𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐌 • Heroes of Olympus

XVIII

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 with terrible connection was starting to be a regular occurrence for Andy. She was in a meadow this time, with huge cows grazing around. But the whole thing was black and white, like a scene from a '50s movie. 

Andy didn't see the point of being there. The meadows simply stretched on for miles and miles. Maybe she was dead, and her punishment was to stay in a boring, black and white meadow for eternity.

"Turn around," a voice said. 

Andy whirled around. There, on the ground, sat a man in his early twenties, his face sad. He was also in black and white, but Andy had no problem in picturing his familiar honey blonde hair and tanned skin.

"Apollo," she said.

The god straightened. "If anyone asks, I'll deny this ever happened."

Andy scowled. "It's nice to see you too, father dearest."

"Why do you have to be so difficult?" Apollo groaned.

"I would be less difficult if you gods stopped treating demigods like your henchmen," Andy retorted. "You need us to do everything for you, and you still treat us like shit. Heck, we fought a war for you, and you go ahead and break all contacts—"

Andy's voice shut off. Her throat refused to open.

"Zeus cut all contacts with mortals," Apollo clarified. 

He waved his hand, and Andy felt her throat loosen. She crossed her arms.

"And did you oppose him?"

Apollo's whole body sagged. Something between fear and sadness crossed his face. Suddenly, he didn't look like the egoistical god she had known all her life. 

"You think I didn't want to?" There was an accusatory edge to his voice. "Zeus already blames my appointing Rachel Dare as my oracle for the starting of the new Great Prophecy. If I opposed his orders, he would throw me off Olympus."

Andy scoffed. "Aren't you opposing his orders right now?" 

Apollo gave a half smirk. "But this never happened, did it?"

"How clever," Andy sniffed. 

Apollo leaned back, stretching his legs. He raised his face to the sky, eyes closed, as if drinking in the light. Andy had a feeling there was something much worse bothering him.

"Dad?" she called. "Is—"

Apollo held up hand to silence her. "I know what you're going to ask." He looked at her, expression grim. "Sit down, Andy. We've got to talk."

She sat down beside Apollo, cross-legged, on the grey grass. Her mind was racing. Something bad enough to turn Apollo grim was not something she wanted to face. 

"The Doors of Death have opened," Apollo declared. 

Andy turned her head so fast, she almost got a whiplash. "What?"

"The Doors of Death," he repeated. "They're open. Medea, Midas… they'll be back."

"But—" Andy shook her head. "But that can't happen. There's no way the doors can be chained down."

"It's not that hard if you get Death out of the way," Apollo said. He let out a dry laugh. "And guess who's been missing lately."

Andy's eyes widened. "They've got Thanatos?"

"God-napped Thanatos, opened the gates of Tartarus, and managed to create a new entrance from the Underworld."

"It's her, isn't it?" Andy asked. "The one controlling the giants. Leo's Dirt Woman."