A Second Life

31. Bathtub Prophecies with Wine

Percy

As soon as I saw Apollo slinking off to wherever he was going, I followed. I knew that he wouldn't go see Julian alone - he wouldn't, he promised - but I couldn't push back the niggling feeling.

I followed him through winding corridors, wondering how he possibly knew where the was going. We'd gone past the familiar walls in Hogwarts, falling into darker corridors. Even the lanterns here were dimmer. I shuddered involuntarily in the cold. This part of the castle was imbued with dark magic; it was tangible in the air.

I got sick and tired of being silent after approximately 30 seconds.

"Apollo."

He turned around, surprised. As if he hadn't noticed me. Which should've been impossible, because Gods had better senses than demigods. "I didn't hear you." He furrowed his brows slightly.

"You're going to Julian." There was definite accusation in my voice.

For a moment, he looked like he'd deny it. But then his shoulders slumped, and he looked impossibly tired - impossibly mortal - in the moment. "I didn't want you here."

"Why, Apollo?" My tone was gentler now.

"I've been... seeing things," he started, shifting uncomfortably and not meeting my eyes, "They aren't pleasant and I was worried. I didn't want you to worry too."

"Apollo, I've been through one battle and two full blown wars. I think I can handle another prophecy." I assured him.

He sighed. "Fine. But stay quiet, and be careful. My gut feeling is going haywire. I don't like this at all."

"You and me both." I returned.

We walked in silence for another ten seconds, but I couldn't bite back the urge to ask him. "How do you know where to go?"

"I can sense his presence." He stopped walking suddenly. "Now, Percy, darling, I love you and I really want you to stay alive, so let's not antagonise him any more than need be, ok?"

"Huh?" Was my smart response.

Apollo quirked a small smile, the first emotion I'd seen on him in a while. "Julian is behind that door, seashell."

"Oh."

Apollo didn't wait for me to give a proper answer, instead he entered the room. I was immediately assaulted by a sickening smell of milk, honey and roses. In any other situation, I'd have thought it smelt pleasant but not here.

The room we entered was a stark contrast to the castle me and Apollo had been walking through moments prior. It was almost like walking into a bathroom showroom. The walls were tiled a beautiful cream, with veins slithering through the tiles. The floor was a similar tile.

The middle of the room took the cake.

Smack dab in the middle of the room was a massive white bathtub, and in other situation would've probably been considered a nice bathtub. Not in this situation though.

Julian was laying in the bathtub, a glass of wine in his hands. Luckily for us, the bathtub was almost spilling with bubbles - of what, since the water really looked like milk, I don't know - and so I didn't see too much, although the view was still mildly nauseating.