Muses on the Move (3 page)

Back in Olympus, Apollo’s sister was so worried about her heartbroken twin that she booked him a day at the internationally renowned therapeutic day spa at the Beautorium. Mineral baths, seaweed wraps, saunas and massages, the works. After a refreshing but long day, Apollo headed to his last appointment to get his hair coiffed by the premier hairdresser to the gods, Aristophanes
.

“A
pollo
, your mouth may not be talking, but your scalp is telling me you are a seriously stressed-out god. C’mon, relax, unload, tell me your troubles.” Aristophanes was massaging Apollo’s scalp so vigorously that Apollo’s mouth opened involuntarily and quietly uttered the word he hadn’t spoken in days. “Thalia.”

“Don’t tell me you’re still upset over that little wedding fiasco? It’s been months now. You are a god,
Apollo, and a handsome one at that. Most of my female clients, they would give up their powers to be with you. They tell me these things.”

“That’s very nice of you to say, Aristophanes, but there’s more to the story than just the engagement party.”

“Yes, I know all about Hera’s turn as a green monster. Oh, she was so mad at those girls. It took me three rinses and two strong dye jobs to get that green hue out of her hair.”

“There’s more to the story than even that. But I don’t want to talk about it—it just depresses me.” And with that, Apollo sank lower and deeper into the gold lamé barber chair.

“Sit up, Apollo. Now, really, I think it will help you to discuss your woes with me. It seems to help most of my clients. They come in here and tell me their secrets all the time. And I never tell. I just absorb. Really, try me.”

“No, I don’t think so. But thank you.”

“Suit yourself,” sulked Aristophanes.

They sat in silence for a short while—Apollo slinking farther down in the chair, Aristophanes commanding him to sit straight without a word, just a short tug on his hair here and there.

“Okay, okay, okay,” said Apollo, the silence getting to him. “I knew she had feelings for me, and I really loved her, so after Hera and Zeus banished her and
her sisters to earth, I begged Zeus to allow me to go, too, to help out, but he said I could only go in disguise, and I agreed, but then it turned out they weren’t just banished to earth but by accident to someplace totally foreign and halfway around the world, and get this, into the future, and so I went as this silly football player—it’s a weird sport they have in the future where people chase a funny-shaped ball and bash into each other, like the raging wild satyrs from the Balkans, only in matching outfits—anyway, she liked me, or liked Dylan, which was my name there, and I thought she didn’t know that he was me, but then the last time I saw her, she said she did know it was me and she kept trying to kiss me and she promised to marry me and she said she would meet me back here but she didn’t come and I was tricked. Again.”

“Oh, brother, you got troubles.”

Apollo was still gasping for air when he said, “I don’t feel any better.”

“I should say not. That’s a horrible story. Simply horrible. I always liked Thalia—she’s a little precocious but not mean. That doesn’t sound like her.”

“I know, I know, that’s what I said. I tried to tell Zeus that something was wrong, something was odd, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”

“Yeah, well, there is no telling that man anything.”

Just then the salon filled up with lightning, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“I don’t know what to do now, Aristophanes, I just don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean, do? You move on. You let it go. You wash her out of your hair. Here, I’ll help. This nettle leaf shampoo is great for that.”

“No, that’s the thing—I don’t want to. Or I can’t. I don’t know. I’m scared for her.”

“Why scared? She’s Zeus’s daughter, and she’ll be fine. You need to worry about yourself.”

“No, you don’t understand. I went to the castle day before yesterday. I heard yelling, so I followed it, and it was coming from Thalia’s old room. It was Hera and Zeus, arguing. Hera wants to banish the girls to Hades now.”

“No, not Hades—she wouldn’t!” Aristophanes’s voice was full of fear.

“Yes, yes, she would.”

“No, Zeus will never allow it. I’m sure.”

“He might not have a choice. Hera is the one who sets the rules. And now they’ve broken those rules. Or so the Furies say.”

“Wait a minute, you didn’t tell me the Blessed Ones were involved!” Now Aristophanes stopped cutting. He put down his scissors.

“You don’t have to call them the Blessed Ones around me. They’re the Furies, plain and evil. And they’re on earth, too, in the same town, at the same school.”

“No!”

“Yes, and they’re watching the girls’ every move. Apparently they reported to Hera their use of magic. And now Hera, Hera has the power to send them to Hades forever and eternity!”

“Oh, this is tragic. So sad. Oh.” Aristophanes took a seat next to Apollo.

“Now do you see? I’m scared, and I don’t know what to do. But she tricked me. How can I stick my neck out for her again? How?”

“Wait a second—she only confessed that she knew you were Dylan the last time you saw her?” Aristophanes stood up again and circled Apollo’s chair.

“Yes.”

“And she was very forward, very amorous, you say?”

“Yes.”

Aristophanes spun the barber chair around to face him. “And she was never that way before?”

“No, never.”

“Well, forgive me for being so bold, but are you sure it was Thalia?”

“It looked like her, it sounded like her—why wouldn’t I think it was her? Where are you going with this?”

“I have heard many things in this chair. Many, many things. And I tell you, Apollo, I have heard more than one story of a Blessed One impersonating
another for their own gain. When it’s a god they’re impersonating, it drains them of their powers for a time, but they can do it. Is it possible…is it possible you were being amorously attacked by a Blessed One and Thalia was none the wiser?”

“I don’t know. It’s possible. She sure wasn’t herself. She was smacking her gum, and I never saw Thalia chew gum on earth.”

“What’s gum?”

“It’s a horrible substance that makes one sound like a hungry cow. No, I never saw her chew gum until that day. And her breath, her breath was so sour. I’ve kissed Thalia’s lips before—she has the sweetest breath that ever breathed.”

“She could’ve had something foul to eat, no? I hear earth has some disgusting food.”

“It wasn’t a food sour—it was an inner-soul sour. Wait! It was
an inner-soul sour
! That’s it—it had to have been a Fury. How did I not see this then?”

“I dunno.”

“You’re a genius, Aristophanes, a genius! Thank you so much!” And Apollo jumped out of the chair and kissed Aristophanes on the cheek. “I’ve got to go, I’ve got to go back to earth and save her. You’re a genius!” And with that he ran out of the salon.

“Wait, Apollo, your hair—it’s only half done! And my smock, you’re taking my smock!”

But Apollo didn’t hear. He was a god on a mission.

He flew to his own castle and let his most trusted servant know what he was going to do. It was going to take a lot out of him to get back to earth, to get back to the future. He needed to warn someone because he wasn’t sure even if he got there that he’d be able to make it back.

Apollo gathered a few things and went out onto the bedroom balcony of his castle. Just as he was beginning his meditation to jump-start his most extreme powers, Zeus appeared in front of him in a puff of black smoke.

“Don’t do it, Apollo.” His voice was deeper and more serious than ever before.

“You can’t stop me. I won’t let you, Zeus. I’m scared for her. Hades? I just can’t let it happen. I need to warn her.”

Zeus was a little shocked that after everything she’d done, Apollo was still willing to risk it all to help his daughter. He questioned this devotion. “Why?”

“I love her, sir. It’s really quite simple.”

“Hera will never allow this.”

“I don’t care about Hera!”

“Yikes, don’t say that so loud. She may hear you. You
must
care about her. She has Thalia’s fate in her hands.”

“I’m the only chance they’ve got. I can go down there and warn them that the Furies are just waiting for them to use their powers. I can warn them that the consequence is Hades.”

“I can’t allow it, not again. Hera will surely punish the girls if I allow you to go. She’s given them one more chance, and that’s it. Don’t you understand?”

“You know what I understand? I understand we’re wasting time.”

“I’ll have to punish you. I don’t want to, Apollo, but I have to.”

“Fine, punish me, but I’m going.”

“So be it. When you land on earth, your powers, they will be gone.”

“I don’t care. Do what you have to do, but I’m leaving now.” He threw himself into a cross-legged position and closed his eyes.

“Fine, leave, go. But you will have to go as Dylan once again. And this time you won’t have your powers once you’re there. That means you won’t have the power to get back or to summon other gods to help you get back. I have no other choice.”

Apollo chanted the only time travel spell he knew.

“Apollo,” said Zeus, “one more thing.” Apollo opened his eyes for just a moment and looked at Zeus. “Please, please don’t let them use their powers.”

Wednesday, 1:10
P.M.
, Pocky’s car on Highway 10

“I
’ve
got to pee,” I said. “Can’t we please stop?”

“No,” said Pocky without so much as a thought. He turned the radio up louder.

“I want a mochaccino,” whined Era. “I need one. C’mon, please, it’s been forever since I got to move my legs.”

“I have to admit, I am a bit restless,” said Polly. “Maybe we could just make a small stop, Pocky, please.”

“Oh my God, you girls are terrible! We’ve only been driving for twenty minutes! At this rate we’ll be lucky if we make it to the Alabama border by nightfall!”

“I thought the Alamo was in Texas.” I panicked.

“It is! And Texas is hours and hours away, especially when we stop for pee breaks and mochaccino
breaks and leg stretch breaks every freaking half hour.”

“Hours and hours?” I asked.

“Yes, hours and hours,” he said.

“Pocky, we’re adjusting to road trip life—just give us this one thing. We’ll be good after that. Promise,” said Polly.

“I thought you said you loved the road,” Era added innocently.

“Yeah, exactly. The road, not the rest stops!” He was about as intimidating as a big, spiky-haired, cream-filled chocolate éclair. “But fine. I’ll stop in Monroe—there’s a café there. It’s just two exits away.”

“Thank you, Pocky!” we all cried out.

“Aw, shucks, sure.” We sat in silence the rest of the way there. I took the map from Pocky’s side and casually started to peruse it. I just had to figure out how long it would take to get to Denver from the Alamo. I had no idea this road trip thing meant hours and hours of boring driving. It doesn’t take any time at all to get anywhere back home.

Right off the highway we spotted a coffee shop called the Coffee Nutty Net Café. Before Pocky had even stopped the car, our doors were open and we were fleeing for the coffee and bathrooms.

“Wait,” cried Pocky, “no large lattes or megamochas—we’ve got to make it to Texas before Sunday!”

Polly and Era ordered at the counter, and I hit the bathroom. On my way out, I noticed a cluster of computers in a nook to my left. I slyly wandered over and sat down at the first free computer. The Grind has a computer, and I’d used the Internet there (with Claire’s help). I felt very worldly and wise as I placed my hand on the mouse. At that moment a girl in an outrageous fuschia shirt and tight pants glided into the space next to me.

Even in Olympus it’s rude to stare. So I quickly turned my attention back to the screen in front of me and typed in
Denver
. Up came a quick listing about Denver, Colorado, the historic sites, the places you could stay, the football.
Huh
, I thought,
maybe that football uniform wasn’t that odd after all
. It was a Denver thing. Anyway, I found a map and typed in my “starting destination” as the Alamo and my “final destination” as Denver. 1,136 miles. That sounded like kind of a lot. Yikes.

I had the nagging feeling that someone was looking over my shoulder, but when I looked over at the girl sitting next to me, she was focusing intently on her own screen. I got up and casually headed for the table.

“You did have to go, didn’t you? I’m sorry for making you wait, Thalia.”

“What? Oh, yeah, yeah, bathroom, right. It’s okay, Pocky.”

Two strangers were sitting with my sisters and Pocky. They were dressed as outrageously as the girl I’d seen over at the computers, and they were whispering something to Era.

“Here’s your single espresso,” offered Pocky. “No doubles allowed.”

“Thanks.”

“Meet our new friends. They’re in a band.” Pocky gestured to the two girls sitting across from him just as the girl from the computer pulled up a seat behind me.

“Yeah,” said the redheaded girl across the table. “We thought you guys might be, too. We just thought you looked like hipsters, but you know, road-weary hipsters. Like maybe you had a punk band or something.”

“No, but maybe we should start a band—that would be more fun than this trip has been,” said Era. She was just staring at the girl next to her. She was wearing these great black pants that looked like leather. And she had glitter everywhere.

“We’ve only been on the road for half an hour—give me a break, Era,” cried Pocky, a little exasperated with the Muse sisters.

“Being in a band is pretty fun,” said the dark-haired girl sitting next to the redhead. “We’ve traveled all over.”

“Really? Like where? Is the Alamo a good place?” asked Era.

“Uh, the Alamo kinda stinks,” piped up the blonde behind me. “It’s nothing but a big old dirty empty building and some tacky gift shops.”

“Hey, it’s not that bad,” yelped Pocky. Way to go, Pocky.

“You want to head east. New York is cool. It doesn’t get any cooler than the Big Apple. There’s so much to do and see, and the shopping is fantastic,” continued the blonde.

Wait, wait, wait. What was happening here?

“I want to go to New York!” cried Era.

New York
, I thought. Upper-right side of map. Yikes. It’s superfar from Denver. Superduper far.

“I’m also fond of Miami,” the blonde added. “The beaches are hot, and the dancing goes all night.”

“I want to go to Miami!” cried Era.

Miami?
I thought. I have an excellent memory. Inherited it from my mom. Miami was at the lowest point on the right side of the map—way down south. Very, very far from Denver. Unbelievably far.

“Mmm,” Polly hummed dubiously. Neither of those two cities sounded like they were up her alley. I breathed a sigh of relief. But then she turned to the blonde, who seemed to be the leader, and said, “Do you know anything about Colonial Williamsburg?”

“We just came from there!” she replied. “We played a gig there, and it was a blast. I mean, the costumes are amazing—the girls know how to dress.
And the gardens are magnificent, you know, if you like that sort of thing.”

“We like that sort of thing,” cried Polly.

“And let me tell you,” whispered the redhead to Era, “the boys there ain’t so bad, either.”

“We like that sort of thing,” concurred Era.

“No!” I finally yelped.

“Yes, Thalia, yes,” said Polly. “If these people think it’s cool—wait, what’s your band’s name?”

“The Beautiful Omen.”

“If the Beautiful Omen say it’s cool, it’s got to be cool. And I said I was going to stand up for what’s right for me from now on, and I want to go to Colonial Williamsburg. Pocky, let’s turn the car around and head for Virginia!”

Pocky threw up his hands. “Hey, you know what? Wherever you wanna go.” And then in a funny accent he added, “Milady, your wish is my command.”

“But—but…” This was unbelievable. We were turning around? Heading directly away from Denver? I tried to think of some good reason we should head west, but I was coming up dry.

“Why are you so intent on going to the Alamo, Thalia?” asked Polly, supersuspiciously.

“I’m not. Whatever—Colonial Williamsburg is fine.”

I had to concede. I had to be selfless. Because I had no good reason for wanting to go to the Alamo other than the best reason, and the most selfish
reason—Dylan from Denver. And I just couldn’t tell my sisters that. “To Virginia it is.”

Denver, CO. Well, it’s no surprise
That’s what was revealed to Alek’s spying eyes.
It’s Dylan that Thalia is hoping to follow.
She still doesn’t know that he’s really Apollo.
Our plan is now clear and easy as pumpkin pie.
We’ll keep the Muses away from Denver and spy.
The longer they stay, the more heartsick Thalia will be.
She’ll resort to forbidden magic trickery.
Frustrated and desperate, she’ll use her own powers
And be banished to Hades—to forever be ours.