A Prophecy of Two Boys

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Percy's Point of View

As it turned out, talking to the Oracle involved walking up a flight of rickety wooden stairs up into the attic of the large white building. Inside the cold attic the storm sounded so much louder, the thunder sweeping through my mind and obliterating any clear thoughts other than that he was angry, and so I should be scared. Normal thunderstorms scared me. They seemed to have a direct link to my emotions, and that thought terrified me. What if I hurt someone by accident when I got angry or upset?

But this thunderstorm wasn't a normal one. This one was due to the anger of Zeus, and despite the fact there was no lightning to light up the sky in a glorious display of power, it petrified me. If Zeus had this kind of power to fling around in a minor temper tantrum, what could he do to our friends and family? The thought wasn't even worth thinking about.

I shielded my thoughts from Harry, refusing to let him into my inner turmoil. I rather he thought I was merely scared of thunderstorms than for him to know the real reasons why. Harry had enough on his plate already – I wasn't going to add to it.

Inside the dusty attic the air was warm with a strange scent of mildew, rotten wood and reptiles. Or, to be more specific – snakes. There was the strangest collection of broken weapons, items of clothing and armour. Old, leather cases were strewn around the room, labelled with various names such as ITHICA or AEAEA and even THE LAND OF THE AMAZONS. Places from Odysseus' journey. There were even a few monster heads and other such 'spoils of war'. Before we could take a closer look we noticed the mummy.

She wasn't your average mummy, as in, she wasn't wrapped in strips of cloth. Instead, she was a shrivelled husk of a female human, wearing a tie-died sundress and lots of bead necklaces. Her long black hair was tied back in a headband, making the thin leathery skin stretched over her skull even more prominent. Her eyes were a glassy white, like marbles. Whoever this poor lady was, she'd been dead a very long time.

The very sight of the woman sent shivers up our back. But, as if the sight of her wasn't enough, she sat up on her stool and opened her mouth. Green mist poured out of the mummy's mouth and coiled on the floor like a massive snake. It hissed too, sounding like thousands of snakes, and yet one voice. We caught snatches of lines from the hissing.

A half-blood of the eldest gods…

Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…

To storm or fire the world must fall…

The Mark of Athena burns through Rome…

And fail without friends, to fly home alone.

Those with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approach…

We flinched back away from the hissing mist, trying to get back to the trapdoor, but it seemed miles away. An ancient conscience seemed to knock at our mind shields before sweeping them away as if they were a thin cloth curtain. The conscience then seemed to coil round our mind, hissing in content as it peered at us.

"I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. Approach, seekers, and ask."

I was all for legging it out of the room there and then, but Harry steeled us, and took a deep breath.

'She's not alive, Percy.' Harry reassured me. 'She's just a host for something else – the Oracle of Delphi. She doesn't feel evil, does she?'

'No.' I replied in a small voice, unsure of exactly who Harry was trying to reassure – me or himself. But he was right, the presence in our mind didn't feel evil. Ancient beyond belief and more powerful than anything I'd ever felt before, agreed, and most definitely not human, yes. But it didn't seem particularly interested by the idea of killing us either.