The Hidden Oracle (The Trials of Apollo #1)(40)

“That happens sometimes,” Meg said. “You’ll think of it.”

“But it never happens to me! Stupid human brain! At any rate, I believe this grove is somewhere in those woods. I don’t know how or why. But the whispering voices…they are from this hidden Oracle. The sacred trees are trying to speak prophecies, reaching out to those with burning questions, luring them in.”

Meg put her glasses back on. “You know that sounds crazy, right?”

I steadied my breathing. I had to remind myself that I was no longer a god. I had to put up with insults from mortals without being able to blast them to ashes.

“Just be on guard,” I said.

“But the race doesn’t even go through the woods.”

“Nevertheless…we are not safe. If you can summon your friend Peaches, I would welcome his company.”

“I told you, he sort of pops up when he feels like it. I can’t—”

Chiron blew a hunting horn so loudly my vision doubled. Another pledge to myself: once I became a god again, I would descend upon this camp and take away all their horns.

“Demigods!” said the centaur. “Tie your legs together and follow me to your starting positions!”


We gathered in a meadow about a hundred yards from the Big House. Making it that far without a single life-threatening incident was a minor miracle. With my left leg bound to Meg’s right, I felt the way I used to in Leto’s womb just before my sister and I were born. And, yes, I remember that quite well. Artemis was always shoving me aside, elbowing me in the ribs and generally being a womb hog.

I said a silent prayer that if I got through this race alive, I would sacrifice a bull to myself and possibly even build myself a new temple. I am a sucker for bulls and temples.

The satyrs directed us to spread out across the meadow.

“Where is the starting line?” Holly Victor demanded, shoving her shoulder ahead of her sister’s. “I want to be the closest.”

“I want to be closest,” Laurel corrected. “You can be second closest.”

“Not to worry!” Woodrow the satyr sounded very worried. “We’ll explain everything in a moment. As soon as I, um, know what to explain.”

Will Solace sighed. He was, of course, tied to Nico. He propped his elbow on Nico’s shoulder as if the son of Hades were a convenient shelf. “I miss Grover. He used to organize things like this so well.”

“I’d settle for Coach Hedge.” Nico pushed Will’s arm off. “Besides, don’t talk about Grover too loudly. Juniper’s right over there.”

He pointed to one of the dryads—a pretty girl dressed in pale green.

“Grover’s girlfriend,” Will explained to me. “She misses him. A lot.”

“Okay, everybody!” Woodrow shouted. “Spread out a little bit more, please! We want you to have plenty of room so, you know, if you die, you won’t take down all the other teams too!”

Will sighed. “I am so excited.”

He and Nico loped off. Julia and Alice from the Hermes cabin checked their shoes one more time, then glared at me. Connor Stoll was paired with Paolo Montes, the Brazilian son of Hebe, and neither of them seemed happy about it.

Perhaps Connor looked glum because his mangled scalp was covered in so much medicinal salve his head looked like it had been coughed up by a cat. Or perhaps he just missed his brother Travis.

As soon as Artemis and I were born, we couldn’t wait to get some distance between us. We staked out our own territories and that was that. But I would’ve given anything to see her just then. I was sure Zeus had threatened her with severe punishment if she tried to help me during my time as a mortal, but she could have at least sent me a care package from Olympus—a decent toga, some magical acne cream, and maybe a dozen cranberry ambrosia scones from the Scylla Cafe. They made excellent scones.

I scanned the other teams. Kayla and Austin were bound together, looking like a deadly pair of street performers with her bow and his saxophone. Chiara, the cute girl from Tyche, was stuck with her nemesis, Damien White, son of…well, Nemesis. Billie Ng from Demeter was leg-tied with Valentina Diaz, who was hastily checking her makeup in the reflective surface of Billie’s silver coat. Valentina didn’t seem to notice that two twigs were sprouting from her hair like tiny deer antlers.

I decided the biggest threat would be Malcolm Pace. You can never be too careful with children of Athena. Surprisingly, though, he’d paired himself with Sherman Yang. That didn’t seem like a natural partnership, unless Malcolm had some sort of plan. Those Athena children always had a plan. It rarely included letting me win.

The only demigods not participating were Harley and Nyssa, who had set up the course.

Once the satyrs judged we had all spread out sufficiently and our leg bindings had been double-checked, Harley clapped for our attention.

“Okay!” He bounced up and down eagerly, reminding me of the Roman children who used to cheer for executions at the Colosseum. “Here’s the deal. Each team has to find three golden apples, then get back to this meadow alive.”

Grumbling broke out among the demigods.

“Golden apples,” I said. “I hate golden apples. They bring nothing but trouble.”

Meg shrugged. “I like apples.”

I remembered the rotten one she’d used to break Cade’s nose in the alley. I wondered if perhaps she could use golden apples with the same deadly skill. Perhaps we stood a chance after all.