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The walk back to Cleonae was a heck of a lot more cheerful than the one they’d taken that morning. Nick nearly bounced in his sandals as he clutched the lion’s paw. Maybe he could hold onto it—use it as a good-luck charm. Then he looked down at those nails which could double as railroad spikes.
“Nope,” he said.
“What?” asked Helen. “Let me look at your sword.”
Nick handed it over. They both got close to the blade to see an etched red “ε” an inch down from the “Τ.”
“That’s two!” Helen crowed. “Only ten to go.”
“Ten?” Nick repeated, his mood dampened as they reached the town. Did there have to be so many? Couldn’t he do like three?
Nick tried to smile as Molorchos ran up. The shepherd stared, wide-eyed, at the giant paw. What followed was a stream of babble.
“He says,” said Helen, “‘Bless the gods!’ And urges his son Tomaso to put a ram on the spit.”
A young boy down the road ran off in excitement.
Nick tried to share it.
“Well, I’m still alive. And I guess we get lunch.”
Molorchos laughed like a child. He spoke gibberish to other townsfolk, who gathered in awe behind him.
Helen turned to Nick.
“They say you’re the equal of Heracles, though you won’t wear the pelt.”
“Tell them it’s too hot,” said Nick. “Plus, it’s not my size.”
The townsfolk dragged him to a dusty square where a ram was already roasting. They plied Nick with wine until the main course (which smelled heavenly) was taken off whole from its spit.
“Got any chops?” Nick asked Tomaso, which Helen repeated in Greek. Spread lightly with fresh honey, they almost made that First Labor worth it!
“Delicious,” Nick tried to say, but his mouth was full.
Helen too seemed happy as she sat and munched.
“You see?” she said. “Once you finish a Labor, all the people love you.”
“Reminds me of P.R.” Helen gave him a smile. “Everyone loves you after you’ve won a meet. Before that, you don’t exist.”
“So,” she puzzled out, “you only come alive when you’re crowned with the wreath?”
“In the eyes of others, yes.”
She sighed.
“It is not so different here.”
Nick nodded, downing another chop. Wiping honey from his chin, he looked down at his propped-up shield. “Hey, I hate to ask, but what does that thing say is up next?”
“Oh,” she said, bending over a raised image. “Oh, no.”
“Oh no,’ what?” he asked. “Is it worse than Leo?”
“Well . . .” she said, straightening. “You need to-to slay the Hydra.”
Nick nearly choked.
“Isn’t that the snake with three heads?”
“Close,” said Helen. “This one’s the Lernaean Hydra, and it has, um, nine heads.”
“Nine?” Nick asked, spitting out pieces of meat.
“And, well, there’s one more thing.”
“Don’t tell me,” said Nick. “It can’t be killed?”
“Almost. You see, the center head is immortal.”
Nick dropped his plate in the dirt.
“You have got to be kidding!” he shouted.
“I seldom do,” she said. “Turning men to stone was not humorous.”
Nick didn’t know what to say. He just got up and starting pacing in the dirt. Now, the pungent smell of ram was making him want to throw up.
“‘Bye,” he called to Molorchos, giving him a big wave. “Thanks for all the sheep! Gotta move on; be a Hero.”
The townsfolk set up a cheer as he and Helen walked back to the path.
“About this snake,” said Nick.
“The Lernaean Hydra.”
“Okay. First of all—where is it?”
“The myth says it lives by a swamp outside of Lake Lerna.”
“I’m not too anxious to get there. Are you?”
“Not really,” she said, looking down. “I could use a break from monsters. Especially having been one.”
“What do you mean?”
“In a way, I am sorry for them. I know how it feels to be hated and shunned.”
“Me too, but I wasn’t a monster: just Greek.”
“That,” said Helen, “is something to be proud of.”
“Heck yeah!” Nick agreed, looking into her eyes. Man, they were something, like a place you wanted to visit . . . then stay there forever.
“Mýthos to Nick,” she called, waving a hand in front of him. “As much as we want to delay, I fear that time is the enemy. If my father returns, it will mean the end of our world.”
“And mine,” Nick reminded, thinking of Mt. Etna. “Or does that not concern you?”
“Of course it does!” she cried. “Without your world and its worshippers, ours could never exist. There would have been no Zeus to create it.”
“Okay, sorry,” Nick said, though he was getting irritable. Maybe it was the heat—and the prospect of fighting nine heads.
“Look, if you don’t want me here, I’ll leave,” said Helen, flinging back her red hair. All that Nick could see was the bare white flesh of her shoulder. “Hello?” she asked, bringing him back to eart—Mýthos.
“What? Oh no. I need you, right?” Nick tried to give her what he hoped was a dazzling smile. “How else would I know where to go?”
“I can tell you,” she said.
“To Hades?” asked Nick. “Helen, you made a joke!” She shrugged. “But you know there’s more than that. Being a Hero is . . . well, frankly, it’s lonely. And if you weren’t here, who would tell me not to give up? If you hadn’t been in that cave, I would have run away.”
As a guy, he had trouble saying this: but, as a Greek, it was tough to hold back.
Beside him, Helen smiled—even patted his arm.
“Very well,” she said, “let’s not fight. You must save your strength for your Labor.”
“Yay,” said Nick. Then he thought of the Hydra. “How do we get to Lake Lemon?”
“Lerna,” she corrected. “I’m fairly sure it’s south, but I don’t know how far.”
“Okay,” said Nick. “Let’s head that way and hope we never get there.”
Helen shook her head.
They walked all afternoon, trudging in the heat until they spotted two shepherds. Nick groaned. Not more lamb chops! He let Helen approach them, and was glad he did, since she returned with bread and cheese, not to mention wine.
Nick was more thirsty than hungry: still, this food was so fresh that he ate every bite. Even Helen finished her portion.
“Thanks,” said Nick as Helen got up to give back the jug. When she rejoined him, he tried to find some shade. Ha! “You know,” he said, “I always thought Greece was so green. Ya-Ya used to say there’s always an olive nearby.” He looked around. “All that I see are rocks.”
“That’s just here,” said Helen. “With the gods’ blessing, we’ll see some wonderful places.”
“The gods,” Nick mumbled. Is that what he had to count on? His thoughts turned to his dad, carrying on the family tradition: of never showing up. “Nice of Chiron to help,” he muttered.
“He cannot,” said Helen. “Like all of us here, he must obey Zeus’ will.”
“What about me?” Nick asked. “I’m not even from here.”
“Does it matter? For you have seen Hephaestus; heard the voice of Athena. You have been to Olympus and viewed the Sphinx and Lion. How can you not believe?”
Nick struggled with this one.
“Um . . .” he said, “I wasn’t brought up ‘in the faith.’ I mean, where I come from, we only have one god.”
“Curious.”
“And dudes like Zeus and Apollo . . . in my world, they’re just myths.”
Helen arched an eyebrow.
“But you have seen them with your own eyes.”
“Well . . .” Nick tried to think, but it was just too darned hot. “I know I’ve seen things, but I’m not sure what they are. I mean, this could all be Storyland where nothing in it is real. In a way, I hope so.”
“Do you?” asked Helen sharply. “Then your father is a dream, and-and so am I. We simply do not exist.”
“I didn’t mean that!” Nick cried, wishing he had stayed quiet. “It’s just . . . if Mýthos was make-believe, then I couldn’t be killed.”
“Oh,” said Helen, but she still didn’t sound too thrilled.
“Of course,” Nick went on, “I don’t wish you were a dream. As far as my dad . . .”
“Do not discount him,” she said. “He might help you yet. Or do you have the gift of prophecy?”
“Me?” Nick hooted. “If I did, I wouldn’t be here!”
“Hmph,” said Helen, and, for the next few miles, they tread their path in silence. As in all his races, Nick waited for a second wind, and, at mile five, he felt it kick in strongly.
“Wanna go for it?” he asked. “I mean, you are a world-striding Titan.”
“For what?” she asked. “Unlike you, I am not an oracle.”
“Let’s run!” Nick cried, and he put himself in track mode. His armor—more awkward than heavy—wasn’t much of a burden, though his weapons were clunky. He was glad to see Helen keep up: even in an ankle-length peplos!
“Loser buys pizza!” Nick yelled, and, though she looked at him oddly, Helen extended her stride, keeping up with him until he found his sweet spot: a hundred-eight strides a minute as his arms and legs pumped together.
Nick felt great. This was just what he needed! He took it to the next level as he approached a large boulder, hearing Helen’s steps behind him. Just like he used to do, he raised both arms in victory.
“The winner!” he cried, bending and clutching his knees. He found he wasn’t that winded, and, as she stopped beside him, Helen too breathed easy.
“By Hermes,” she said, “you are really fast.”
“Told ya,” said Nick, stretching his legs. “I could’ve gone to nationals.”
“And that’s good?” she asked.
“Very.”
“Perhaps you’ll go someday.”
“If I live,” said Nick. Now that he’d worked out, he felt a lot more relaxed. “Hey, I’m thirsty. Let’s go down to that lake.”
He pointed to a small one below.
“Oh no!” Helen cried. “Lake Lerna is filled with poison.”
“From the Hydra?” Nick asked.
“Yes, but this place is known for its springs. Let’s see if we can find one.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Nick, and followed her down to the shore. Now that they were close, he could smell disgusting fumes. Helen stood still as a statue, cocked her head, and listened. She pointed to a copse of trees, where Nick heard a welcome sound: the rushing roar of water.
“Sweet,” he said, jogging by Helen’s side until they discovered the source: a small spring fed by a waterfall. Here, the air was pure, the water as clear as the Mýthos sea.
“Last one in’s a rotten egg!” Nick yelled, stripping off his armor and tunic. Oh. That left him totally naked. Embarrassed, he dove into a pool, feeling caressed by its warmth. Swimming over to the waterfall, he leaned back to catch its spray. Man, that felt good! He just wished that he had some soap.
When Nick moved forward, blinking, he saw that Helen had joined him. She was now without her peplos but covered her breasts with both hands. This was all new to Nick, and, blushing, he turned away.
“You may look,” she said. “You will not see anything you shouldn’t.”
“Great,” he said, not feeling it. He shook his head free of water. “Isn’t this awesome?”
She nodded, and he noticed that her muscles—the ones on top, at least—were as tense as his had been when he’d fought the Lion.
“You can relax,” he told her. “I am not a Poseidon.”
“I know,” she said softly. “But sometimes . . . when there’s a boy and a girl . . . ”
“It’s okay,” he said. “My mom taught me all about it.”
Helen blushed and sighed deeply.
“It is too late for me,” she whispered. “As Athena’s priestess, I was sworn to purity.
Now . . .” She looked down. “All I can do is not shame myself further.”
Nick nodded, hoping to say the right thing.
“Hey, I’m woke. I mean, I believe in consent. Not that I’ve been in that situation . . .”
“‘Cause you just lost interest in girls.”
“Yeah, it’s weird. I know it worries my mom.”
“Well, when the time is right . . .” Helen’s voice trailed off.
“Could that be now?” Nick asked, wondering if he should have said that. “What do you think?”
She didn’t speak—just turned away in sorrow. All of Nick’s passion deflated, and he slowly submerged. When he had to come up for air, he saw that Helen now stood beside him. Placing her arms around his neck, she kissed him full on the lips. Whoa! It was better without those cheek guards! He put his own arms around her, kissing her soft lips as the waterfall sounded behind them. Against his chest, he could feel the swell of her breasts. He took his hands and moved them carefully down her back.
“Helen,” he whispered, “you could launch more than a thousand ships—I’d say, the whole Greek Navy!”
“Nikólaos,” she whispered, stiffening, “as an unmarried woman, I must beg you to stop.”
“Right,” said Nick, reluctantly moving away.
“Also,” she said, shielding herself again, “there is something you do not know. Something about me which I think will disgust you.”
“I doubt it,” Nick protested. “Do we really have any secrets?”
“I do,” said Helen. “You know I have been a monster—”
“Yes.”
“Well.” She looked him right in the eye. “I have spawned other monsters.”
“Oh,” said Nick. He had no other words. Were there other Medusas around, turning men into stone? “I-I think we should get out,” he stuttered.
“Turn around,” Helen commanded, and Nick obeyed, hearing her slip on her garment. “All right.”
Now she turned her back, and, using his tunic as a towel, he hastily put on his armor.
“You know,” he said, struggling, “I knew a girl at school who had a baby last year. It really wasn’t so bad—she ended up marrying Steve.”
Helen whirled like the Titan she was.
“Was she violated?” she cried. “Held against her will by a rapacious god?”
“No!” Nick said. “I see. It wasn’t the same at all.”
Helen wiped tears from her cheeks.
“You have no idea,” she said, “what it’s like not just to be forced, but to bear unnatural children.”
“And then be cursed for it,” Nick said softly. “You’re right, I don’t.” They listened in silence to the waterfall. “Is there anything I can do?”
“What’s done cannot be undone. I ask only that you respect me.”
“Me? Of course. That’s how I was brought up.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I don’t mean to blame you.”
“You’re not,” Nick answered. “You’re just someone who’s really suffered. I wish I could make it better.” She nodded, blinking away tears. “If there’s anything—” Wait, he’d already said that. “Helen, I only hope that things get better for you.”
“They already have,” she said. “You freed me from my torment, and for that I will always be grateful.”
Nick’s shoulders sagged. Had he been put in the Friend Zone?
“I . . . I like you,” she went on, putting a hand on his arm. “In fact, I might even love you.”
Nick had to wait a few seconds, letting her words sink in.
“You—you—”
“I love you,” she said. “You have proved yourself a true Hero. But even more, you are a good and kind man.”
Nick felt his heart sink into his sandals.
“That’s it?” he asked. “Nothing about my big muscles?”
Helen laughed.
“Of course, you are handsome! Though your legs are a bit thin.”
“I’m a runner,” said Nick. “We’re built for speed, not bulk.”
She put her hands to her mouth.
“You make yourself sound like a horse.”
Nick let out a whinny, then took a deep breath.
“Guess it’s my turn,” he said.
“You can do it,” said Helen, “remember—you’re Greek.”
“Helen, I-I really like you too. I haven’t known you for long, but I feel like you’re the one.”
She looked at him, puzzled. “I mean, the-the one I’m supposed to be with for the rest of my life.”
“That’s sweet,” she said, stroking his arm, “but you are very young.”
“You’re not exactly ancient!”
“Actually, I am. That is why I know: Nothing lasts forever. Unless you are immortal.”
There was something about that phrase that seemed like déjà vu. Yes! He had said it himself.
“Well, immortal or not,” he said, “I’m staying with you forever. Just try to get rid of me—I’ll be meaner than Hera!”
