Heroes of Olympus: The Aftermath of War

RACHEL

*Rick Riordan owns all of the characters*

RACHEL MADE A MENTAL note to never underestimate her own, totally crazy subconscious again. The deity and the harpy, who were now desperately clinging onto a tree for balance, encouraged her to try and stand up with her wobbly legs. Groaning, she tasted blood from the corners of her mouth, her left eye slightly twitching and her arms currently numb from all of the pain.

Apollo had a huge slash mark on the side of his face, though he didn't seem to care. He wiped the blood trickling down from the bleed casually, shaking his head in disbelief. Rachel had never seen the deity behave like this before. Honestly, she was expecting him to moan and curse the gods (a special shout-out to the ever ignorant Zeus, by the way) for such a horrifying event, yet here he was, speechless and suddenly quiet. Ella was limping, which was a very weird thing for a harpy to experience, since her strong wings were now destroyed and torn apart. The harpy cried silently, unusually failing to find the correct words to form a rather ingenious sentence.

The Cyclops were already gone by now, their enormous feet leaving huge marks on the harmless sand. What their appearance had meant to tell them otherwise, Rachel didn't know, but she could see that they were searching for something of importance. Actually, she and the others were going to have to find out for themselves later.

A huge, eerie chamber opened up before them, perfectly designed with bits of Celestial Bronze and Imperial Gold twisted together, and skillfully creating marvelous, carved Ancient Greek words on the stone entrance. The reflection blinded Rachel for a brief moment, so she placed a hand over her good eye. Ella shrugged, taking in the view and deciding that she didn't really care at the moment.

Apollo surprisingly suggested to take a closer look inside, lest the structure contain some valuable information about how they were going to get out of this 'supposed-to-be non-existent' place ["And, oh gods, maybe even food!" he happily added]. Rachel didn't know how the last part could possibly be counted as a convincing reason, but she agreed, either way.

"Ella can't stand properly," the harpy murmured softly, her head let down. "Ella needs help from a friend, please."

"Here," she said, taking one of Ella's broken wings and placing it above her shoulder. She flinched. It was covered in lots of blood. "I'll support you as you walk. Okay?"

"Thank you, Rachel Dare," the harpy nodded, her voice a little cracked. "You're a good person."

Rachel smiled gently, guiding the limping harpy to where Apollo was heading to. The tunnel inside the chamber was very spacious and dark, barely letting in any sunlight from outside. Dozens of unused torches appeared from every side of the cave, getting larger and larger every time they took a step forward. She could hear her own heart thump in her chest and her breathing echo throughout the whole structure, turning from loud to barely audible. Ella tried flapping her wings in vain, still overwhelmed that the Cyclops had miraculously managed to tear them apart. The deity put a finger over his mouth and continued to lead them in silence.

Stairs made of hard, polished stone appeared before them, still firm and steady despite being thousands of years old. Actually, Rachel didn't even know how she got that piece of information. Random guess, I think? Apollo descended first, beckoning her and Ella to come after him. Heaving a huge sigh, she and the harpy practically limped step by step.

"Faster, faster!" Apollo said, urging them forward. "You've got to see this. Something tells me you'll recognize it!"

There was a huge, oval, fountain-like structure at the very end of the cave. A wooden tripod was placed above it, apparently beholding the golden symbol of Apollo himself at the front, which weirdly resembled a drachma. Rachel and Ella moved closer towards the now-struck deity, seeing his unnameable expression turn into amazement. The torches surrounding them began to glow a dim shade of red and yellow, releasing small poofs as it spread throughout the whole chamber.

A thin, barefoot woman with peacefully closed eyes now sat on top of the three-legged stool, taking no notice of them. Her dark, curly brown hair was covered by a long blood-red shawl, which reached her thighs. She wore a simple brown dress designed with runes and such, smoke coming up from where she sat. A strong, breathtaking scent took over the cave, immediately spreading out into the deepest corners and smallest stones of the structure. The woman opened her eyes to reveal that it was stormy gray, constantly changing in variations of black to brown to white. She eyed Apollo with regard, as if he was someone she recently had had a history with.

"T-The Pythia," the deity mumbled, apparently stunned. "I-I thought you were finally settling down in Mount Parnassus."

"She---she's your high priestess," Rachel finally remembered, looking at the woman with awe. "She used to give prophecies to the Ancient Greeks."

The Pythia stared at her, nodding in agreement. She placed a finger over her mouth and pointed towards Apollo and Ella, who both seemed to get the message. The high priestess continued to sit on the tripod, preferring to remain peculiarly still. Her eyes were mysteriously unblinking too, hands calmly holding the objects (a sprig of laurel and a disc containing sacred water) without the slightest hint of struggle. Rachel stifled a gasp as she heard a voice inside her head. The very voice of Delphi.

"Fear not, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, for I am not about to give you another prophecy. I have merely chosen to appear in your mind and deliver a fair warning. The Oracle rarely speaks this way, but I am ready to give an exception in times of crisis. The power of prophecy is lost, as you can imagine. Find the Silent Head of Passionate Melodies. Only Apollo knows what and where it is. Now, hurry. You have much to do."

"Rachel?" Apollo asked, worried. "What did she say?"

"Just---just s-something regarding t-the..." Rachel stammered, suddenly choking. Apollo ran to her side, the harpy limping behind him. The high priestess unleashed the ghost of a smile before snapping her fingers, and the world became a distant, blurry face.

~------------------------~

Rachel, Apollo, and Ella woke up sitting on the wooden chairs, their bruises and cuts miraculously mended as if the Cyclopes attack had never happened at all. The demigods and their friends were surrounding them in a tight circle, apparently waiting for them to stir. Percy tapped Tyson on the shoulder and gestured towards Ella, who seemed to be doing just fine. The afternoon light was harsh to Rachel's eyes, its warmth unrecognizable and strange. The wind swept her hair and let it flow freely, joining in the chorus of the air. Apollo and Ella looked bewildered and especially amazed to be back in reality. Annabeth raised her eyebrows, leaning in closer to the three of them.

"I know you've been somewhere." she said calmly, her eyes still and focused. "Now, spill."