“Apollo. My friend. My ally. The same smug face I’ve had to live with for years.” When I don’t respond, he frowns. “Did I get that wrong?”
“I don’t know.” I nudge him to continue moving. “This place is playing tricks with my brain.”
“Sounds right. It is a challenge, after all. The judges aren’t going to make it easy.”
We enter a large, dark part of the cavern. In the distance, I hear a creaking sound. Creak, creak, creak. Like something is swaying. “Do you hear that?” I ask him. He shakes his head. “This is what I mean. One minute something seems real. The next it’s not, or is attacking me.” I look him over. “Are you really here?”
If anyone could be a figment of my imagination, it’s Loki. In the dark I see only his shadow. I squint trying to make out his face, but I only make out the whites of his teeth. Sharp and elongated.
“No,” I whisper taking a step back. Loki is no longer Loki but has the body of a beast. I hear the growl before I see the rest of his body, but I already know I’ve been a fool.
The wolf has found me.
In a split-second I fire three arrows, at least two making purchase according to the yelp in the dark. I take the distraction as a chance to run, using my hands to guide my way. I can’t see well in the dark and stumble over rocks, scraping my knuckles and knees on the jagged walls. Footsteps race after me, led by heavy breathing. The wolf is coming, pushing me deeper into the base of the mountain. Gods know if there’s a way out or if it’s all been a trick. I hate this place, these people, and their stupid, evil games.
Over the sounds of my pursuer I hear the creaking sound growing louder and I find myself drawn to it, using it as a beacon to guide me from the dark. The first hint of light seems like a mirage, but it’s real. I stumble into a massive cavern. The ceiling extends upward, farther than I can see. Light shafts down—from the peak? The light glares and it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust, but eventually I connect the sound of the swaying, the creaking, to a thick rope extended from the shaft. At the bottom hangs a figure bathed in white light. The wolf stops at the cavern entrance, for some reason not coming further. His growl lowers, more like a warning than the hunger of before.
The urge to walk to the figure is intense—compulsive—regardless of any risk. I know now that not everything is real. The wolf may not be. The mountain itself. But I’m here for a reason, to get through this test and whatever—whoever—hangs before me is part of it.
My feet sink into the soft sand on the ground and the creaking echoes deep in my ears. I pull my dagger, holding it clenched and ready in my fist. The figure’s back is to me, the rope taut and coiled around the neck. I see nothing but clothing matching my own and a dark hood covering the head. Is it Dion? The real Loki? The body isn’t big enough to be Thor or Triton, and I feel a small sense of relief at that. The wolf growls with every step I take and it trembles in my chest as I approach, using my knife to spin the body around, seeking confirmation on the victim.
The movement tugs at the hood and it falls, revealing a face I’m so familiar with that I stumble back in reaction.
It’s me.
Artemis.
Her face is pale—lips purple. She’s dead, and when I get to my senses enough to go back to the body, to reach for her, the rope around her neck slithers, hissing with life. It’s a snake, a massive, massive python that lunges at my face.
The body falls and the wolf howls, sending an echo through the cavern. I strike at the snake with my blade but the metal snaps against its tough skin. The long, brown, leathery body falls to the floor, using the dead body as a cushion. Its tail goes for miles, coming down in a slippery coil.
This is what the judges wanted me to see. My death. Apollo’s death. They will be one and the same if I choose to pass the test. I tremble under the idea of it all. That we’re doomed to find success against the rulers of our society. The hard rock of the wall slams against my back; I didn’t even realize I’d been moving. I’m cornered now. By the wolf. By the snake. Both creatures of the underworld.
I get the message and slide down the rock and hide behind my knees. The predators creep toward me in partnership. I’m a fool for not seeing it earlier.
A loud crack echoes from above and for an instant, the light coming down the shaft is blocked by an enormous object. It falls and falls, until it lands with a roll of trembling thunder stronger and heavier than any movement I’ve ever felt before.
Dust plumes around the object and there’s a glint of silver, then red. Finally, the sand settles and I see what fell from the sky. So do the creatures; they turn and shift their attention. I don’t even have a chance to call his name before Thor lunges into battle, using his hammer to fight. Metal slams against the wolf’s head, flinging it against the wall. He stomps on the python’s neck, severing it in two with his massive feet.
“Grab the body,” he shouts and I struggle to my feet. Neither creature is dead, both are made from magic and sorcery, but I do as he says, racing to the body and lugging it into my arms.
The hood falls over my face and I push it away, alarmed at how it even smells like me. I try not to get paralyzed thinking about the weight of it—the death I’m carrying. It’s not real. It’s not real. I keep chanting over and over while Thor pummels the creatures.
“Leave. I’ve got you.” With a final swing of his hammer, he knocks both the snake and wolf to the ground. I can’t move beneath the weight of the body, unable to help him.
Thor stares down at the motionless bodies, primed to attack if they launch a new assault. “Go,” he tells me. “Take your brother home.”
“My brother?” I croak, but the scene vanishes and the door opens before me. I walk through, still struggling under the weight of the body I’m carrying. I step back into the training room. The judges are still behind their table, looking as though I only left moments before. They don’t look at me, though, they look at the body in my arms.
The distance between the door and the table seems like a mile, but I know that I have accomplished more than they ever expected. They thought I’d come back crying. Come back beaten and defeated. They do not understand the children of Zeus and the warrior blood that runs in our veins.
The judges recoil as I approach, and I don’t wait for them to remove their papers and pens before I place the body on the table. I inhale deeply before I remove the hood, revealing the face of what I know will be my brother.
“Dear gods,” one judge mutters, covering his face.
“I passed your test and I will enter your Trials and compete with the best at this Academy,” I tell them, trying not to allow my grief to show. The body isn’t real, I know that. It’s no more real than the false reality I just experienced during the test. Sure enough, before I can speak again, the life-like body turns to sand, leaving only a pile on the table. I swallow and continue, “Unlike my brother, I’ll understand that my life is on the line. That a murderer is in our midst, and that you do not care about anything other than your societal rules.”
There’s no response, nothing but horror at my display. These men hate me. No, I think, turning my back on them. They fear what I represent, the power that lies in an oppressed group of people. I don’t tell them on my way out the door that I plan on winning this competition and that my allies will help me along the way.
What they do not understand is that I’m not only doing it for myself.
I’m doing it for my brother and to take down the bastards that killed him.
17
DION
We wait by the back door in the small alcove between the building and a garden. Small benches line the hall—it’s a nook for students to sit between classes and activities. All of our eyes are on the massive clock visible in the tower above. The test is deceiving. It feels like hours have passed, when it’s only minutes.