The Spirits of the Universe (PJO)

Chapter 36--We Didn't Sign Up For This

I had a lot of questions for Mormolyce. But one of the most pressing ones was: How in the name of Zeus were we going to race in mud?

But when I stepped out of the barn, my breath caught. I guess that answers my question.

The run-down racing track was no longer there. Instead, rich dirt lined the semicircle—the perfect firmness to have a competitive race. The rusted bleachers had been replaced by shining metal that didn't even look a day old. The infield was no longer a dump for wood and glass fragments; rather, it was a flawless grass pitch. 

"Woah!" Liam exclaimed. "This is crazy!"

I turned around just in time to see Aridne and Liam exit the barn, a certain Taraxippi following them tentatively.

Immediately, I felt guilty. I'd run out without even checking on the person I'd put in danger with our plan. Could I even say I was a better person than Mormolyce? 

"What's wrong?" Aridne asked, frowning at me.

"Wondering how blind I must've been to have missed all of this when we first reached here." I forced a smile. "You okay, Paul?"

"Paul wants to thank his saviors," the Taraxippi said. He had a few bruises covering his arms and legs, but, overall, he looked normal—normal for a ghost, that is. "Paul would've disappeared without them."

"You're kidding, right?" Liam asked. "You would've been fine. We saw your friends' abilities—immortality."

"They are not Paul's friends," Paul spat out. "They think they're better than Paul because of their abilities. They call Paul 'No Power Paul.'"

"That's not true!" Liam protested. "You're super fast. And you actually listened to us, unlike your boss. If anything, you're a hero."

"The rest of Paul's kind does not agree," the Taraxippi said softly.

Well, End said awkwardly. That's sad.

A grim silence fell upon us like a heavy cloak. I wanted to reassure him—and no doubt my friends did too—but I didn't really know what to say. Sadly, Paul wasn't the only one suffering through this. No matter where I went in the mortal or mythological world back on Earth, I would find innocent people being ostracized from their peers. Hell, back in school, I'd gone through the same thing.

But it was different to see someone else go through it.

Before my mind could be washed away from reality, a booming voice called out, "Dear mortals! Over here!"

The night had started to surrender to the sun, allowing me to easily find Mormolyce standing at the starting line, a hundred yards away from us. Beside him were four chariots connected by iron chains to skeletal horses. 

Really? End snorted as we headed his way. He couldn't afford real horses?

This is good, I said. This way, I don't have to deal with horse angst. 

Oh, come on. It can't be that bad.

You try dealing with a hungry pegasus fifty stories up when he threatens to drop you if you don't give him a sugar cube—only, you don't have any in your pockets.

That sounds difficult, End said. How'd you manage?

Let's just say, real horses also aren't immune to guilt, I said with a nostalgic smile. Especially when you're the one who saved them from a low time of their life.

I didn't know you could be crafty like that, End laughed.  

As we got closer to Mormolyce, I started noticing things—things that made me concerned. First of all, the skeleton horses were huge—their torsos reached up to my neck. They were covered entirely in heavy armor that shined in the morning sun. Meanwhile, the chariots had spiked wheels and . . . "Are those shields?"

Sure enough, the portable metal squares were stacked on the back bench in each chariot. But last time I checked, you didn't really need those in a horse race.

Mormolyce grinned. "Trust me, you'll thank me later for those."

"What about weapons?" Liam probed.

"Being armed is always a good idea," was the cryptic answer. 

His answer sent alarm bells ringing throughout my mind. End, Order, do you know why we would need weapons? Please tell me it's a tradition of some sort.

Chariots and armed men . . . End mused, a wicked grin on her face. Can't think about anything else than war.

She wasn't going to be any help. Desperately, I turned toward Mormolyce. "So . . . what exactly is your competition about?"

Mormolyce eyed me suspiciously. "You signed up with prior information, right?"

I kicked myself internally. I'd completely forgotten that we were betting our survival on a flimsy lie—one that I was a moment away from ruining. "The poster wasn't exactly . . . er . . . clear on the details of the competition."

I quietly sighed in relief when Mormolyce seemed to believe my excuse. "As it should've been. As my grandmother once said, it's better to learn in the moment rather than spoil it for yourselves."

"Who's your grandmother?"

"Ania, the Titan of sorrow and heartache. She was a strong woman . . . now, all I have to carry on her memory are her morals."

Not good. Following advice from such a figure, no matter how motherly they may be, was just looking for trouble. And, unfortunately for me, I wasn't looking for trouble. 

I slowly moved toward Aridne and Liam, lowering my voice so only they could hear me. "Look, guys, I don't think this is a good idea—"

The barn door slammed open, and the Taraxippi rushed out. Liam and Aridne stepped back, giving them a wide berth. Unfortunately, this interrupted our conversation.

"Well, no time like the present." Mormolyce smiled brightly. "Let's start the race!"