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After recovering from shock, Nick followed the Sphinx (though not into the water) down to the city of Thebes. What he saw reminded him of that city with Heph’s temple.
Thebes had another one seated on a low hill, its walls painted brightly and its style very Greek. The rest of the city seemed to be laid out nicely, with tall junipers guarding buildings, and tons of statues all painted in wacky colors. On a second, smaller hill; a gang of toga-clad dudes was having some kind of gathering. Man, they were loud, gesturing and yelling like Ya-Ya.
One guy in a blue toga broke away in disgust. Nick decided to take a chance and hastily ran after him.
“How’s it goin’?” Nick asked. “Hey, know where I can find Hercules?” The man looked confused, but still gave a low whistle as he looked over Nick’s armor. “Um, Hercules?” Nick said again. “Labors . . . and stuff?”
“Ναί, Ναί,” said the man, and Nick thought he was sunk, until the man came out with, “Heracles! Ναί?”
“Yes! Uh, Ναί,” Nick cried.
The man spewed something in Greek, and, just as with Ya-Ya, Nick could only shrug. Frowning, Blue Toga spun him around and pointed to a large market.
“Heracles,” he said.
“Thanks,” said Nick, heading toward that crowded place. He saw a host of those flat-roofed tents, and boy, were their merchants selling. Clay pots with thin, black figures seemed the hot item, not to mention platters of food. Man, how Nick craved some olives! Even a slice of pita. But, apart from his armor, he didn’t have any gold: heck, he didn’t know if they even used money here.
Forcing himself past fish stalls, Nick looked for a guy he expected to be, well, big. He wasn’t disappointed as he saw the towering head of a man who wore . . . a lion’s skin. If that wasn’t Hercules, then Nick was one of the Muses!
“All right, everyone gets a copy, don’t push.”
The Hero addressed the mob, most of whom held up scrolls. At Hercules’ side and behind him, Nick saw scribes scrawling away with ink-dipped brushes. That’s when he got it. This was an author event, and Herc was signing “books” like he was at Barnes & Noble!
“One for you, and you—” Herc said, accepting misshapen gold coins.
“Ack Hydra!” one man shouted.
“Blah blah Aegean!” said another.
“Now, now,” said Herc, “it’s right there in the papyrus. For only two drachmas, you can read all about it.”
“Excuse me,” said Nick, forcing his way between togas.
“No need to rush,” said Herc, then turned to yell at his scribes. “Faster! I need at least twenty more. Do I have to dip ink myself?”
The scribes, looking exhausted, tried to pick up the pace.
“Heracles!” Nick shouted, waving his sword over the throng.
That got the big guy’s attention.
“Hey!” Heracles shouted, “fellow Hero!” He gestured for his squad—which, based on the gold they held, seemed to be his agent and publicist—to move Nick to the front of the line. “You must be Nikólaos! Your dad said to expect you.” He nodded toward Nick’s armor. “Nice fit. Of course, I performed all my Labors in nothing but a loincloth, but I am, after all, a Demi.”
“I know,” said Nick, hoping to get this over with. “If you don’t mind, I have a question.”
“Speak,” said Herc, gesturing like a king.
“Well . . .why can I understand you—and the Sphinx, and gods—but not these people here?”
Herc threw back his head and laughed.
“I’m not known for my brains,” he said, “but it appears you can speak only to mythical beings.”
“Oh,” said Nick. That made a kind of warped sense.
“Say,” said Herc, “for just two coins, you can read about me, and get a signed scroll.”
“I’m broke,” said Nick.
“Too bad. These babies are goin’ like gastrin!” He pointed to a stall selling something that looked like baklava.
“Yeah.” Nick felt he should go and let Herc become a bestseller. “So—”
“Right. Advice time.”
Herc dangled an ink-splashed reed over another scroll.
“All Heroes,” he said, “even me, need some kind of helper.”
“Are you mine?” Nick asked, his voice rising with hope.
“‘Fraid not,” said Herc. “One Hero to a quest. And as you can see, I’m busy.”
“But why—?” Nick asked, pointing to all the scribes.
“After my painful death, Father Zeus made me a god.”
“I know, but—?”
“Gods love to be worshipped, and, the more scrolls I sell, the more sacrifices I get.” Herc stroked his beard. “That counts for a lot on Olympus.”
Nick sighed.
“Okay. Then where do I find my helper?”
“Hmm.” Herc kept signing. “If I were you, I’d start in Athens, at the Temple of Athena. After she and I overindulged in nectar one night, she told me she favors you. To a Hero, that’s gold.”
“Oh.” Nick felt let down. He’d hoped for more from Hercules. “Well . . . how do I get there?”
“HEY!” Heracles roared to the crowd. “No pushing! I said there’s enough for all. Don’t make me go out there with my huge spiky club.”
He turned back to Nick.
“Take the southern path through Boetia until you get to Attica, then—oh, what the heck.” He smacked Nick on the shoulder. “May you have half the success I did. And no more than a fourth of the glory!”
Nick had no time to say thanks as he found himself on a ghost ship: or, more precisely, a small boat with a single red sail. The deep blue of the sea, coupled with the soft warm breeze, made him relax slightly. He could have done with a guide—Chiron, anyone?—but after a life of neglect, he wasn’t exactly shocked that his dad wasn’t there.
“O. . . kay,” he breathed, as he approached a shore. If that’s Athens, Nick thought, it’s totally awesome! Framed by low-lying cliffs, the city had a well-planned look. On one high, raised pedestal were a bunch of flat-roofed buildings.
Nick found that sailing was peaceful—he’d never done it before. He just wanted to hang on that ship, check out the port. But no, he thought. Like always, there was someplace he had to be; some boring task to complete. Well, this one might not be boring if it involved a monster. . .
Speaking of non-boring, Nick passed a massive grey statue of a huge guy from the back. His head was crowned with a wreath and in his hand was a trident. The whole lump of stone sat right in the water.
“Poseidon,” Nick said. At least he knew that much.
After he passed the Sea God, he told his boat to stop. It did, its prow coming to rest
Against that neat grassy shore. With reluctance, Nick hopped off.
He gazed up at that huge pedestal and walked to its white-marbled stairs. Good thing, he thought, that I have runner’s legs, ‘cause it was a long way to the top.
“No worries,” said Nick, climbing. As his sandals hit stone, he felt a swell of pride. “I’m a Hero,” he said to no one, “and Athena favors me.”
