Punz hated being old.
His joints hurt. His legs shook. As he tried to climb the hill, his lungs rattled like a box of rocks.
He couldn't see his face, thank goodness, but his fingers were gnarled and bony. Bulging blue veins webbed the backs of his hands.
He even had that old man smell- mothballs and chicken soup. How was that possible? He'd gone from sixteen to seventy-five in a matter of seconds, but the old man smell happened instantly, like boom. Congratulations! You smell!
"Almost there." Callahan smiled at him. "You're doing great."
Easy for him to say. Callahan and Technoblade were disguised as lovely Greek serving maidens. Thanks to their already androgyne appearances, it only took a little assistance from the Mist to turn them fully female. Even in their white gowns and laced sandals, they had no trouble navigating the rocky path.
Callahan's short amber hair was carefully styled to look more feminine, small braids mixed in with the fluffy wisps. Silver bracelets adorned his arms. He resembled an ancient statue of his mom, Aphrodite, which Punz found a little intimidating.
Dating a stunning boy was nerve-wracking enough. Dating a boy whose mom was the goddess of love... well, Punz was always afraid he'd do something unromantic, and Callahan's mom would frown down from Mount Olympus and change Punz into a feral hog.
Punz glanced uphill. The summit was still a hundred yards above.
"Worst idea ever." He leaned against a cedar tree and wiped his forehead. "Illumina's magic is too good. If I have to fight, I'll be useless."
"It won't come to that," Technoblade promised. He looked uncomfortable in his serving-maiden outfit. He kept hunching his shoulders to keep the dress from slipping. His pinned-up brunette bun, Mist-covered so as to not reveal his infamous pink hair, was coming undone and his hair dangled like long spider legs. Knowing his hatred of spiders, Punz decided not to mention that.
"We infiltrate the place," he said. "We get the information we need, and we get out."
Callahan set down his amphora, the tall ceramic wine jar in which his sword was hidden. "We can rest for a second. Catch your breath, Punz."
From Callahan's waist hung his cornucopia- the magical horn of plenty. Tucked somewhere in the folds of his dress was his knife, Katoptris. Callahan didn't look dangerous, but if the need arose, he could dual-wield Celestial bronze blades or shoot his enemies in the face with ripe mangoes.
Techno swung his own amphora off his shoulder. He too had a concealed sword; but even without a visible weapon, he looked deadly. His blood red eyes scanned the surroundings, alert for any threat. If any dude asked Technoblade for a drink, Punz figured he was more likely to kick him in the bifurcum.
He tried to steady his breathing.
Below them, Afales Bay glittered, the water so blue it might've been dyed with food coloring. A few hundred yards offshore, the Argo II rested at anchor. Its white sails looked no bigger than postage stamps, its ninety oars like toothpicks. Punz imagined his friends on deck following his progress, taking turns with False's spyglass, trying not to laugh as they watched Grandpa Punz hobble uphill.
"Stupid Ithaca," he muttered.
He supposed the island was pretty enough. A spine of forested hills twisted down its center. Chalky white slopes plunged into the sea. Inlets formed rocky beaches and harbors where red-roofed houses and white stucco churches nestled against the shoreline.
