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One of the things I missed about being a god was being able to be in multiple places at once. Now I can give Meg lessons on the care and feeding of unicorns, catching up my duties (Oh my the nosoi really have run wild recently. Sorry about that), and stand awkwardly outside Sally Jackson’s door. All at once.
I shift between my mortal and godly forms trying to decide what would be right. After a bit of debate, I settled into something in between the two.
After a minute or so of waiting Sally Jackson finally opens the door.
“Hello, can I help you?”
Immediately I shifted back to Lester’s form acne and all. “I am just checking in with old friends.”
Sally’s shock shifted into a genuine grin like she was actually happy to see me again. Weird. “Sorry for not recognizing you come in. Come in!”
So that is how I once again found myself sitting at Sally’s kitchen table. Papers were scattered about. Several books on medieval history were stacked off to the side. Most interesting of all was the manuscript of what must be Sally’s newest book. I did not give into the urge to peek.
“So, you succeeded. How did it go? Is Meg doing okay?”
“Meg is doing incredibly well. She and the rest of her siblings are happily settled in Aeithales. She is learning how to play the piano and her new gardens are doing really really well.”
“So that means Nero and Python must have been defeated. Right?”
“Yes.”
“Well done Apollo.” She smiled at me, genuinely happy at my success, and I couldn’t help but blush.
“T-Thanks” I stuttered out like I really was a teenager, “Also thank you for giving me shelter when I was mortal. If you ever need a favor, any favor, don’t be afraid to call on me.”
“It was nothing.” Sally said, like such kindness was what anyone would do, like there wasn’t a great risk that my enemies could have found me at her home. “I have some seven layer dip in the fridge. Want to help me finish that up while we chat.”
In that moment she became my favorite mortal.
“Of course!”
-
I wondered what Sally’s favor would end up being. A favor from a god could make practically anything happen.
If she was anything like her son, it wouldn’t be a wish for power, fame, or immortality. Maybe it would be something more practical like money, a new apartment, or music lessons. Perhaps she would save the wish for a time of dire need. Once I gave a favor Johann Bach and he only used it on his literal death bed. So, I was very surprised when Sally cashed in on her favor merely a month later.
I appeared instantly. On guard ready for something to be wrong.
Nothing was on fire, there was no blood or intruders, just a very stressed-out Sally Jackson. She held a binder of papers in one hand and baby Estelle in the other.
“I had to meet with my editor ten minutes ago and our regular babysitter cancelled. The back up cancelled too even Mary can’t make it. I be gone for three hours, maybe longer. Her formula and supplies are in the floral bag in the corner.”
With that she handed me Estelle and rushed out the door.
You humans will never stop surprising me, will you? She could have had practically anything you can. imagine, and she chose babysitting. I suppose it makes some sort of sense. Sally met me when I was Lester and fake freaking out about the existence of pregnancy.... After that display it’s surprising that she would trust me to look after a house plant let alone a baby.
Noticing that her mother was gone Estelle started to wail and whine. I shush her and start to gently bounce her up and down, “You’re Mommy is going to edit her book until then it’s you and me.”
I set Estelle down on the carpet and go through the bag of baby supplies. A bunch of toys and blocks. Baby formula and a few tins of baby food. All the supplies a mortal baby needs. I set a few toys in front of Estelle as if they were offerings. She accepted them graciously, shoving a stuffed rabbit in her mouth.
I have never really babysat anyone before. The closest I have ever come to that was my initial meeting with Hermes, but cattle stealing, music making, babies aren’t normal. Of course, I have had thousands of children over the millennia, so I am no stranger to childcare. But that isn’t babysitting. I try to ignore the fact that I haven’t properly raised any of my kids for millennia due to Zeus’s noninterference laws and that my visits are shorter than your average babysitter’s hours, but I can’t.
Ever since falling to earth and having my denial, ego, views, and bones shattered I haven’t been able to ignore or accept any of Zeus’s rulings like I used to. It was hard to be on Olympus most days.
Estelle broke me from my musings by throwing a block at me.
“Ah yes sorry about ignoring you.”
I start stacking the blocks in a tower. Estelle immediately knocks it down screaming in excited laughter. So, I the great god Apollo dedicated myself to building block towers for the amusement of a baby. It’s... surprisingly fun?
Honestly why didn’t more people ask me to watch their kids I was pretty good at this. Then I remembered my reputation. And how most gods don’t even see their own kids. And the stories of gods who do end up babysitting children.
One or two goddesses roast a baby in a fireplace and now no one is trusted to babysit.
Out of nowhere Estelle starts screaming.
Immediately I check her for any injuries. Nothing. Her eyesight is going to decline once she reaches her sixties, she has a mild allergy to strawberries and pecans, and will likely have seasonal depression. What is the issue?
Maybe she is hungry?
Not panicking, not even a little bit, I give Estelle a bottle of formula. And when she doesn't accept that, a cup of apple sauce. She accepts that immediately, grabbing fistfuls and smearing applesauce all over her face. Try not to make a mess on Sally Jackson’s rug, I pick her up and carry her to the kitchen.
Much to Estelle’s displeasure, I wiped off her hands and temporarily took away her apple sauce. Truly she must think me a tyrant. I spoon feed her the rest of the applesauce and give her animal crackers. With that offering she forgives me.
We spent the rest of the afternoon happily playing with her many stuffed animals. Estelle demonstrates her extensive babbling vocabulary. And I demonstrate my skill at changing diapers.
As time goes on Estelle grows grumpier, like Dionysus as he sobers up from a rager, or Demeter as winter sets in. I am immediately able to pinpoint the problem this time. She needs a nap.
Estelle does not want a nap.
I try putting her to bed a reading children's stories. I try reciting Athena’s tax proposals. No dice. Eventually I give up, pick Estelle back up, and start singing a lullaby. Out of nostalgia or because it’s the most effective lullaby ever known I start singing the song my mother sung to get me to sleep back when I was a young god on Delos. It’s has been ages since I have last sung it.
I am careful to not let a drop of divine power flow into the song, so I don’t accidentally make her sleep for months. Despite that handicap it takes mere minutes for Estelle to fall asleep. Trying not to wake her I sit back down on the couch humming the last bars.
In her sleep Estelle grips my hair and drools all over my shirt. She is in utter peace.
It is always utterly terrifying just how delicate and easily killable mortal children are. Anything can kill them. Small falls, large poisonous snakes, even the most minor of diseases can quickly become deadly. Life expectancy might have increased, and child mortality has plummeted, but that didn’t mean growing up is a guarantee.
Perhaps Demeter and Hera had a point. Burning off a child’s mortality was no longer sounding like a crazy idea.
I immediately shake off that notion. Sally Jackson didn’t even have a fireplace and would never invite me back if she saw me baking her child like a roast turkey. Besides it didn’t really work out when Demeter last tried it... There must be something else I can do for her.
Unconsciously I look into her future. It’s a strange sensation like your lungs are suddenly filled with incense. It’s almost comforting after so long without it.
Instantly I knew that she was a clearsighted mortal. Her fate was wound around a demigod that she would meet when she turned twelve. It was inevitable that she would get involved in a prophecy. Even I couldn’t tell you what. Which means either that the specifics are still up in the air, or the fates are hiding it from me because my interference would fix/mess things up. Whatever it was it didn’t look dark like a death prophecy, and it didn’t have the pressure of a great prophecy.
“I suppose no Jackson is going to have a boring life. Are they? Maybe your mother will one day let me teach you archery. It’s good to be prepared for things like this.”
Estelle just continues sleeping.
“Ah well don’t worry your life will be peaceful for quite a while yet.”
I settled back down on the couch and relaxed. At Aeithales I am running Meg through her scales. At the waystation I am listening to Leo and the newest visitor Alabaster Torrington argue about how to create a monster proof phone. At camp I’m playing pinochle with my little brother Dionysus.
It’s nice to be part of so many homes.
The smell of food is what wakes me up. Oh, gods I haven’t even realized that I feel asleep. Ever since I became a god again, sleeping, drinking, and eating like I require it to live. Luckily this time me falling asleep here hasn’t affected the me driving the sun chariot. That incident was embarrassing.
“Your awake.” Sally said from where she was fixing dinner in the kitchen.
“Yup, sorry I nodded off.”
“It’s fine honestly, I am just glad that you got Estelle to bed. Ever since she started teething it had been a nightmare to get her to take a nap. Must have taken a miracle.”
“What can I say my lullabies are almost as good as your seven-layer dip.”
Sally smiled at the compliment, “Well, we aren’t having that for dinner. How do you feel about loaded baked potatoes?”
“That sounds amazing!” My mouth watered at the scent of the chili she was heating up.
“Great then can you set the table?”
First, I put the half-asleep Estelle into her highchair. Then I make my way to the Jackson’s cupboards. Everything in it was mismatched. Blue plastic cups that looked like they were used when Percy was still a baby were placed next to a chipped ‘best teacher’ mug. There was a mix of gray, yellow, and blue plates, and none of the silverware was part of a set. I couldn’t help but find it charming.
“Is Paul coming?”
“Oh no there’s a teacher’s meeting today, so he won't be back for a while yet.”
I nodded and got a yellow plate for me and a blue one for Sally. And grabbed some silverware and all plastic cutlery for Estelle.
Sally was a very efficient cook, and the baked potatoes were out of the oven by the time I had finished setting the table. Her cooking is as delicious as it smells.
“Thanks for the meal.”
“It’s the least I can do asking you to babysit on such short notice. You must be busy since you just returned to godhood.”
I almost wanted to laugh. She was treating the favor a god offered the same way she would treat a favor from a neighbor. My father would have raged at how lightly she takes me. But I just felt incredibly light and giddy.
“It’s alright. I don’t mind watching her at all. Anytime you need me to babysit I’m happy to be there.”
“Really are you sure?” Sally asked, looking at me oddly. “Never thought you would like babysitting.”
“Well, I was once known as the protector of youths alongside my sister.” I said.
“Really? Never would have thought. Especially after you were convinced that my pregnancy was a curse from Hera.”
“I was concussed and suffering from acute mortality! Can we just forget that ever happened?” I begged. That was not my greatest moment.
“Never”, Sally said grinning. “It was absolutely hilarious.”
I groaned, but honestly this doesn't make it into the top fifty things I will never live down from my mortal quests. And doesn't even make this list of the most embarrassing moments of my life. It could be far far worse.
After we ate Sally’s delicious loaded mashed potatoes she took me up on my offer of future babysitting. Every other Friday night I watched Estelle. Despite Estelle’s occasional tantrums it became one of the more peaceful events of my days.
-
This routine was interrupted by Paul of all people texting me. He was asking to meet with me at this coffee shop to talk, if I was free that day of course. I immediately tried to remember if I ever did anything to make Paul hate me. I came up with nothing. Which was nice and unusual, but it also meant that I had no idea what he wanted to talk with me about.
Maybe he just wanted to talk about Estelle? Or maybe this was just a friendly get-together? From my few memories of him Paul seemed to be a friendly guy.
I said yes.
Despite being five minutes early, Paul beat me to the coffee shop. He was able to immediately identify me despite never meeting me in this form. In case you were wondering I chose to appear as an older more handsome version of Lester with long hair. I had a nagging feeling that I wanted to appear as an adult in this conversation.
“Hello Apollo. Or is it Lester now?” Paul asked, waving me over to him.
I have no idea. It turns out that you are never too old to have an identity crisis, “Eithers fine with me.”
“Alright then.”
Not wanting to wait in awkward silence I start talking about how I first tried coffee in Yemen. I was trying to impress a monk with my amazing musical skill and failing to flirt with him. The man was very oblivious and very friendly. He offered me a cup of coffee and I utterly embarrassed myself gagging and coughing it up. I was so embarrassed that I never stepped foot Yemen until he died and didn’t try coffee again until the eighteen hundreds.
Paul was a great listener. Nodding along and chucking about my tale. I could see why Sally liked him. He was quite handsome in a humble sort of way and had a lovely smile. Sally’s type also seemed to be older men with salt and pepper hair and blue eyes, which must have helped.
I ordered a mocha and Paul got a cappuccino. The café even had lemon cronuts which I have been craving since forever. I sipped my drink, and it was utterly delicious. There is no better combination than caffeine and sugar. I might have to come back here again.
“So, what do you want to talk about. I’m pretty sure you didn’t invite me just for the coffee.”
“Yeah,” Paul said sheepishly, “It’s just you are a genuine god right?”
“Yup, an Olympus approved deity.”
So, it’s one of those talks. I suppose it was only a matter of time. Paul was a regular mortal before all of this, he wasn’t even clearsighted. It would be strange if he didn’t have questions.
“How does this work. According to Sally you are all powered by belief, but if that’s true why aren’t there more gods around. God has billions of worshipers but there aren’t any signs of angels and devils. Why just Greek gods? Is there a great divine plan?” Paul said words rushing out of him like a bursting dam.
There are reasons I dislike thinking about my existence. Normally I just would give him a bit of sage advice that doesn’t answer anything and leave him to have my own existential crisis elsewhere. I did not want to return to normal.
“There is no divine plan. The Olympic council is just as clueless as mortals and as reliable as your government. The Fates weave, but I wouldn’t call that a plan. They don’t have an agenda.”
“Ah... I don’t know how to feel about that.” Paul said with admirable composure given the circumstances.
“Neither do I some days,” I idly tapped my fingers in a staccato beat, “You have taken the news that the Greek gods are real extraordinarily well especially since you aren’t a clearsighted mortal. Why aren’t you...”
“Panicking, running away screaming, or think Sally is insane?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, remembering what happened to Tristian McLean and countless other mortals driven insane by a truth that they couldn’t believe.
“I didn’t really believe it until Percy, Nico and Mrs. O’Leary shadow traveled into the apartment. How could I ignore that?”
“The Mist works wonders. I've seen people treat chimeras as runaway cattle, giant snakes as regular commuters, and giant punching a boat mistaken as merely running into an iceberg.”
It’s quite impressive how well you mortals can make sense of the impossible.
“That is what’s crazy.” Paul shook his head and started drinking his cappuccino.
I started to sip at my mocha as well. I hadn’t answered any of his questions about the other gods and wasn’t sure if I should. There are very few people able to adjust to that knowledge. It is very hard to believe that the earth revolves around the sun because of gravity, that I drive the sun chariot around the world, and nine of them were shot down. For some reason mortals have a hard time believing in more than one truth. I have long believed that the Mist itself is a result of the power of mortal disbelief.
I probably shouldn’t answer Paul’s questions or at least give him a palatable answer he would believe.
“So, Paul why are you so... accepting of the Greek Gods? Were you Pagan?”
“No. I grew up going to church every other Easter.” Paul said his voice heavy with nostalgia, “My late grandma was always so certain of her faith, of the way the world worked. No matter how hard I tried I was always deeply uncertain. Once I got into college, I started visiting different churches, mosques, prayer circles, whatever I could find really. Everyone was so certain that they knew how everything worked. Honestly learning about all these religious made me more uncertain. Greek gods are just as possible as anything else at this point.”
That uncertainty was a benefit. He had no religious or scientific framework he was trying to hold onto. It was possible for the Greek gods to exist, so when he had evidence that they did Paul believed. This might be a man that could comprehend multiple religions being true simultaneously.
“Why did you stop window shopping religion. Just give up?”
“That and I was almost recruited to Scientology, and the Jehovah’s Witnesses, and a very sketchy spiritual retreat.”
“Hazards of trying to find yourself and a god.” I replied “It’s been a while since I met someone so open minded”
Three hundred and twenty-two years if I am being precise and they were an aspiring poet in Ecuador. Oh, it is wonderful having my memories back again in high definition. Why are mortal memories so hazy? It’s terribly inconvenient.
“Thank you” Paul said happily surprised about the compliment.
I doubted this knowledge would do much damage. If it did? Well, I am the god of medicine for a reason even if mental health is clearly not one of my specialties.
“It’s not just the Greek pantheon all gods that are believed in are real.” I said, deciding to rip off the proverbial bandage.
Paul did not run away screaming, laugh hysterically, go into immediate denial or any other logical reactions to this knowledge. Instead, Paul smiled. It was the smile of an oracle whose deadly prophecy was finally fulfilled. They didn’t want to be right, but isn’t it satisfying?
“I knew it couldn’t just be you. Not if the universe really runs on belief. Besides it’s not like the sun stopped when you became mortal.”
“Yup. Other gods steeped up to fill my gap. Besides nothing is stronger than the mortal belief that the sun will rise again.”
Paul was bursting once again with questions. Eventually he chose one, “Why isn’t there evidence of God? Why hasn’t he interfered”
“I don’t know” That phrase kept getting easier and easier to say. “But I have a theory. You remember the fiasco with the Roman and Greek god’s forms?”
“How could I ever forget.”
“The Christian god has too many sects. People seem them in so many ways. He must be dealing with quite the split personality. To make matters worse those sects are constantly fighting each other. It took out my pantheon when the romans and Greek camps fought. Imagine how bad it is when the Protestants, Catholics, Orthodox fight. I bet the Jewish and Islamic God is close enough to count as well.”
“That’s a lot.” Paul said looking rather lost. Like someone in algebra listening in on a quantum physics lecture.
I nodded and ate my lemon cronut, while Paul stared into his cappuccino like it held the answers to all the worlds questions. Somehow the man was still sane.
“So, if everyone who believed in God stopped fighting and got along then God would be able to walk the earth? Like how when your camps stopped fighting the Olympians were alright.”
“Yup. Luckily for us pagan gods that is never ever going to happen again. Whenever one branch stops persecuting the other, they find something new to fight about with another one and the Jews never seem to get a break. Athena got really worried for a few years when freedom of religion became a thing, but while it did improve things no one is getting along.”
“So, God is real but mortal conflicts have permanently incapacitated him? I wish I could tell my grandmother this. It would give her a heart attack if she believed me.” Paul said almost wistfully and abruptly his face drained of color.
“Please tell me no doomsday cult has enough belief to be true.”
I did not want to answer that question, unfortunately the answer seemed to be written all over my face.
“Oh god which ones.”
“The Norse Gods are around and based in Boston. Luckily Ragnarök has been delayed recently so it won’t happen in your or great great grandchild's lifetime.”
“Boston. Percy and Annabeth went there last June to visit them. Should I warn them away? I don’t want any inter pantheon conflicts, the fiasco with New Rome was bad enough. Maybe Magnus could visit us next time...” Paul mused.
The name Magnus instantly rang a bell. After returning to godhood a surprising number of gods from other pantheons wanted to know why I was gone. The attention was nice in a crushing kind of way. One of the gods I reconnected with was Frey who happily gushed about how his son, Magnus Chase, saved the world from Ragnarök and was just the greatest healer ever. The greatest healer is my son obviously, but that little argument didn’t stop us from arranging another meet up. There are some awesome hiking trails I just need to see according to Frey.
Anyways, interpantheon meet ups are bad news. While Zeus is way too strict about it (going elephant riding with Indra again will not result in WWIII, Dad) inter pantheon fights get nasty fast. Clashes between pantheons have created civil wars, WWI, and hurricanes. It’s best to ignore each other’s existences and strengthen the mist so demigods will remain ignorant.
Unfortunately, Paul was very perceptive, “What’s wrong?”
I pasted on the smile I always use to tell Zeus bad news, “Good news you don’t need to warn Percy about Boston. He already knows. Well, probably. Most likely. Maybe. Anyways there hasn’t been any godly conflict so it's fine.”
“What are you talking about Apollo?” Paul didn’t seem angry at all, just kind of baffled.
“One of the Norse heroes that prevented Ragnarök is Magnus Chase. I don’t think-” The me in the sun chariot took a Look at Magnus Chase in Boston and just like that confirmed his parentage, the prophecies he was involved in, and his medical history, “No. I know it isn’t a coincidence.”
“So, Percy was helping Annabeth’s cousin deal with Ragnarök?”
“It’s too much of a coincidence” I state, “The timelines match up, and Percy is a lightning rod for trouble.”
Paul seemed to be unimpressed by my deductive skills, “Percy isn’t going to get involved unless he can help it. He came back in one piece too. Stopping Ragnarök is the type of thing that leaves scars.”
Dammit. He had a good point. Frey didn’t mention anything about Percy while he was regaling me with stories about Magnus’s quest. A lot of gods tend to leave out details that deprive them of glory, but Frey was quite humble for a god. Ugh I hated being wrong.
“Maybe he didn’t get involved then but Magnus Chase is a child of Frey”
“How am I going to talk to Percy about this?” Paul wondered, “I don’t even know if he knows. If he doesn't know I probably shouldn’t tell him but I don’t want him to deal with this on his own if he does. Percy has already been through too much. He shouldn’t have to worry about Norse gods on his own.”
It’s sweet seeing a stepfather so worried about their kids especially after having to deal with Nero.
“Percy won’t have to deal with this alone. He has you and his mom, and he is definitely confiding in Annabeth.”
Paul nodded “At least those two kids have each other.”
“So how about we talk about something less existentially terrifying.” I proposed. There is only so long I can think about my existence without having a meltdown and I didn’t want to end our conversation so soon.
“Well, my students are going to be performing Macbeth soon. I’m really looking forward to it. I used to be a Shakespearian actor in college, so I’ve been recruited to help the students’ fight choreography. It’s been rough especially after Clarence broke their leg.” Paul said, speaking with growing enthusiasm.
I wish I knew what my arrow would have thought about this play, but I didn’t. With bittersweet nostalgia I talked with Paul about Shakespeare and his misbehaving student. And found myself leaving light than I had entered.
We would have to do this again sometime.
-
You would think that Paul would be at least a little jealous that his wife was writing a romance novel about her godly ex, but he wasn’t. The man simply didn’t have a jealous bone in his body.
When I told him I liked his wife Paul said that he liked her too and that I couldn’t hold my alcohol. It’s weird being around someone so secure in their relationship. Especially after spending my time on Olympus where cheating and drama is as commonplace as the color white. Thanks to Zeus’s preferences both are everywhere.
Anyways once I heard what Sally’s book was about, I couldn’t help but read it. Sally’s book is quite good. Full of tension, drama, and every narrative thread created a beautiful yet tragic tapestry.
As I thumbed through it again, I couldn’t help but ask, “Why did you make it a tragedy? Why was not-Poseidon lost at sea trying to return home?”
Sally looked up from her publisher’s most recent email, “Well I told the story about how Poseidon was lost at sea so many times. It’s what felt right.”
Lost at sea, Poseidon. The type of lie that makes you want to laugh or cry.
“No seriously you have the opportunity to rewrite history in a sense. I would have written a much happier ending.”
“Really? Have you ever done that?” Sally said, raising an eyebrow.
I have. How could I not? Belief makes a god. Change what people believe in, and you can change anything, especially yourself. I bragged about how I skinned Marsyas when I just smote him to dust. In my grief and denial, I spread the myth that Hyacinthus was resurrected, and that we lived together happily ever after. History didn’t change.
“Ah you know once or twice.” I said not wanting to talk about that.
Sally nodded, able to read the heartbreak in my eyes.
“I guess I just couldn’t picture a happier ending” Sally said after a moment, “Are all god and human romances like this?”
Honestly Sally had one of the happier endings even if her tale was tragic for quite a while. She was alive, not cursed by Hera, and was able to move on and find love again. But that didn’t erase the pain of her past.
“They all end too soon for one reason or another.” I said, trying not to dwell on my own broken relationships.
“I just wish it didn’t have to end that soon that he could’ve been a part of Percy’s life. I mean Poseidon offered a palace under the sea, but I just couldn’t leave everything I’ve ever known.”
Less than a year ago I would have looked down on her choice, utterly certain that she would one day come to regret it. How could you possibly be satisfied with a normal mortal life when you have an opportunity like that? I think I can understand the impulse now.
“Do you ever regret it?”
“When Gabe was around yes. I don’t anymore.” Sally said gazing at the family photos on the wall. “Do you ever regret becoming a god again?”
When I was attending the summer solstice meeting I certainly did. Listening gods bicker over family drama, never once considering mortals or even their children, I remembered why I never listened before. It’s isolating. No longer being mortal and so changed that I can’t return to my old home.
I don’t want to return to old habits, but how else am I supposed to deal with Zeus? Finding loopholes, playing his game, it's how you survive.
I can’t live like that anymore.
Not when Zeus was getting closer and closer to trying to limit or even outlaw my interferences and friendships. His current lenience will only last so long. I know how this works. Worse, my son and Nico are planning to go to Tartarus soon. I couldn’t find any loophole in their prophecy. For them to survive and escape, some deus ex machina will likely be needed. And that would be the perfect chance for Zeus to say that I had gone too far, that I would be punished again, and my leash had to be tightened.
I had so much more freedom as a mortal. Lester could charge into the woods to save his children, heal anyone he wanted to, and somehow change the course of a battle.
But Lester couldn’t rise out of Tartarus. Lester would weaken and die before he could ever hope to make things right. Dying was the easy way out and unpleasant and an utterly terrifying possibility. I didn’t want to be mortal again.
If only Zeus were gone. I would have a lot fewer regrets and a lot more freedom.
“I don’t regret it enough to go back. If I really wanted to, I could probably become mortal again or lock away my powers.”
I didn’t want to do that and not just because Artemis would kill me if I tried.
“Well, I am glad that you became a god and didn’t completely return to Olympus. You wouldn’t be here with us otherwise.” Sally said, giving me a smile of gratitude.
I nearly burst into flames and came so close to weeping. Eventually I stammered out your welcome. It was nice to be appreciated.
-
Usually, you don’t have to tell your kids not to go to Tartarus.
For starters the entrance is an hour long fall or a trip down Styx’s waterfall where, if you aren’t busy fighting an evil snake, you can truly appreciate the view of Tartarus. A shifting landscape only illuminated by rivers of molten lava and monster’s parodying lanterns in the dark. It’s the type of view that makes experienced cave divers flee in terror. A place that gods fear going.
It’s no place for my son.
Will is a healer not a fighter. When he was nine Will cried over dead ladybugs and healed broken wings. Tartarus would kill him, or it would turn him into someone he is not. And Will has seen too much death already.
Nico is an extremely powerful demigod, and survived Tartarus once, but I don’t trust his luck to hold a second time. Even if it does, going to Tartarus will reopen wounds mental, and physical. He shouldn’t have to go through this again, especially when I should be able to fix everything.
That damn prophecy mucks everything up. If it wasn’t for that I could go and get Bob myself or spring a trap depending on how things turn out. Instead, I am stuck worrying unable to do anything useful. Desperately hoping that Will and Nico haven’t decided to set out early.
I decided to have my crisis on Sally Jackson’s couch. It was a nice couch. Velvety, a calming shade of blue, and it always had a blanket thrown over it.
“Hey, are you alright” Sally said, giving me the look of concern you typically give someone who has been screaming into a pillow for half an hour or is standing too close to the edge.
“Why couldn’t they just sneak into a club like normal kids? Why do they rush off and fight monsters so soon?” I tried, and failed, not to wail.
Oh Gods, is this what my mother felt when I rushed off to fight Python? I need to give her another apology song.
“I suppose it never gets easier seeing your kids go on a quest.” Sally said patting me on the back.
“They are going to Tartarus!”
“Please tell me that a joke or another exaggeration.” Sally said, her face paling in terror.
I silently shake my head and burst into tears again.
“Fuck” Sally swore and for the first time since I met her, newly mortal, she seemed truly shaken, “You cannot let that happen. They’ll die. They will come back with nightmares they won't talk about, too many scars, and someone won’t come back. You're a god. There must be some way you can interfere?”
“There is a prophecy. Gods can’t interfere with those and when we do it’s self-fulfilling.”
“Well tell me it anyway. There’s got to be some kind of loophole.” She looked determined and almost angry. It was like she didn’t want me to go through what she went through.
I recite the prophecy from memory.
‘Go forth and find the one who calls your name,
Who suffers and despairs for refusing to remain;
There leave something of equal value behind,
Or body and soul no one will ever find.’
“The only hope I have is convincing them not to go. The prophecy will only happen if you accept its call. But they are just too heroic! Nico is determined to go rescue Bob and Will is loyal enough to follow him to even Tartarus. I don’t want to order them not to go, but I am steadily running out of arguments.”
“Nico?” Sally repeated, “That nice young man that came to Percy’s birthday party and already went to Tartarus? Shouldn’t he know better than to return to that hellhole.”
I nodded in miserable solidarity with Sally, “Nico does know better. It makes him incredibly hard to argue with.”
Sally started to pace around the room trying to come up with ideas.
“The voice calling out might not be Bob. It could be a trap.”
“Already tried that argument. Apparently, the voice is very accurate, and Nico doesn’t want to live with the guilt if he’s wrong. Which is why good people don’t live long.”
“Give them a bunch of magic items. Like a bracelet that teleports them back to camp, a bag of infinite supplies and some type of magical firepower.”
“That is my back up plan.” I said, “There is no way I am letting them go down there without a way back out.”
It’s one of the reasons that I was so certain that Will and Nico would wait for my okay before going. The other reason was that Austin and Kayla were ready and willing to rat the couple out. They didn’t want to attend another funeral.
“What does Hades think about it.”
It says something about me or Olympian unity in general that I hadn’t considered talking to Hades about it. Yes, Hades might freak out and close every entrance he could to Tartarus. But that was a reasonable response at this point.
“You’re brilliant! I’ll talk to him right now. Hades loves his son, he will definitely help me keep them out of Tartarus.”
Three hours later I was back on the Jackson’s couch sobbing, since sobbing was better than screaming in anger. Besides I was already doing that in the artic circle. Icebergs older than even me shattered under the sheer force of my rage.
Once I finally found my words all I could say was. “It’s all so stupid.”
“What in the world happened?” Sally said with concern in her eyes.
“That’s what I want to know, because Hades decided to mess with my oracle again to send his beloved son to fetch his tolerated janitor.”
“What.”
“I know right. What was he thinking? Why would he send his son back there? I thought they had a good relationship. Nico talks like they do at least, and Hades does talk to him and gave Nico gifts. Which by godly standards makes him an incredibly attentive parent.”
Sally looked almost as lost as me at this point
“Why would any parent willingly send their kids there?” Sally wondered, not able to understand just how terrible godly parents can be.
Even I had a hard time comprehending this mistake and I once happily listened to Ares’s bragging about his kids' heroic deaths and stood aside when Trophonius had to cut off his brother's head.
Gods are never good parents. The ancient laws prevent interference and Zeus has been getting increasingly strict in their enforcement. Most Gods try not to get too attached since demigods die so quickly and some don’t even claim their children. Neglect is the norm. A lot of gods also have a hard time seeing their kids as anything other than extensions of themselves and their glory. The cycle of abuse has been in motion since Ouranos. It hasn’t broken.
“You can stop it now.” Sally said interrupting my thoughts, “The prophecy isn’t real, you can go to Tartarus, and find Bob. Your son never has to set foot there!”
In the Artic I stop screaming a smile slowly spreading across my face. She was right. I could stop this. I could even tell Zeus that I was interfering because Hades interfered with my oracle first. After all Zeus wanted me to be more protective of my oracles, right?
We would both know that it was just an excuse to save my son, but it was a great excuse. I really didn’t like that I might need one, but it was better than Zeus striking me with lightning again.
“You are right!” I said and hugged Sally in glee.
I immediately sent a wisp of myself to Tartarus to scope it out. Yup Tartarus is as nasty as always, even worse I felt a darkness there blacker than night and stronger than ever. Nyx. It would be foolish to enter with anything but full power. My fight with Hades drained me. I’d wait a day or two before going. Make some preparations and tell everyone goodbye.
Perhaps sensing that I was going to leave Sally simply said, “Stay safe. I know you can’t die and all, but Bob is an immortal too and he is... Well just be careful. Please.”
I tried for the easy-going cocky smile that used to come so easy to me, “I’ll be fine don’t you worry about that. I’ll invite my sister along too. Artemis would kill me if I didn’t.”
Ever since nearly dying countless times on my quest Artemis has been a bit overprotective and far more attentive. It’s weirdly sweet and just plain weird.
“Thanks for the advice. I really needed it.”
I smiled as I vanished and reappeared near my sister’s camp. The me in the Artic started to repair the damage done. Idly I began to create a song that would freeze the ice caps and cool the air. It was the least I could do. Perhaps I could even teach it to Grover once I perfected it.
-
Despite Hestia’s efforts Thanksgiving wasn’t celebrated on Olympus. The Olympian family is dysfunctional at the best of times and going in a circle and saying what you are thankful for wasn’t going to change anything. It somehow made things worse. After Zeus brought one of his lovers to the family dinner for the third time it was officially discontinued.
Artemis and I always have a small celebration with our mother, and the Muses and I have a party. But other than an excuse for family gatherings I have never really celebrated Thanksgiving. At least until today.
At Aeithales Meg and I were picking apples for Lu’s second attempt at making pie. The waystation crew made a feast fit for Olympus complete with a roast of one of my sacred red bulls. Despite my godhood I am still the resident dishwasher. I didn’t mind at all. I am strolling down the streets of New Rome taking in the sighting of the rebuilt city.
Artemis and I are running through the forest having a hunting competition. Trying to find the best animal to roast at our mother’s hearth. At camp half-blood I am having my first thanksgiving with my mortal children and Nico. They are teaching me the camp’s thanksgiving campfire songs. I wish I’d learned this sooner.
I am at the Jackson’s apartment keeping Estelle entertained and out of the way as Sally prepares Thanksgiving dinner. Paul is washing dishes and helps wherever he can.
I don’t know the last time I have felt so at home.
Despite it all I can’t help but be thankful that I regained my godhood. I won’t grow old alongside them. I will outlive their house’s foundations. But without my powers, I wouldn’t be here visiting all of my friends at once. I would be in Tartarus dead. Unable to teach Meg piano, unable to sing Estelle to sleep, unable to stop my son’s descent to Tartarus. It’s fantastic having the power to change things.
Yes, none of these homes will last forever, but I am so happy to be a part of all of them while I can.
“The chicken is in the oven, the pie is in the fridge, we made the salad right?” Sally asked Paul.
“Yes, we did. It’s in the fridge.”
“Then what am I forgetting. I know I need to do something.” Sally said pacing the kitchen.
“I am sure it’s fine Sally. If you forgot something, I’ll get it for you.” I called from my place on the couch.
“Thanks.”
I nodded and went back to trying to stop Estelle from tugging at my hair. Suddenly I heard the doorbell ring, and I went to get it.
Standing there was Percy.
“Apollo? What are you doing here?” Percy said confused at my existence and angry at presence like I was a bug he found in his soup.
So, this is what Sally forgot to do.
“I’ve been invited to thanksgiving?”
At that Percy became more stunned than angry, “Why?”