ONE LAST TIME . . . heroes of olympus

94

"A BARGAIN." LEO'S fingers twitched. "Yeah. Absolutely."

His hands went to work, and that's when Kat stepped in.

"So the thing is," said Kat, "Lord Zeus is already pissed at you, right? If you help us defeat Gaia, you could make it up to him."

Apollo wrinkled his nose. "I suppose that's possible. But it would be easier to smite you."

"You wouldn't want to end the bloodline of the best descendants you have, wouldn't you?" Kat raised her eyebrows. "I learned how to play guitar because of you. I used to always ask mama if there was ever something I could do for you when I was a kid. And Michael's been talking to me throughout our quest — you know, my namesake? For my last name, at least. He's been telling me to make this bloodline proud. To make you proud. And once I — if I take over the company and don't die tomorrow," her voice stammered around that part, but she had to play the part of the spoiled heiress, "I can work with you. For you."

Apollo gazed into the air, as if envisioning his future having her to work for him. "What do you want exactly? And what do I get out of it? Besides having my own bloodline in my favor, of course."

"First thing I need: advice." Leo talked while he did . . . whatever the fuck he was doing. "I want to know if a plan of mine will work."

He explained what he had in mind. Kat grimaced while listening to it. She hated it when he talked about this, but it was unavoidable.

The god nodded thoughtfully. "I will give you this advice for free. You might be able to defeat Gaia in the way you describe, similar to the way Ouranos was defeated aeons ago. However, any mortal close by would be utterly . . ." Apollo's voice faltered. "What is that you have made?"

Kat looked down at the contraption in Leo's hands. Layers of copper wires, like multiple sets of guitar strings, crisscrossed inside a funnel. Rows of striking pins were controlled by levers on the outside of the cone, which was fixed to a square metal base with a bunch of crank handles.

"Oh, this . . . ?" Leo glanced over at Kat, who mimed like she was plucking guitar strings, because he'd definitely seen her play guitar before.

"Um, well," said Leo, "this is quite simply the most amazing instrument ever!"

"How does it work?" asked the god.

Good question, Kat thought.

Leo turned the crank handles, Kat silently hoping the contraption wouldn't explode. A few clear tones rang out — metallic yet warm. Leo manipulated the levers and gears. Kat recognized the song that sprang forth – the same wistful melody Calypso sang on Ogygia about homesickness and longing. But, through the strings of the brass cone, the tune sounded even sadder, like a machine with a broken heart.

Leo played the song all the way through. When he was done, Kat's eyes stung. She could almost smell the fresh-baked bread from Calypso's kitchen. She could feel the water at her feet.

Apollo stared in awe at the instrument. "I must have it. What is it called? What do you want for it?"

Leo faltered, before shaking it off. "This is the Valdezinator, of course!" He puffed out his chest, which nearly made Kat snicker. "It works by, um, translating your feelings into music as you manipulate the gears. It's really meant for me, a child of Hephaestus, to use, though. I don't know if you could—"

"I am the god of music!" cried Apollo. "I can certainly master the Valdezinator. I must! It is my duty!"

"So let's wheel and deal, Music Man," said Leo. "I give you this; you give us the physician's cure."