Death's Touch | Jason Grace

Twenty-five

Aphros looked like his brother, except he was blue instead of green and much, much bigger. He had Arnold-as-Terminator abs and arms, and a square, brutish head. A huge Conan-approved sword was strapped across his back. Even his hair was bigger—a massive globe of blue-black frizz so thick that his lobster-claw horns appeared to be drowning as they tried to swim their way to the surface.

"Is that why they named you Aphros?" Leo asked as they glided down the path from the cave. "Because of the Afro?"

Aphros scowled. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," Leo said quickly. "So what are you guys, exactly?"

"Ichthyocentaurs," Aphros said, like it was a question he was tired of answering.

"Uh, icky what?"

"Fish centaurs. We are the half brothers of Chiron."

"Oh, he's a friend of mine!"

Aphros narrowed his eyes. "The one called Hazel told us this, but we will determine the truth. Come."

Cary didn't like the sound of determine the truth. It made her think of torture racks and red-hot pokers.

They followed the fish centaur through a massive forest of kelp. They could've darted to one side and gotten lost in the plants pretty easily, but they didn't try. For one thing, he figured Aphros could travel much faster in the water, and the guy might be able to shut off the magic that let Leo move and breathe. Inside or outside the cave, they were just as much a captive.

Also, Cary had no clue where she was.

They drifted between rows of kelp as tall as apartment buildings. The green- and-yellow plants swayed weightlessly, like columns of helium balloons. High above, Cary saw a smudge of white that might have been the sun.

She guessed that meant they'd been here overnight. Was the Argo II all right? Had it sailed on without them, or were their friends still searching?

Cary couldn't even be sure how deep they were. Plants could grow here—so not too deep, right? Still, she knew she couldn't just swim for the surface. She'd heard about people who ascended too quickly and developed nitrogen bubbles in their blood. Cary wanted to avoid carbonated blood.

They drifted along for maybe half a mile. Cary was tempted to ask where Aphros was taking them, but the big sword strapped to the centaur's back sort of discouraged conversation.

Finally the kelp forest opened up. Leo gasped. They were standing (swimming, whatever) at the summit of a high underwater hill. Below them stretched an entire town of Greek-style buildings on the seafloor.

The roofs were tiled with mother-of-pearl. The gardens were filled with coral and sea anemones. Hippocampi grazed in a field of seaweed. A team of Cyclopes was placing the domed roof on a new temple, using a blue whale as a crane. And swimming through the streets, hanging out in the courtyards, practicing combat with tridents and swords in the arena were dozens of mermen and mermaids—honest-to-goodness fish-people.

There was nothing silly or cute about these merpeople. Even from a distance, they looked fierce and not at all human. Their eyes glowed yellow. They had sharklike teeth and leathery skin in colors ranging from coral red to ink black.

"It's a training camp," Leo realized. He looked at Aphros in awe. "You train heroes, the same way Chiron does?"

Aphros nodded, a glint of pride in his eyes. "We have trained all the famous mer-heroes! Name a mer-hero, and we have trained him or her!"

"Oh, sure," Leo said. "Like... um, the Little Mermaid?"

Aphros frowned. "Who? No! Like Triton, Glaucus, Weissmuller, and Bill!"