Muses on the Move Page 3

  “No, never.”

  “Well, forgive me for being so bold, but are you sure it was Thalia?”

  “It looked like her, it sounded like her—why wouldn’t I think it was her? Where are you going with this?”

  “I have heard many things in this chair. Many, many things. And I tell you, Apollo, I have heard more than one story of a Blessed One impersonating another for their own gain. When it’s a god they’re impersonating, it drains them of their powers for a time, but they can do it. Is it possible…is it possible you were being amorously attacked by a Blessed One and Thalia was none the wiser?”

  “I don’t know. It’s possible. She sure wasn’t herself. She was smacking her gum, and I never saw Thalia chew gum on earth.”

  “What’s gum?”

  “It’s a horrible substance that makes one sound like a hungry cow. No, I never saw her chew gum until that day. And her breath, her breath was so sour. I’ve kissed Thalia’s lips before—she has the sweetest breath that ever breathed.”

  “She could’ve had something foul to eat, no? I hear earth has some disgusting food.”

  “It wasn’t a food sour—it was an inner-soul sour. Wait! It was an inner-soul sour! That’s it—it had to have been a Fury. How did I not see this then?”

  “I dunno.”

  “You’re a genius, Aristophanes, a genius! Thank you so much!” And Apollo jumped out of the chair and kissed Aristophanes on the cheek. “I’ve got to go, I’ve got to go back to earth and save her. You’re a genius!” And with that he ran out of the salon.

  “Wait, Apollo, your hair—it’s only half done! And my smock, you’re taking my smock!”

  But Apollo didn’t hear. He was a god on a mission.

  He flew to his own castle and let his most trusted servant know what he was going to do. It was going to take a lot out of him to get back to earth, to get back to the future. He needed to warn someone because he wasn’t sure even if he got there that he’d be able to make it back.

  Apollo gathered a few things and went out onto the bedroom balcony of his castle. Just as he was beginning his meditation to jump-start his most extreme powers, Zeus appeared in front of him in a puff of black smoke.

  “Don’t do it, Apollo.” His voice was deeper and more serious than ever before.

  “You can’t stop me. I won’t let you, Zeus. I’m scared for her. Hades? I just can’t let it happen. I need to warn her.”

  Zeus was a little shocked that after everything she’d done, Apollo was still willing to risk it all to help his daughter. He questioned this devotion. “Why?”

  “I love her, sir. It’s really quite simple.”

  “Hera will never allow this.”

  “I don’t care about Hera!”

  “Yikes, don’t say that so loud. She may hear you. You must care about her. She has Thalia’s fate in her hands.”

  “I’m the only chance they’ve got. I can go down there and warn them that the Furies are just waiting for them to use their powers. I can warn them that the consequence is Hades.”

  “I can’t allow it, not again. Hera will surely punish the girls if I allow you to go. She’s given them one more chance, and that’s it. Don’t you understand?”

  “You know what I understand? I understand we’re wasting time.”

  “I’ll have to punish you. I don’t want to, Apollo, but I have to.”

  “Fine, punish me, but I’m going.”

  “So be it. When you land on earth, your powers, they will be gone.”

  “I don’t care. Do what you have to do, but I’m leaving now.” He threw himself into a cross-legged position and closed his eyes.

  “Fine, leave, go. But you will have to go as Dylan once again. And this time you won’t have your powers once you’re there. That means you won’t have the power to get back or to summon other gods to help you get back. I have no other choice.”

  Apollo chanted the only time travel spell he knew.

  “Apollo,” said Zeus, “one more thing.” Apollo opened his eyes for just a moment and looked at Zeus. “Please, please don’t let them use their powers.”

  FIVE

  Wednesday, 1:10 P.M., Pocky’s car on Highway 10

  “I’ve got to pee,” I said. “Can’t we please stop?”

  “No,” said Pocky without so much as a thought. He turned the radio up louder.

  “I want a mochaccino,” whined Era. “I need one. C’mon, please, it’s been forever since I got to move my legs.”

  “I have to admit, I am a bit restless,” said Polly. “Maybe we could just make a small stop, Pocky, please.”

  “Oh my God, you girls are terrible! We’ve only been driving for twenty minutes! At this rate we’ll be lucky if we make it to the Alabama border by nightfall!”

  “I thought the Alamo was in Texas.” I panicked.

  “It is! And Texas is hours and hours away, especially when we stop for pee breaks and mochaccino breaks and leg stretch breaks every freaking half hour.”

  “Hours and hours?” I asked.

  “Yes, hours and hours,” he said.

  “Pocky, we’re adjusting to road trip life—just give us this one thing. We’ll be good after that. Promise,” said Polly.

  “I thought you said you loved the road,” Era added innocently.

  “Yeah, exactly. The road, not the rest stops!” He was about as intimidating as a big, spiky-haired, cream-filled chocolate éclair. “But fine. I’ll stop in Monroe—there’s a café there. It’s just two exits away.”

  “Thank you, Pocky!” we all cried out.

  “Aw, shucks, sure.” We sat in silence the rest of the way there. I took the map from Pocky’s side and casually started to peruse it. I just had to figure out how long it would take to get to Denver from the Alamo. I had no idea this road trip thing meant hours and hours of boring driving. It doesn’t take any time at all to get anywhere back home.

  Right off the highway we spotted a coffee shop called the Coffee Nutty Net Café. Before Pocky had even stopped the car, our doors were open and we were fleeing for the coffee and bathrooms.

  “Wait,” cried Pocky, “no large lattes or megamochas—we’ve got to make it to Texas before Sunday!”

  Polly and Era ordered at the counter, and I hit the bathroom. On my way out, I noticed a cluster of computers in a nook to my left. I slyly wandered over and sat down at the first free computer. The Grind has a computer, and I’d used the Internet there (with Claire’s help). I felt very worldly and wise as I placed my hand on the mouse. At that moment a girl in an outrageous fuschia shirt and tight pants glided into the space next to me.

  Even in Olympus it’s rude to stare. So I quickly turned my attention back to the screen in front of me and typed in Denver. Up came a quick listing about Denver, Colorado, the historic sites, the places you could stay, the football. Huh, I thought, maybe that football uniform wasn’t that odd after all. It was a Denver thing. Anyway, I found a map and typed in my “starting destination” as the Alamo and my “final destination” as Denver. 1,136 miles. That sounded like kind of a lot. Yikes.

  I had the nagging feeling that someone was looking over my shoulder, but when I looked over at the girl sitting next to me, she was focusing intently on her own screen. I got up and casually headed for the table.

  “You did have to go, didn’t you? I’m sorry for making you wait, Thalia.”

  “What? Oh, yeah, yeah, bathroom, right. It’s okay, Pocky.”

  Two strangers were sitting with my sisters and Pocky. They were dressed as outrageously as the girl I’d seen over at the computers, and they were whispering something to Era.

  “Here’s your single espresso,” offered Pocky. “No doubles allowed.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Meet our new friends. They’re in a band.” Pocky gestured to the two girls sitting across from him just as the girl from the computer pulled up a seat behind me.

  “Yeah,” said the redheaded girl across the table. “We thought you guys
might be, too. We just thought you looked like hipsters, but you know, road-weary hipsters. Like maybe you had a punk band or something.”

  “No, but maybe we should start a band—that would be more fun than this trip has been,” said Era. She was just staring at the girl next to her. She was wearing these great black pants that looked like leather. And she had glitter everywhere.

  “We’ve only been on the road for half an hour—give me a break, Era,” cried Pocky, a little exasperated with the Muse sisters.

  “Being in a band is pretty fun,” said the dark-haired girl sitting next to the redhead. “We’ve traveled all over.”

  “Really? Like where? Is the Alamo a good place?” asked Era.

  “Uh, the Alamo kinda stinks,” piped up the blonde behind me. “It’s nothing but a big old dirty empty building and some tacky gift shops.”

  “Hey, it’s not that bad,” yelped Pocky. Way to go, Pocky.

  “You want to head east. New York is cool. It doesn’t get any cooler than the Big Apple. There’s so much to do and see, and the shopping is fantastic,” continued the blonde.

  Wait, wait, wait. What was happening here?

  “I want to go to New York!” cried Era.

  New York, I thought. Upper-right side of map. Yikes. It’s superfar from Denver. Superduper far.

  “I’m also fond of Miami,” the blonde added. “The beaches are hot, and the dancing goes all night.”

  “I want to go to Miami!” cried Era.

  Miami? I thought. I have an excellent memory. Inherited it from my mom. Miami was at the lowest point on the right side of the map—way down south. Very, very far from Denver. Unbelievably far.

  “Mmm,” Polly hummed dubiously. Neither of those two cities sounded like they were up her alley. I breathed a sigh of relief. But then she turned to the blonde, who seemed to be the leader, and said, “Do you know anything about Colonial Williamsburg?”

  “We just came from there!” she replied. “We played a gig there, and it was a blast. I mean, the costumes are amazing—the girls know how to dress. And the gardens are magnificent, you know, if you like that sort of thing.”

  “We like that sort of thing,” cried Polly.

  “And let me tell you,” whispered the redhead to Era, “the boys there ain’t so bad, either.”

  “We like that sort of thing,” concurred Era.

  “No!” I finally yelped.

  “Yes, Thalia, yes,” said Polly. “If these people think it’s cool—wait, what’s your band’s name?”

  “The Beautiful Omen.”

  “If the Beautiful Omen say it’s cool, it’s got to be cool. And I said I was going to stand up for what’s right for me from now on, and I want to go to Colonial Williamsburg. Pocky, let’s turn the car around and head for Virginia!”

  Pocky threw up his hands. “Hey, you know what? Wherever you wanna go.” And then in a funny accent he added, “Milady, your wish is my command.”

  “But—but…” This was unbelievable. We were turning around? Heading directly away from Denver? I tried to think of some good reason we should head west, but I was coming up dry.

  “Why are you so intent on going to the Alamo, Thalia?” asked Polly, supersuspiciously.

  “I’m not. Whatever—Colonial Williamsburg is fine.”

  I had to concede. I had to be selfless. Because I had no good reason for wanting to go to the Alamo other than the best reason, and the most selfish reason—Dylan from Denver. And I just couldn’t tell my sisters that. “To Virginia it is.”

  Denver, CO. Well, it’s no surprise

  That’s what was revealed to Alek’s spying eyes.

  It’s Dylan that Thalia is hoping to follow.

  She still doesn’t know that he’s really Apollo.

  Our plan is now clear and easy as pumpkin pie.

  We’ll keep the Muses away from Denver and spy.

  The longer they stay, the more heartsick Thalia will be.

  She’ll resort to forbidden magic trickery.

  Frustrated and desperate, she’ll use her own powers

  And be banished to Hades—to forever be ours.

  SIX

  Wednesday, 4:10 P.M., Pocky’s car on Interstate 85

  “I can’t believe they’re asleep—it’s not even dinnertime,” whispered Pocky. I had to admit, I was feeling a bit sleepy myself. This driving thing wasn’t nearly as fun as it sounded.

  “So are we there yet?” I asked quietly, so as to not wake my sisters.

  “No, we’re not there yet!” Pocky’s voice grew louder.

  “Well, it just seems like we’ve been on the road forever,” I complained.

  “We’ve only been driving two hours since we changed our minds and decided to head for Virginia.”

  “I didn’t change my mind. I wanted to go to the Alamo.”

  “Why? Why were you so bent on hitting the Alamo?”

  “Um, you just made it sound real fun, that’s all.” I was getting too good at this lying thing. I thought about confiding in Pocky about Dylan. He didn’t know about my promise to be more selfless. But I just couldn’t.

  “Oh, well, Williamsburg will be real fun, too, I swear.”

  “Yeah, if we ever get there.” I pouted and looked at the map for the eighteenth time in the last hour and a half, despite the fact that I now had every inch of it committed to memory.

  Virginia didn’t look that far on the map. But here we were, still in the car, and oh my goddess, that sign said we were just now crossing into South Carolina! That couldn’t be! That meant we’d been in Georgia this whole time. We still had to go through South Carolina and North Carolina before we even entered Virginia. This was bad, very bad. At this rate I would never get to Denver. Not only were we heading in the opposite direction, we were doing it at a phlegmatic snail’s pace!

  I pulled out Dylan’s note from my pocket, the one he wrote me before his parents took him out of school with no notice and moved back to Denver. It read,

  Thalia,

  You make me so mad sometimes. And so very happy. Most of all you make me laugh. I just wanted to let you know how special you truly are and how much this has meant to me.

  By the time you read this, I’ll be home.

  Till you are with me…

  XO

  I just had to get to Denver and talk to him. I had unresolved feelings. For him and for Apollo, and don’t ask me why, but I was sure that talking to Dylan was going to somehow automatically sort out my feelings for Apollo. Not that I could do anything about Apollo. He’d probably never speak to me again. He probably hated my guts and innards and intestines, too. And then there was that pesky little he’s-miles-and-centuries-away problem. Still, I missed his smile and his recklessness and his ability to find the best adventure and make time stand still. That sure would come in handy about now!

  Time stand still. Time stand still. Actually, I couldn’t quite do that. But truth be told, I could get us to Williamsburg faster. Much faster. And if we got to Williamsburg faster, we could see the sites there and start heading to Denver.

  But no magic. I promised Polly and Era, not to mention Hera and Daddy. Of course, we had used magic for Polly when we were punishing that horrible Tim* guy. And nothing bad came of it, no lightning filled the sky, no horrible, life-threatening messages from Hera, nothing. In fact, things had turned out rather well.

  And if I got us to Williamsburg quicker, then Polly would be happy and get to feel like she chose the destination, and then I could get to go to Denver, too. Which really, if you thought about it, fulfilled my challenge in a way because I got to be more selfless (helping Polly) and still get what I wanted (Dylan). So using magic in this situation would really be a very, very good thing. In fact, I was almost positive that my sisters would have wanted me to, if they were awake.

  I made sure we were on a generic stretch of highway—trees, trees, and more trees. It had been like this for the past two hours, so hopefully it was like this the whole way. I closed my ey
es tight and visualized us somewhere closer, much closer to Williamsburg. I wiggled my ears, twice on the left, thrice on the right, and intoned the name of Nike, the goddess of speed.

  And suddenly everything shifted. We’d made the move. Not that you could really tell—there were still tons of trees everywhere and not much else. I looked over at Pocky, who was blinking and rubbing his eyes, as if he felt something was a little off but didn’t know what. Then he just yawned and settled farther into his seat. I looked back at my sisters, still fast asleep. I closed my eyes in relief.

  I was just drifting off when Pocky shook my arm, hard. “Thalia, we—are—in—Virginia! When we left that rest stop, we were in South Carolina! It’s still daylight!”

  “No, silly, the last time I looked, we were in North Carolina, not South.”

  “I’m sure we were in South Carolina. At least I think I’m sure.”

  “Really, we’d been in North Carolina for quite some time. We just crossed into Virginia, right? I’ve got the map right here—it makes perfect sense.”

  “By my calculations we weren’t scheduled to get into Williamsburg until something like one in the morning.”

  “You know, Pocky, you rock at history, but math isn’t your strong suit. Your calculations just must’ve been wrong.”

  “Yeah, must’ve been wrong. It’s just—”

  “Pocky, it’s been a long trip, you’ve had to deal with the crazy Muse sisters, and it’s probably taken its toll. Trust me, we’re in Virginia, and that’s exactly where we should be.”

  SEVEN

  Wednesday, 4:40 P.M., Pocky’s car in the Colonial Williamsburg parking lot

  “I just don’t understand it, Thalia—we just got here way too fast.”

  “Trust me, Pocky, that trip wasn’t all that fast. To me, it was treacherously slow. Hey, Era, Polly, wake up, we’re here.”

  “Wha? Finally!” said Era, her curls all tousled and smooshed from falling asleep in the back of the car.