Dear Secrets, Please Fly Quietly

17) Prophecy

Apollo relaxed his grip on the side of the chariot. Now, his fingertips only occasionally brushed it as he rocked side to side, mumbling incoherently. His half-closed eyes were still voids of butter yellow light. I tried to remain wary and on guard, but my wings were tired of hovering. I circled around and landed gingerly in the sun chariot. It was hot enough that I had to keep moving around, but cool enough not to fry me the moment I touched it.

The cramped chariot was really only meant for one, so I paced on my toes along the rim. Even with my cat-like reflexes and balance, it was precarious work. I fell several times, but it was only because of Apollo's stupid pegasi. They were restless, and randomly tugged at the chariot, yanking it left or right. On one such occasion, I caught myself a little late and floated back up slowly, anger rising up in me. This was the sixth time they had knocked me off and seemed to be turning it into a game. Before I could go berate them in Pegasus, a dialect of Horse, Apollo once again arched his back and howled in pain.

When the episode subsided, he stood there, panting in silence for another thirty seconds. From what Artemis told me, the whole process should have been over by now. But I still hadn't received the prophecy! Just as I was wondering if it would ever come, Apollo coughed and then spoke.

"Both hands to death," he recited in a hoarse voice, "one must lend."

I nodded, recording the prophecy in my mind.

"Lest sickness be the very end,"

Sickness? Artemis and possibly Apollo were already sick. Could it mean them?

"Only the strongest will have to bend,"

I thought of Hercules on his island. That jerk, it serves him right he should have to bend. He needs some humility in his life.

After a fit of coughing up ichor, Apollo delivered the last line. "And to a baby, life must tend."

The light faded out of Apollo's eyes and he sat or rather, collapsed, in the chariot. Crossing his arms over his stomach and groaning, he looked up at me with the eyes of abused puppy.

"It's night." Apollo said tiredly. The lack of rest over last week seemed to catch up with him all at once as he yawned. "Let's go home."

The pegasi were more than happy to move again and the journey to Delos was smooth. When we got there, Artemis was awake again. Though she didn't look much better, the goddess could stand and walk. She followed me inside as I set a sleeping Apollo on the couch in the living room. He was still freezing, but when Artemis laid a blanket over him, the god pushed it off. Artemis put it back on, and again Apollo took it off. This went on for another five minutes before Artemis tied the blanket behind his back. Apollo was too tired and weak to attempt to undo it.

After the silent fight had been settled, I took Artemis aside and told her all that had happened with the prophecy. She cast a nervous glance at her brother. "He was coughing ichor? And foaming at the mouth?" The goddess asked, forcing her voice to remain quiet. Her brother really needed to rest.

I nodded solemnly, watching the sun god softly glow in the relative darkness. I had forgotten he could do that. After watching him for a while and thinking how this was the same Apollo who was writhing in a pain half and an hour before and professing love for me before that. I frowned, looking to Artemis. "Is he going to be okay?"

Without taking her eyes off Apollo, she nodded. "You should go home, Hermes. You need to sleep too." Noticing my hesitation, Artemis looked me in the eye, but her gaze wasn't particularly intense. "Apollo and I will be fine." The goddess reassured me.

George and Martha wrapped themselves around me and carried me to my room on Olympus. No one was awake, but the faint smell of metal revealed Zeus had quite literally caused a storm earlier. I was curious, and began searching for clues. The only thing I found was that the metallic scent grew stronger near Zeus' door. I frowned, not wanting to face his wrath, but the door was very slightly cracked open and I really, really, really wanted to push it. And I'm pretty good at sneaking around undetected. I went in.

Zeus' room was very- well, Zeus. The ceiling was a dark blanket of rolling storm clouds that occasionally flashed with lightning. Painted on the walls was a scene of a tornado that actually swirled around. If I listened really hard I could hear faint screams. Looking around, I counted at least seven different statues of Zeus positioned around. The largest one was near 30 feet tall and loomed over the bed, which made king size look like a crib. I estimated three of me could fit side by side without touching fingertips!

Zeus stirred, rolling over to his side, and I gasped. From my position behind a statue, I could finally see his face. Normally, in a situation like this, I would have been petrified. But I only frowned. His breathing was shallow at best, and he kept shivering. The metallic, stormy scent intensified as he arched his back, took another ragged breath, and slowly let it out. In that few seconds, I had slipped under the bed. There wasn't much room under there, but I was small. There was still one more thing I needed to know.

Zeus moved again, unable to find a comfortable position. His hand flopped over the edge of the bed for half a second before recoiling again, but thank Styx for my lightning-fast reflexes. No pun intended. My wing, which is by far the most sensitive part of me, came up to brush his palm as I twisted on my stomach. His hand was ice cold.

I went around to the other Olympians. In addition to Artemis and Zeus, Hera, Demeter, Hephaestus and Poseidon were cold and could barely breathe. In an instant, it dawned on me. They were sick! The sickness, the prophecy! What did it say again?

'Both hands to death, one must lend.' I was still unsure what that meant, but the next line was coming true: 'Lest sickness be the very end.' I gulped. The very end of what?! If Hades was sick as well, that's all of the first generation of Olympians! What if everyone gets sick?! Could I be next?!

Hurrying to my room, I grabbed my staff and wrote all of the Olympians' (including Hades) names on the wall and underlined the sick ones.

Hestia

Demeter

Hades?

Zeus

Poseidon

Hera

Athena

Ares

Aphrodite

Hephaestus

Artemis

Apollo?

Hermes

Needless to say, my sleep that night was fitful and virtually nonexistent.