The Underworld's Child

18 | More Problems Dropping In

In an instant, after the lightning has struck the dome, the shadow dome falls apart.

She felt tired immediately. Her energy was sucked from her body. She swayed around and Percy helped her sit down.

"What was that?" he asked after she sat down.

"I-I don't know," she answered as she looked down at her open palms on her lap. She looked up to Chiron. "Do you know what this is?"

Chiron didn't answer her question.

Her hands were shaking and she was scared. She didn't know where it came from She didn't know what it was. Would her friends be afraid of her now? Would everyone hate her? her thought ran through all the bad scenarios that could happen and tears run down her cheeks. She didn't want people to exile her or fear her.

"Hey," Thalia said. Thalia kneeled on one leg on her left and took her left hand. "It's okay, Elora."

Percy copied Thalia. He took her right hand. "Promise."

Nico ran to her and stopped a few steps in front of her. He looked at her and rushed in, giving her a hug. "It's going to be okay," he said.

Elora wiped her tears and she felt embarrassed to be crying in front of the campers and the Hunters. Chiron was there too, her brain brought up. Oh, gods.

She was about to say something when someone or something was approaching. It was shrouded in a murky green mist, but as it got closer, the campers and Hunters gasped.

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"This is impossible," Chiron said. She'd never heard the centaur sound so nervous. "it... she has never left the attic. Never."

And yet, the withered mummy that held the Oracle shuffled forward until she stood in the center of the group. Mist curled around their feet, turning the snow a sickly shade of green.

None of them dared to move. Then the Oracle's voice hissed in Elora's head. Apparently, everyone could here it, because several clutched their hands over their ears.

I am the spirit of Delphi, the voice said. Speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python.

The Oracle regarded Elora with its cold, dead eyes. Then she turned unmistakably towards Zoe Nightshade. Approach Seeker, and ask.

Zoe swallowed. "What must I do to help my goddess?"

The Oracle's mouth opened, and green mist poured out. She saw a vague image of a mountain, and a girl standing at the barren peak. Artemis, she thought. Artemis was wrapped in chains, fettered to the rocks. The goddess was kneeling, her hands raised as if to fend off an attacker, and it looked like she was in pain. The Oracle spoke:

Six shall go west to the goddess in chains,

One shall be lost in the land without rain,

The bane of Olympus shows the trail,

Campers and Hunters combined prevail,

The Titan's curse must two withstand,

And one shall perish by a parent's hand.

Then, just as she thought things couldn't get any worse, the Oracle turned to her, and spoke:

Atalanta Elora Anastacia,

The fabled demigod,

Daughter of the dragon and the underworld,