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“What?” asked Atlas. “Hey, would you mind?” He jerked back his head, motioning to his left shoulder blade. “Ah,” he breathed as Helen scratched away. “That’s one thing I miss.”
“I’m sure,” said Nick, wanting to go. “Now about this Cumae—”
“We passed it before,” said Helen. “When we were with the mermen.”
“I knew it,” Nick cried. “Of course, it has to be far!”
“No use whining, my man,” said Atlas. “I mean, look at me.”
Nick stared at the crouching giant.
“Yeah, you’re right. Well . . . maybe we’ll see you again.”
“That would be nice,” said the giant. “Sometimes I get so lonely.”
Nick and Helen waved as Atlas nodded back.
“See?” Nick told her after they’d left. “His heart isn’t bitter. It’s just that he can’t scratch.”
She nodded as oven-like heat swept over the both of them. Nick dreaded going back to the desert, but knew what he must do.
“Allagí,” he said, after giving Helen his stuff.
She leapt on his back, and, again, they were off. Within a few minutes, Nick could feel sweat coursing down both flesh and hair. He really wanted a bath: the thing that most horses dreaded. If they could just find another oasis . . .
They did, stopping at every one and reversing their travel to night. Nick had always thought that the desert was quiet, but he could hear the roar of sand like some spirits on the move. I can’t wait, he thought, to get back to the sea . . .
Three days later, and there it was. Nick trotted into the surf as waves swept him and Helen.
“That feels so good,” she said, whipping around her wet hair.
“Try having a coat,” Nick told her, kicking out all four legs. “Not bad,” he mumbled, horse-paddling around. When they were done with their impromptu shower, Nick loped back to the beach. “So,” he said, “guess we should summon Glaucus. Should be easy, right?”
Helen shook her head.
“They only obey the Old Man, and, we are not him.”
“I’m willing to age,” said Nick.
“We should have made plans,” Helen said, “for the mermen to meet us here.”
“My bad,” said Nick.
“And mine.”
He sighed as he Allagí-ed back, hastily putting on armor over his sopping wet tunic. But his pity party was short, for he saw, a few yards offshore, the top of a blue head. Then there were three others!
“Glaucus,” Nick called. “Dude.”
“Swim to us,” said the merman.
“How did you—?” Nick started to ask, splashing in with Helen.
“We thought you’d need a way back,” said Glaucus. “We asked the Old Man to call us if you . . . survived.”
“Here we are,” said Nick. “Another Labor crossed off.”
“Proteus told us,” said Glaucus. “Ladon is dead and the apples restored. Hera is at peace.”
“For now,” Nick mumbled, sliding onto the merman’s back. “We have to go to this place, uh—”
“Cumae,” Helen finished.
“I know it,” said Glaucus. “We Greeks have a colony there.”
“I’d be surprised,” said Nick, “if we didn’t.”
He clung to the merman’s neck as the four of them set off.
“So,” he asked Glaucus, “seen anything cool lately?”
“Of course. We have been to Poseidon’s palace, where Triton spun tales of monsters.”
“Fun?”
“Then, we fought giant crabs, won, and had them for dinner.”
“I hope they were cooked,” said Nick. “My mom says to never eat shellfish raw.”
Speaking of eating, he and Helen shared some last dates. Blech! Could they be blander? Nick threw one in the water, along with thoughts of the desert.
“Glaucus,” he said, “I am totally stoked to be here.”
“Perhaps,” said the merman, “you’d like to join our pod.”
“No thanks,” Nick answered. “I’m just getting used to four legs. A fish tail would freak me out.”
His first real friend smiled. All through the day, Nick enjoyed his company, as well as the sea and sky. Once night fell, he got ready, and was not let down: the mermen cut through the water like wake-spurting speedboats.
“Whoo hoo!” Nick yelled.
Glaucus laughed at his outburst, then cleared his throat of water. He must have been feeling good since he started to sing:
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WE MERMEN OF THE SEA have no good use for land
We much prefer our tails to the legs on which Men stand.
We swim beneath the seas for just as long as we please
Or skim the briny surface while Men are on their knees.
We do not answer to any, save our Old Man Proteus
To any form of restraint, we will cry, “That is odious!”
“Bravo!” Nick called as Helen clapped. “No songs about mermaids?”
“They are glorious,” sighed Glaucus. “Each an Aphrodite. I myself have three wives, twelve sons and nine daughters.”
“My God—gods!” cried Nick. “Good thing the sea is vast.”
His friend and crew went Hypersea all night, slowing when morning came. Nick found he looked forward to the other two mermen’s dives, for they brought up mackerel which tasted of the sea. As Glaucus led his men forward, that long coast to the south receded.
Goodbye, Nick thought, to Atlas, Hera, and Harpies.
“So, where are we now?” he asked.
“The Mediterranean,” said Glaucus.
“That’s good, right?”
“If you’re going to Cumae, yes.”
It took one more night at top speed for land to come into view: this was no tip of a continent but one of a fairly big island.
“Sardinia,” said Glaucus.
“Is that Italy?”
“I do not know. On it live Phoenicians and Sardinians.”
“Hmm,” said Nick. When he got back home, he’d try to get hold of a map.
Another wake-filled night, and, at dawn, Glaucus headed toward a long coast.
“We must leave you here,” he said. “We cannot be seen by the men of Napoli.”
“But . . . we’re still in the water,” said Nick. “How—?”
“You must swim. It is but a few miles.”
“Look, I’m a track guy—water isn’t my thing. Plus, I’m scared of your boss’s boss.”
“I am sorry,” said Glaucus, giving a powerful shrug which dislodged Nick from his back. Sputtering, Nick saw that Harold had also dumped Helen.
“Best of luck!” Glaucus called. “Try to avoid the Sybil, since she loves to confound travelers.”
Nick wanted to respond, but Glaucus and his men had dived beneath the surface.
“Goodbye,” he mouthed sadly. Then, he began treading water. “You can swim, right?” he asked Helen.
“I’m a Titan. Can you?”
“I’m from P.R.,” said Nick. “We swim before we can walk.”
“Then let’s go,” she told him, looking especially nice with her spray-dampened hair. Nick’s mind flashed back to that spring . . . the waterfall . . . “C’mon!” she urged, and Nick swam, praising Heph again for his waterproof, lightweight armor. Man, Nick thought, I need to send him an Ecard . . .
Even though they’d been stranded, Nick enjoyed the sun and the warmish water. His muscular arms came in handy as they powered him toward that coast.
“You okay?” he shouted to Helen. “Need a lift?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I am not a wispy Hesperides.”
“I know,” he said, but kept an eye on her anyway as they kicked their way to land.
