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Nick felt mixed emotions as he followed the voice’s owner. Sure, he was glad that the guy had stepped in to stop the carnage, but what right did he have to give orders? After seventeen years, who’d died and made him a father?
“Here.”
With an arm as ripped as Orion’s, Chiron pointed to a large cave. Nick paused before going in, then dragged his feet behind Helen.
“I didn’t want to kill them,” he said.
“I know,” said Chiron. “Alas, there was no choice.” He stared down at Helen, betraying the trace of a smile. “Medusa,” he said, “how you’ve changed.”
“Wait,” said Nick. “You know each other?”
“It was centuries ago,” said Chiron. “I happened upon her isle and we had a good talk.”
“Yes,” said Helen, blushing.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nick asked her.
“It didn’t seem that important.”
“Take a deep breath,” his dad told him, sitting down to a meal which was thankfully cooked. “Dare I offer wine?”
“Only if it’s watered,” said Helen, and Chiron, nodding, filled two gold goblets.
“My son,” he said, “I could not be more proud. I told Zeus you could do it. Four Labors achieved, and you don’t have a scratch on you.”
As Nick took some bread, he said, “You know that one doesn’t count.”
“A trifle,” said Chiron. “You’ve destroyed three children of Typhon.”
This caused Helen to sigh.
“I am sorry,” Chiron told her, “but they were truly monsters.”
Though she nodded, Nick saw her eyes mist. He decided to change the subject: to his favorite, in fact.
“So,” he said to his dad. “Thanks for not being there when I landed.”
“You did just fine on your own.”
“Sure,” said Nick. “It’s not like I needed advice.”
“As you well know,” said his dad, “I cannot help with your Labors.”
Nick crossed his arms.
“Athena seemed to come through. So did Heph.”
“They are gods,” his dad said. “They may do what they like.”
“I don’t buy it,” said Nick. “I think . . . I think that you just don’t care.”
So many years of not having a dad caused his voice to break. When he thought of his mom—alone; struggling to raise him—he wanted to flip this guy off.
“Nikólaos,” said Helen, “you must show your father respect. He is in charge of all centaurs, beloved by the gods, and immortal.”
“But ignores his own son,” Nick said bitterly. He turned to his dad. “So, how many of us kids are there? Enough to run the Derby?”
Chiron shook his head sadly.
“You are my only child. And so it shall ever be.”
The pounding in Nick’s ears quieted.
“Oh,” he said. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”
Helen took his hand.
“Nikólaos,” she told him, “now that your father is here, perhaps he can guide us.”
“Yes,” said Chiron, shaking his long dark hair like a mane. “Beware Poseidon,” he warned. “He does not mean you well.”
“We figured that out,” said Nick, “when he tried to kill us twice.”
“Have a care with the son. His hubris will be his undoing.”
“I can’t wait,” said Nick. “I totally hate that guy.”
“Try not to hate,” said his dad. “The object of it does not care, but you will tear yourself up.”
“Do you write memes?” Nick asked.
“I have lived long,” said Chiron. “Experience counts for much.”
“He’s right,” said Helen. “I learned a lot as Medusa.”
“Well,” Nick told them, “what I learned as a centaur is that I run really fast. And, as a guy, I make a terrible drunk.”
Both Chiron and Helen smiled.
“Do not be upset, my son. You have shown yourself as a hero and . . .” He turned to Helen, “. . . a gentleman. No father can ask for more.”
Now Nick smiled, about to say something nice. But he was halted by sounds from outside: the angry pounding of hooves; the high-pitched squeal of a stallion.
“It’s them,” he breathed, reaching for his sword.
“Le’ me at ‘im!” cried a voice heavy with wine.
“Me firs’!” said another.
Nick saw two centaurs fighting to enter the cave.
“You,” said a white one to Nick, seizing his bow and quiver. “You kill Pholus!”
“I didn’t!” Nick yelled, ducking, “It was an ac—”
He heard a powerful twang as the centaur let loose his dart. Nick waited to fall, but for some reason he didn’t. Then his dad groaned and keeled over.
“IDIOTS!” Nick screamed, running toward the intruders.
Wide-eyed at what they’d done, the two of them galloped out.
“Dad,” Nick whispered, falling to his knees beside him. “Is there anything—?”
“No,” said his dad, wincing. There was that damned poison arrow, sticking out from his chest. “I cannot die, but the pain . . . will never stop.”
Now at Nick’s side, Helen burst into tears.
“I’m sorry, I’m not a healer,” she said. “Just a monster who kills.”
“Stop,” Nick told her. “We need to focus on him.”
He bent, seizing the arrow’s long shaft; trying to pull it out slowly. What was left on Chiron’s breast was a gaping wound that smoked.
“Bury the dart,” gasped Chiron.
“Be careful,” Nick told Helen as she picked up the shaft.
With a nod, she went out.
“My son,” said Chiron, “This I never foresaw. I thought that when the time came, I could be there for you. For during your last Labor, you might have had my help.” He sighed, then shook with anguish. “Alas, it is not to be.”
“Dad,” said Nick, “can’t we pray to the gods? Athena seems to like me.”
His dad forced a smile.
“The only god who aids me is probably drunk on wine.”
“But she—”
“I tell you it won’t work. Now forget me and find that Boar.”
“No,” Nick protested.
“It is all right,” said his dad, giving Nick’s arm a pat. “Though my pain will last forever, I am willing to make a sacrifice.”
To whom? Nick thought. Hadn’t he just said that the gods ignored him?
“I intend,” said Chiron, “to take the place of another immortal.”
“Who?” Nick asked, confused.
“Prometheus.”
“The guy who gave us fire?”
“Yes,” said his dad, his face twisted with pain. “The gods resented his act and chained him to a rock. Every day, an eagle comes to eat his liver.”
“Ech!” Nick cried. “These gods are total tools!”
“They can be,” Chiron groaned, clutching at his wound. Then he shifted his gaze to the roof of the cave. “Hear me, great Zeus, and Queen Hera beside you. Allow me to make my sacrifice to free another from torment.”
Nick felt a change in the air, like something unseen was around him and trying to push him back. He fought, but it was no use: when the force departed, he saw that he was alone. His dad, in his agony, was nowhere to be seen.
Nick laid down on the floor, trying to hold back tears. But they came anyway, burning the back of his throat.
“Where is he?” Helen cried from the entrance. She looked around the deep cavern.
“Gone,” Nick whispered. He could barely speak. “He was very brave.”
“Oh no,” said Helen, kneeling to cradle his head. Nick heard her pray to Athena.
“It’s so unfair,” Nick said when she’d done. “I had a dad for just one day.”
“But he was a good one,” said Helen. “Mine is a towering monster who wants to undo the world.”
“Yeah,” Nick sighed. “I guess there’s that.”
As much as he longed to stay—take a few of dad’s things—Nick knew that he better go. He wanted Chiron, wherever he was, to go right on being proud.
Nick rose to his feet with effort.
“We should find Orion,” he said. “Dad said to go get that Boar.”
