what happened to your father. No, the woman who raised you was not your mother. Most likely what happened was that your father married a mortal, so you could, hopefully lead a fairly normal life should anything happen to him.”
A lump formed in my throat. Even Anubis, god of Death didn’t know what’d happened to my dad. I tried not to think about it to much though, because whenever I started thinking of Abbah I started to break down. Right now though, I had more important things to think about. Who (or what) Oquazine was for starters.
As it turned out Oquazine was yet another pantheon. When I asked what happened to their human society on Earth Anubis told me they had none-the Oquazinian gods were of another universe, one called the World Vine. Apparently, the World Vine acted like a black hole, sucking in all the worlds near it that didn’t have their own solar system. Anubis also said that he would show me a picture of the World Vine but it is said that the World Vine is shaped like a capitol J, but with the bar going on into Infinity.
He told me some of the mythology about Oquazine-how Medisius held the sea at bay, how the four SkyDancing Sisters had each their own item of power and corner of the sky-Layla, who ruled the Night with her Cloak of Darkness, Sandra, who scattered the stars through the sky to bring hope to those lost, Firosa, who forged a new SunChariot in the night and Luma, who guarded the earth from the forces of evil from her perch behind the moon.
I learned of Din, summer-south wind and Chavi, winter-north wind. I learned of Al Lanna, with her fiery temper and Werli Dahn, who was as gentle as she was magical. I learned of Pegesa, mother of Winds, goddess of air with flowing wings behind her as she carried Medisius to Oquazine.
I learned of Celsta, mother of the SkyDancers, like a white angel with pale hair, as beautiful as the Sirens, goddess of beauty and maiden of the sky. I learned of the mortal man who saw Celsta bathing, and fell in love with her. He stole her wings and hid them, promising she could have them back only if she married him. So she married him, yet he did not give the wings. Soon after Celsta became pregnant and gave birth to Layla. After that came copper-haired Firosa, then Sandra and finally, Luma. Layla was old enough now to see that her mother was sad and longed for her home among the clouds.
So Layla and her sisters found the wings and stole them back, and then gave them to their mother. And Celsta was so happy she gave her daughters immortality before returning to the air.
Anubis told me about Mumfess, god of music. He told me about Rebbisha’a, goddess of wisdom. There was Willow, goddess of love, but not beauty… it would take a week to list them all.
After he told me all this Anubis told me something else to; there was another demigod born of Oquazine-something very rare. Problem? He was captured-by the Romans. The Romans aren’t very friendly when it comes to demigods of other pantheons, apparently. [Shut up Percy, I know that now. I just didn’t then.] The other problem was, he had no name.
Anubis gave me a brief description; wild black hair, sea-green eyes, tan, early teens. Excellent swimmer.
It was my job to rescue him.
“…but I suggest that you get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning. Your room is to the right of Inu’s.” Anubis finished the conversation, rather abruptly, I thought.
“What about my stuff ..?”
“Oh, all that’s been taken care of.”
I tossed Anubis a confused look, but headed up…and my jaw dropped.
It was my room. Now, I don’t mean a replica of my room, because if that was what it was I probably would’ve screamed. My room is a mess with a capitol M. no, this was my room the way I wanted to look like, not the way it was.
The bedspread was black-and-white striped, with black and hot pink pillows. On the wall there was a painting of a bunch of zebras running from two lionesses. Speaking of the walls, they were hot pink with a black border at the top. The closet doors were open, revealing more clothes like what I was wearing-black jeans, grey t-shirts, converses, high striped socks, plaid short skirts-you get the idea. There was also a silver laundry bin and two sets of pajamas and one nightgown.
At the back of the room there was a minifridge and a bar. I opened the fridge to discover it was filled to the brim with rootbeer, pizza, and cinnamon rolls-my favorite snacks. Behind the bar there was a microwave, an ice bucket and cabinets with four of everything-two in blue and two in red. I wondered how I was supposed to wash the dishes until I noticed a sink built into the bar. I pulled out a rootbeer, poured it into a blue glass and sipped. Mm. Barqs, my favorite brand. [Yes Percy, I can tell the difference from taste. Wouldn’t you be able to tell if someone was giving you Pepsi instead of Coke?]
As I drank I observed the rest of the room. Across from the bed were two bookshelves, black with white shelves. From the top of one hung a sign that read; LIBRARY. From the other hung a sign that read, OWNED AND BORROWED. On the shelf at eyelevel on the ‘library’ one was a sign that said; overdue/due in the next 3 days/return. On the shelf above it the sign said, due in the next 2 weeks. Below there was also a ‘manga and graphic novels’ section and a ‘due in 3 weeks’ on the other there was a borrowed shelf, on which there was a single book. I knew as soon as I saw it what it was: SwordBird. My friend Rachel had lent it to me, before Abbah died. I’d never gotten a chance to read it.
Out of curiosty, I went over to my shelf and picked up a brown book with a picture of a dragon on it: the Bronze Dragon Codex. I opened it up …. And gasped. When I was ten, I was at a renaissance festival. Outside the bookstore there, there was a woman signing copies of her book, The Bronze Dragon Codex. I bought a copy and she autographed it, to me. It said something like this: Ziva, seek friendship with dragons! Anne Rotrich.
I opened up this copy of Bronze Dragon Codex… and it was the same copy. There, plain as day, were the words; to Margelet! Seek friendship from dragons! Signed, Anne R. Rotrich. I’d forgotten that was when I was going by my middle name. The one that meant, ‘pearl.’
In that moment I fully realized what I had to do. I knew that whether it looked it or not, everything around me was magical. And I knew what I was going to do was very, very dangerous. Most people would never have dared even try it. But that’s how I am. Sometimes I do stupid things, but somehow they always end up better in the long run. I would most likely get captured-but I didn’t care.
So I started packing, quietly as I could. Neither Inu nor Anubis should know of what I was doing. When I was done, I looked out the window. I felt as if I could fall out and land right in San Francisco. But I didn’t. No matter how stupid I can be I will never be that stupid. Instead I waited till the middle of the night. Then I snuck out a back door.
The son of Medisius was waiting.
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A Dagger Steals my Shield
Everything changed that fateful day. I stood before the Gate of Life my dark hair flopping in my eyes. The hair turned out to have a slight advantage-it helped shield my eyes from the bright September sun. On my left arm hung a round shield with a picture of the Minotaur painted onto it. In my right hand was a short sword-a gladius, as these Romans called it.
“Go salute the imperator, boy.” Growled a voice in my ear. A hand shoved a helmet with a fish crest. I held it in my left hand and went outside.
The sun was bright, and it was fortunate that there was a huge red awning spread over the top of the arena. I looked up-and there she was.
Now, the Romans usually didn’t refer to a woman as imperator, which means emperor in Latin, but-this woman deserved it.
She wore a deep purple tunic and a wreath of golden laurel, but that wasn’t what made her so beautiful-or terrible. She had tanned skin, and a fit body from what I could see. Her long black hair was wavy and hung loose running down her shoulders. She had a cold, tough, displeased expression and golden eyes I dared not look into. Her arms were crossed and she looked down at us-no, me. I could’ve sworn she told me something silently, like, so, we meet again Son of Medisius. But I knew that was crazy. Oddly, I got the feeling she might have a caring, motherly side to. She uncrossed her arms and spread them heavenward.
She had claw like hands.
“Praise Mars!” the Empress cried. “For blood shall flow at my feet, in the name of the gods, because Mars has given us good gladiators, for battle. This shall be entertaining indeed.”
I might’ve gotten mad but instead I raised my hand, just as we all did. We looked like were about to say “Heil Hitler!” or something. I glanced to my side. There was a girl with black hair with blue highlights. “Well boy? One of us has to win, and if you won’t I will. Don’t worry your life’ll be fine. Better, in fact.” I was too stunned to react. Luckily I was saved by the empress saying, “Scourge, tell them the words.”
A small black man with a spiked dog collar smiled and stood up. He too had claw like hands. “Gladiators!” he said commandingly. “Repeat after me. AVE, CAESAR! MORITURI TE SULAMUS!”
I knew what that meant. It meant, “Hail Emperor! We who are about to die salute you!”
After we all announced our deaths, the order of the fights was announced-and who we were fighting. I was going first. Against a Dimachaerious. One that happened to be the girl I’d seen earlier.
We went back to through the Gate of Life, where the girl (her name was Arillania meaning Lioness) and I began doing the warm ups. Roughly ten minutes later we walked out into the arena. There we stood, across from each other, at the edge of the circular arena.
The Empress rose from her seat on a silver throne. She accepted a strange black dagger from a servant. She took it up in her right hand and cut a long and narrow gash on her arm. After doing so to the other arm she pressed them together and held the dagger in both hands, extending her arms forward out into the arena. Then she said, “Mars, god of war, with this dagger of iron I sacrifice to you my blood, in hope that you may approve and begin this fight.” then dropped the Iron Dagger.
I knew what was next. I knew it was coming. I closed my eyes. I heard a thud, and I opened my eyes.
The Iron Dagger lay in front of me. Carefully, I unstrapped my shield, from my arm. That was what happened when the Dagger landed in front of you. You gave up one of your weapons for the fight. In the distance there was a horn blowing and the voice of Scourge calling out, “Let the Games begin (Latin)!” and a rush of noise in my ears.
The fight had begun.
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I Lose a Sword
You know how they say before you die your life flashes before you? That’s not true. Before you die your training flashes before you and reflexes kick in. since the Iron Dagger had landed before Theseus, I got to make the first move. I circled him, slowly, looking for a weakness. And that was when I heard it.
“Percy! Percy, please don’t do this!”
It came from behind me. I whirled around, scilii at the ready; to see a girl with curly red hair pulled back and blue-green eyes reaching out over the arena. That was odd. Women didn’t usually sit in the front row.
“Percy, you don’t have to do this! It’s a trap!” she looked desperate, as if she had traveled around the world searching for this “Percy”, only to discover he was happy where he was or something.
But I couldn’t focus on the girl though. I came at him, one sword raised in defense, the other reversed to attack. I didn’t want a glorious death. I didn’t want to give these-as much as it pains me to use this word-heathens the satisfaction of this gory ‘entertainment’. I wanted this fight to be over, and fast.
The black-haired boy bent his knees ready, on his toes. As I approached he grinned, ducked, and did a shoulder roll, slashing at my back thighs as he rolled between my legs. Luckily I was quick enough to jump up, tucking my legs underneath me. I flipped over in midair, and turned around on my toes. And then it hit me: the girl was gone. In her place a guard stood.
“Theseus”s name was really Percy. She must have gotten arrested for trying to save him. But why hadn’t he reacted when she said his name? Then I remembered: Anubis had said that the Romans took in a lot of amnesiac demigods of other pantheote. [Yes Percy, that really *IS* my word for more than one pantheon.] The idea was that if they couldn’t remember their past they weren’t as likely to run away from the gladiator training.
Percy slashed, but ended up getting a nice gash on his arm for his efforts. His name for this fight was “Achilles”. Go figure. I crouched low waiting for his next attack. He ran, barreling into me. I jumped out of the way, but I wasn’t fast enough. He succeeded in cutting my leg. It stung, but I grit my teeth and continued fighting.
I held one sword reversed out to my side, the other to my other side. I advanced, then began spinning-unfortunately Percy grabbed my arm and threw me over his shoulder. One of my swords landed outside the battle circle. Out of bounds. Still I had my left sword. I smiled. Being ambidextrous has its advantages. I leapt up, dodging Percy’s next attack and bringing my sword down. Unfortunately, his sword met mine and I fell on top of him.
We tussled for about five minutes, at the end of which he had a cut on his cheek. Apparently Percy wasn’t too happy about for that, because he made a slash at me. I turned quickly, avoiding getting my head lopped off-and losing some of my hair in the process. I brought my sword up, down and around, meeting his. Eventually, after pushing against each other’s swords for a minute Percy won and pushed down, thinking it would end up stabbing me.
It didn’t quite work out the way he planned.
See, I may not look it, but I’m actually pretty strong. I was able to push it to the side instead, and stab my scilius into the sand. Then I hooked my leg underneath one of Percy’s, -which, was fairly easy given the way he was leaning to hold onto my scilius-and pushed, throwing him onto the ground.
Immediately he rolled back, getting up. Of course, I was off my guard but as soon as he came at me my instincts kicked in. I kicked him -sadly, far lightly. He winced, but barely took notice. Before I knew it, I was disarmed and his sword was at my throat. I sank down to my knees, knowing I was defeated. Slowly, I raised my left hand, the symbol of defeat and asking for mercy. Silently, I sent up a prayer to Half Vision, the Oquazine goddess of wolves, Time and Mercy.
Perhaps I was lucky that day, or perhaps Half Vision who was named for her two eyes, one brown that saw the past, the other gray that saw the future was listening to my prayers. Either way, I am sitting here today, in my room with Percy rolling his eyes at my spiritual ness. I closed my eyes and heard, the jeering and I could guess what it was. I opened my eyes and knew for sure. The crowd was waving thumbs up.
I took a deep breath and waited for my Death.
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The Empress and I Have a Heart-To-Heart
I gazed down at Arillania, her gray eyes pleading silently. I hadn’t really realized it before, but there it was-this time I wasn’t fighting a straw dummy, or a Scythian Dracaena. This time it was real, live, murder I would be doing. This girl was human. She had a soul. It was...it was like killing my brother-which, then again I had done once. Wait a minute. Where had that come from? I pushed the thought out of my mind though.
Despite the fact that the crowd wanted me to kill her-those idiot Romans do the thumbs thing backwards-I couldn’t do it. This was a Soul I was Reaping. I didn’t know where it would go, if it would go to the Palace of Elysium or Fields of Punishment or just to stand in Asphodel forever. I could see she did not fear Death. Brave girl, to be that way. [Shut up Ziva, I know brave means doing something even though you’re afraid-thank you for reminding me.]
What I saw in her pleading eyes told me something else: she had become a gladiatrix for a reason, and that reason was not fulfilled yet. And, somehow I doubted it was for the glory. Most likely she had come to rescue some poor gladiator and been captured.
Little did I know that gladiator was me.
As I gazed into Arillania’s eyes I knew it. I couldn’t do it. Even if I closed my eyes, I still could not do it. Instead, I sheathed my sword.
If Empress Lupa really wanted this girl dead let her kill Arillania herself.
Arillania looked stunned when I offered her my hand. She took it though, and I pulled her up. We shook hands and I whispered into her ear, “When I push you, run through the Gates of Death and don’t look back. The wall at the end has a secret passage. As you go by grab your scilii. Even one will do. The guards are easy to win against-all muscle, no brains.” Arillania gave a shadow of a nod, and then I shoved her away from me, like I was getting rid of a dirty loser. She looked hurt, then ran-and ran and ran and ran. I mean, she ran at the speed of sound. [What Ziva, I thought I’d honor your favorite band. What’s wrong with that?] Actually no, she ran at the speed of light. Excuse me. She probably knocked down the entrance of the passage with sheer speed.
Of course, afterwards I was given laurel wreaths and a “seat of honor” next to the Empress for watching the games. Grudgingly, I sat down beside her and took my helmet off. The Empress smiled-warmly, for once. I must have looked confused because she said to me, “I admire your courage in sparing Arillania. Few would have done so.”
“Do you like my courage or the fact I spared her? Imperator.” I added.
She waved her hand dismissively. “Few of my gladiators would spare their opponent when the crowd asked for death. But you realized what you were doing, and believed it to be wrong, so you did something about it. I like that.”
“Imperator, I didn’t think you were the type to care about sparing people’s lives.” I replied, not meeting her eyes.
She laughed. “I’m not what most people think of me as Theseus. Why, Mortals believe me to be a loving, motherly creature with not a drop of evilness in me. Not even the sense of loyalty and protection a She-Wolf feels for her pups. Of course, they’re quite wrong, as are my … subjects.”
“Is that what you call these people who fight to the death for your entertainment? Your subjects?” I asked. This time I gazed into her golden eyes, and I saw what she had once seen-running down a hill to the river to take a drink and finding two human children exposed, raising them, returning from hunting to find her two pups gone. Chasing down the human who had taken them, canines ripping into human flesh, living as a Lone Wolf once again. Living in Britain with a pack, mourning the lost of her children to the wolf hunts, coming to America to start a new life, being pushed farther and farther west till she met the coast-
I broke the eye contact, looking down.
“You see what I have dealt with all my life? For better or worse wolves are seen as villains. When Jupiter offered me this chance for looking after these demigods … they are like my new children. There are few Packs this far west. Most of them are in Montana or Colorado … that area. When I came to America, it was as if I was one of the PHBC. I and the rest of the Wolf Clan and Mohawk Tribe were pushed farther and farther west. These demigods are like my pups. Romans like their entertainment brutal. This is a traditional sport. I do not like it, but many do. Unlike common misconception wolves do not kill for fun. That ridiculous urban legend was started by the shepherd who took Romulus and Remus from me.”
The Empress looked sad, as if she deeply regretted what humans thought of her and her People.
“What’s PHBC?” I asked.
Lupa smiled. “A friend of mine came up with that. You see, they don’t like being called Indians, as India is half way across the globe. And Native Americans, A, America is named after an Italian man who never came here and B, the word ‘native’ conjures up images of unkempt men running around yelling nonsense and waving sharp sticks. PHBC stands for ‘People Here Before Columbus’.”
“Oh.” I said quietly. It seemed rather impractical, but I didn’t say so.
Sometimes I wonder about immortals. I swear, they can read minds. “Yes, it is rather impractical. But it is rather difficult to name them. Theseus, you may escape from the arena-a few do. If you do, then seek out Werli Dahn at Teton. She may help you find your past.” Her eyes turned back to the arena.
I tried to watch the fights but found I was instead staring across the arena, where that red-haired girl had been sitting. Something about her seemed familiar. Her eyes … her hair… her tanned skin and long limbs. And …a nickname. Kelp Head. That was it. Wait a minute. How did I know that? My past. That was it. She must’ve been from my past. Why was I so... obsessed with this girl? Because she was a link to the past. [No, Ziva, not that kind of link.] I tried to get her off my mind, but it didn’t exactly work. About ten minutes later I had just given up, when a guard came running into the Imperial Box. He bowed quickly and then said, “Y-your Majesty, a gladiatrix has escaped.”
Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Lupa of Rome turned her head, narrowing her eyes. I held my breath. It looked as if she wasn’t going to let Arillania go the way I’d hoped. But then …
“Let her go.”
I stared at her. Had she really just said she’d let Arillania go? Yes, she had. The guard looked surprised, but bowed and left. The Werewolf Empress turned back to me.
“Is this your doing?” she asked. That was it. No, how dare you?!. No, WHY THE H$%# DID YOU DO THIS?!. Just a, did you do this?. I didn’t think she would do that. The stories I’d heard about her really were false.
I looked down. “Yes.”
“You have more courage than even I thought young Gladiator. Brutus seemed to believe otherwise. I have a feeling you may be leaving the arena soon.”
Of course, she being an immortal she was right.
Z
I
V
A
As Percy said, I ran at the speed of sound. Which, he was right. I didn’t run nearly as fast to be counted as the speed of light. Yes, sound does not travel as fast as light. No, the gods did not tell me that. [Honestly, Percy, I was making a joke. Seriously?]
I may have short legs, but I can run pretty darn fast when I want to. I didn’t stop running until I was sure I had lost them. By then, I was at my sanctuary anyway.
My sanctuary was just between two local stores. I opened my duffle bag and pulled out a mirror. I wrinkled my nose. My hair looked horrid. It was dirty and part of it was cut off roughly at the shoulder blade. I set down the mirror and reached for the hose on the side of the building-one of the reasons I chose this spot. I turned it on and washed my hair. After I washed it, I took out the hair extensions that gave me blue highlights. Then I braided my hair into a bunch of little braids.
While my hair dried I reached into my bag and pulled out a pair of sandals Piper had made for me. My toes were poking out the front and the braided straw straps starting to come undone but I didn’t care. I put on ankle socks, and pulled out something else from my duffle-then paused. I put it back in my bag and went around to the front of the building-another reason I chose this spot. I looked at the store, one that sold cheap jewelry and such.
When I left the shop I’d purchased some bangles, a new pair of earrings, a silver hair ribbon and a silver belt. I went back to my hiding spot where I pulled out what I had considered putting on before I went into the shop-an orange dress in the style of the Romans. I slipped it on, and put on the belt I’d bought.
The dress was loose and orange. It was a little low-cut, and had short sleeves. The type of fabric it was made out of made it wrinkle, but not in a bad way. I’d pulled the torso out slightly, so it billowed over my belt. I put on the sandals Piper made and added the bangles. My hair wasn’t quite dry, but I undid the braids anyway. My hair was wavy, and I tied it into a bun with a hair band before tying the ribbon around it.
I checked myself in the mirror. I looked fine. I added a sheath with a dagger, just in case.
