Daughter of Poseidon

Escape and Explosion

A sixth sense wasn't outlined in the job description of being a demi-god, but there probably was something there, as the pomegranates did come in handy.

They say Saint Helens was beautiful this time of year, but, unfortunately, I couldn't see outside. My cell was reminiscent of the one in Hades' underworld, though it did have a door this time. There were also a few pieces of furniture: a bed, bedside table, sink and toilet, all made from stone. And food. Food was always the most important thing, obviously, even if I was trapped in an inescapable prison.

There were a few gaps for air though, and if you stood on your tiptoes, you could peer out into the lovely view view of fire and brimstone; a lava wall that glittered with power, enchanted so that you could see through. I had thought my world sense was limited, but this added a whole new literal sense to the words. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not.

The volcano itself was also home to Hephaestus' forge and the fires were constantly ablaze, lava pouring out in huge streams along the walls as well. It wasn't your average, run-of-the-mill medieval style forge you expected from the ancient gods though.

Hephaestus' forge looked like a mechanic's garage, with several hydraulic lifts. Some had cars on them, but others had stranger things: a bronze hippalektryon with its horse head off and a bunch of wires hanging out its rooster tail, a metal lion that seemed to be hooked up to a battery charger, and a Greek war chariot made entirely of flames. Smaller projects cluttered a dozen worktables, like a child's forgotten playthings. Tools hung along the walls. Each had its own outline on a Peg-Board, but nothing seemed to be in the right place. The hammer was over the screwdriver place. The staple gun was where the hacksaw was supposed to go. 

To see the god himself pottering about and tinkering was quite the experience, when the sparks that shot off the swords he made were the size of me. When he turned around, you had to look away, though, occasionally, you would catch the beginnings of a beard of fire when staring at his back.

My holding cell was at the heat of the volcano, the upper cell, and they said a great monster was in the one below. Typhon did make quite the neighbour, even if he was rather silent. It wasn't a normal kind of silent though, and it would probably lead to the end of the world if he ever broke free of his binding chains. There were also other strange noises, like the stumbling footsteps of a small foal, or maybe even a large dog. In these sweltering conditions, I was probably kidding myself if I thought there was a ranch under all the lava. I put it down to madness.

Then there were the dreams. When you're locked in a room with nothing to look at except a god who can sometimes look like a cross between a hairy biker and a piece of molten iron, the options for things to do were pretty limited. I consulted the normal list of things to do in a prison: find a exit, draw lines on a wall to mark the days, or to go completely out of my mind. I didn't really like any of them, but the fates seemed to have chosen for me. I probably would forever be known as the demi-god who went mad under a mountain. It did have a nice ring to it after all - see? I'm rambling again. I really need to talk to someone, anyone.

A few Hephaestus-helpers, gold automatons, with life-like faces passed me food and water. They were creepy at the beginning, to say the least, but I'd gradually gotten used to them. I'd yet to banter with one of them, or Hephaestus for that matter. He'd taken one look at me when I came in, and a much longer look at my necklace, Perseis, and the charm-bracelet  shield Luke had given me. Hephaestus had then left, but not before muttering that they'd been a waste of good materials on me, and that there just want enough gratitude these days. At least I got to keep them, along with the Greek chiton that had materialised when the celestial bronze manacles had appeared.

But back to the dreams. They were vivid, as though I were stuck in some kind of strange, 4D simulation that I couldn't get out of. They were strange too, from swirling masses of fog over New York to a gleaming, gold version of Luke, in full battle dress and weirdly fluorescent-green eyes. That was the most haunting one of all: