The Hidden Oracle (The Trials of Apollo #1)(11)

“Barely is generous,” I said. “Nevertheless, yes. My fate is now linked with young McCaffrey.”

“We are cooperating,” Meg said. She seemed to savor that word.

From his pocket, Percy fished his ballpoint pen. He tapped it thoughtfully against his knee. “And this whole turning-into-a-mortal thing…you’ve done it twice before?”

“Not by choice,” I assured him. “The first time, we had a little rebellion in Olympus. We tried to overthrow Zeus.”

Percy winced. “I’m guessing that didn’t go well.”

“I got most of the blame, naturally. Oh, and your father, Poseidon. We were both cast down to earth as mortals, forced to serve Laomedon, the king of Troy. He was a harsh master. He even refused to pay us for our work!”

Meg nearly choked on her sandwich. “I have to pay you?”

I had a terrifying image of Meg McCaffrey trying to pay me in bottle caps, marbles, and pieces of colored string.

“Never fear,” I told her. “I won’t be presenting you with a bill. But as I was saying, the second time I became mortal, Zeus got mad because I killed some of his Cyclopes.”

Percy frowned. “Dude, not cool. My brother is a Cyclops.”

“These were wicked Cyclopes! They made the lightning bolt that killed one of my sons!”

Meg bounced on the arm of the sofa. “Percy’s brother is a Cyclops? That’s crazy!”

I took a deep breath, trying to find my happy place. “At any rate, I was bound to Admetus, the king of Thessaly. He was a kind master. I liked him so much, I made all his cows have twin calves.”

“Can I have baby cows?” Meg asked.

“Well, Meg,” I said, “first you would have to have some mommy cows. You see—”

“Guys,” Percy interrupted. “So, just to recap, you have to be Meg’s servant for…?”

“Some unknown amount of time,” I said. “Probably a year. Possibly more.”

“And during that time—”

“I will undoubtedly face many trials and hardships.”

“Like getting me my cows,” Meg said.

I gritted my teeth. “What those trials will be, I do not yet know. But if I suffer through them and prove I am worthy, Zeus will forgive me and allow me to become a god again.”

Percy did not look convinced—probably because I did not sound convincing. I had to believe my mortal punishment was temporary, as it had been the last two times. Yet Zeus had created a strict rule for baseball and prison sentences: Three strikes, you’re out. I could only hope this would not apply to me.

“I need time to get my bearings,” I said. “Once we get to Camp Half-Blood, I can consult with Chiron. I can figure out which of my godly powers remain with me in this mortal form.”

“If any,” Percy said.

“Let’s think positive.”

Percy sat back in his armchair. “Any idea what kind of spirits are following you?”

“Shiny blobs,” Meg said. “They were shiny and sort of…blobby.”

Percy nodded gravely. “Those are the worst kind.”

“It hardly matters,” I said. “Whatever they are, we have to flee. Once we reach camp, the magical borders will protect me.”

“And me?” Meg asked.

“Oh, yes. You, too.”

Percy frowned. “Apollo, if you’re really mortal, like, one hundred percent mortal, can you even get in to Camp Half-Blood?”

The seven-layer dip began to churn in my stomach. “Please don’t say that. Of course I’ll get in. I have to.”

“But you could get hurt in battle now…” Percy mused. “Then again, maybe monsters would ignore you because you’re not important?”

“Stop!” My hands trembled. Being a mortal was traumatic enough. The thought of being barred from camp, of being unimportant…No. That simply could not be.

“I’m sure I’ve retained some powers,” I said. “I’m still gorgeous, for instance, if I could just get rid of this acne and lose some flab. I must have other abilities!”

Percy turned to Meg. “What about you? I hear you throw a mean garbage bag. Any other skills we should know about? Summoning lightning? Making toilets explode?”

Meg smiled hesitantly. “That’s not a power.”

“Sure it is,” Percy said. “Some of the best demigods have gotten their start by blowing up toilets.”

Meg giggled.

I did not like the way she was grinning at Percy. I didn’t want the girl to develop a crush. We might never get out of here. As much as I enjoyed Sally Jackson’s cooking—the divine smell of baking cookies was even now wafting from the kitchen—I needed to make haste to camp.

“Ahem.” I rubbed my hands. “How soon can we leave?”

Percy glanced at the wall clock. “Right now, I guess. If you’re being followed, I’d rather have monsters on our trail than sniffing around the apartment.”

“Good man,” I said.

Percy gestured with distaste at his test manuals. “I just have to be back tonight. Got a lot of studying. The first two times I took the SAT—ugh. If it wasn’t for Annabeth helping me out—”