FRANK WOULD’VE PREFERRED TO go with his friends, even if it
meant he had to endure green tea with wheat germ. But
Iris roped her arm through his and led him to a café table
at a bay window. Frank set his spear on the floor. He sat
across from Iris. Outside in the dark, the snake monsters
restlessly patrolled the hillside, spewing fire and
poisoning the grass.
‘Frank, I know how you feel,’ Iris said. ‘I imagine that
half-burnt stick in your pocket gets heavier every day.’
Frank couldn’t breathe. His hand went instinctively to
his coat. ‘How do you –?’
‘I told you. I know things. I was Juno’s messenger for
ages. I know why she gave you a reprieve.’
‘A reprieve?’ Frank brought out the piece of firewood
and unwrapped it from its cloth. As unwieldy as Mars’s
spear was, the piece of tinder was worse. Iris was right. It
weighed him down.
‘Juno saved you for a reason,’ the goddess said. ‘She
wants you to serve her plan. If she hadn’t appeared that
day when you were a baby and warned your mother about
the firewood, you would’ve died. You were born with too
many gifts. That sort of power tends to burn out a mortal
life.’
‘Too many gifts?’ Frank felt his ears getting warm with
anger. ‘I don’t have any gifts!’
‘That’s not true, Frank.’ Iris swiped her hand in front of
her like she was cleaning a windshield. A miniature
rainbow appeared. ‘Think about it.’
An image shimmered in the rainbow. Frank saw himself
when he was four years old, running across
Grandmother’s backyard. His mother leaned out the
window of the attic, high above, waving and calling to get
his attention. Frank wasn’t supposed to be in the backyard
by himself. He didn’t know why his mother was up in the
attic, but she told him to stay by the house, not to go too
far. Frank did exactly the opposite. He squealed with
delight and ran to the edge of the woods, where he came
face to face with a grizzly bear.
Until Frank saw that scene in the rainbow, the memory
had been so hazy he thought he’d dreamed it. Now he
could appreciate just how surreal the experience had
been. The bear regarded the little boy, and it was difficult
to tell who was more startled. Then Frank’s mother
appeared at his side. There was no way she should have
been able to get down from the attic so fast. She put
herself between the bear and Frank and told him to run to
the house. This time, Frank obeyed. When he turned at
the back porch, he saw his mother coming out of the
woods. The bear was gone. Frank asked what had
happened. His mother smiled. Mama Bear just needed
directions, she said.
The scene in the rainbow changed. Frank saw himself
as a six-year-old, curling up in his mother’s lap even
though he was much too big for that. His mother’s long
black hair was pulled back. Her arms were around him.
She wore her rimless glasses that Frank always liked to
steal, and her fuzzy grey fleece pullover that smelled like
cinnamon. She was telling him stories about heroes,
pretending they were all related to Frank: one was Xu Fu,
who sailed in search of the elixir of life. The rainbow
image had no sound, but Frank remembered his mother’s
words: He was your great-great-great- … She would poke
Frank’s stomach every time she said great-, dozens of
times, until he was giggling uncontrollably.
Then there was Sung Guo, also called Seneca
Gracchus, who fought twelve Roman dragons and sixteen
Chinese dragons in the western deserts of China. He was
the strongest dragon of all, you see, his mother said.
That’s how he could beat them! Frank didn’t know what that
meant, but it sounded exciting.
When she poked his belly with so many greats, Frank
rolled onto the floor to escape the tickling. And your very
oldest ancestor that we know of: he was the Prince of
Pylos! Hercules fought him once. It was a hard fight!
Did we win? Frank asked.
His mother laughed, but there was sadness in her
voice. No, our ancestor lost. But it wasn’t easy for
Hercules. Imagine trying to fight a swarm of bees. That’s
how it was. Even Hercules had trouble!
The comment made no sense to Frank, then or now.
His ancestor had been a beekeeper?
Frank hadn’t thought about these stories in years, but
now they came back to him as clearly as his mother’s
face. It hurt to see her again. Frank wanted to go back to
that time. He wanted to be a little kid and curl up on her
lap.
In the rainbow image, little Frank asked where their
family was from. So many heroes! Were they from Pylos,
or Rome, or China, or Canada?
His mother smiled, tilting her head as if considering
how to answer.
Li-Jien, she said at last. Our family is from many
places, but our home is Li-Jien. Always remember, Frank:
you have a special gift. You can be anything.
The rainbow dissolved, leaving just Iris and Frank.
‘I don’t understand.’ His voice was hoarse.
‘Your mother explained it,’ Iris said. ‘You can be
anything.’
It sounded like one of those stupid things parents say to
boost your self-esteem – a worn-out slogan that could be
printed on Iris’s T-shirts, right along with The Goddess Is
Alive! and My Other Car Is a Magic Carpet! But, the way
Iris said it, it sounded like a challenge.
Frank pressed his hand against his pants pocket, where
he kept his mother’s sacrifice medal. The silver medallion
was cold as ice.
‘I can’t be anything,’ Frank insisted. ‘I’ve got zero skills.’
‘What have you tried?’ Iris asked. ‘You wanted to be an
archer. You managed that pretty well. You’ve only
scratched the surface. Your friends Hazel and Percy –
they’re both stretched between worlds: Greek and Roman,
the past and the present. But you are stretched more than
either of them. Your family is ancient – the blood of Pylos
on your mother’s side, and your father is Mars. No wonder
Juno wants you to be one of her seven heroes. She wants
you to fight the giants and Gaia. But think about this: what
do you want?’
‘I don’t have any choice,’ Frank said. ‘I’m the son of the
stupid war god. I have to go on this quest and –’
‘Have to,’ Iris said. ‘Not want to. I used to think like that.
Then I got tired of being everyone’s servant. Fetch goblets
of wine for Jupiter. Deliver letters for Juno. Send
messages back and forth across the rainbow for anyone
with a golden drachma.’
‘A golden what?’
‘Not important. But I learned to let go. I started R.O.F.L.,
and now I’m free of that baggage. You can let go, too.
Maybe you can’t escape fate. Some day that piece of
wood will burn. I foresee that you’ll be holding it when it
happens, and your life will end –’
‘Thanks,’ Frank muttered.
‘– but that just makes your life more precious! You don’t
have to be what your parents and your grandmother
expect. You don’t have to follow the war god’s orders, or
Juno’s. Do your own thing, Frank! Find a new path!’
Frank thought about that. The idea was thrilling: reject
the gods, his destiny, his dad. He didn’t want to be a war
god’s son. His mother had died in a war. Frank had lost
everything thanks to a war. Mars clearly didn’t know the
first thing about him. Frank didn’t want to be a hero.
‘Why are you telling me this?’ he asked. ‘You want me
to abandon the quest, let Camp Jupiter be destroyed? My
friends are counting on me.’
Iris spread her hands. ‘I can’t tell you what to do, Frank.
But do what you want, not what they tell you to do. Where
did conforming ever get me? I spent five millennia
serving everyone else, and I never discovered my own
identity. What’s my sacred animal? No one bothered to
give me one. Where are my temples? They never made
any. Well, fine! I’ve found peace here at the co-op. You
could stay with us, if you want. Become a ROFLcopter.’
‘A what, now?’
‘The point is you have options. If you continue this
quest … what happens when you free Thanatos? Will it be
good for your family? Your friends?’
Frank remembered what his grandmother had said: she
had an appointment with Death. Grandmother infuriated
him sometimes, but, still, she was his only living family,
the only person alive who loved him. If Thanatos stayed
chained up, Frank might not lose her. And Hazel –
somehow she had come back from the Underworld. If
Death took her again, Frank wouldn’t be able to stand it.
Not to mention Frank’s own problem: according to Iris, he
should have died when he was a baby. All that stood
between him and Death was a half-burnt stick. Would
Thanatos take him away, too?
Frank tried to imagine staying here with Iris, putting on a
R.O.F.L. shirt, selling crystals and dream catchers to
demigod travellers and lobbing gluten-free cupcake
simulations at passing monsters. Meanwhile, an undying
army would overrun Camp Jupiter.
You can be anything, his mother had said.
No, he thought. I can’t be that selfish.
‘I have to go,’ he said. ‘It’s my job.’
Iris sighed. ‘I expected as much, but I had to try. The
task ahead of you … Well, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone,
especially a nice boy like you. If you must go, at least I
can offer some advice. You’ll need help finding Thanatos.’
‘You know where the giants are hiding him?’ Frank
asked.
Iris gazed thoughtfully at the wind chimes swaying on
the ceiling. ‘No … Alaska is beyond the gods’ sphere of
control. The location is shielded from my sight. But there
is someone who would know. Seek out the seer Phineas.
He’s blind, but he can see the past, present and future. He
knows many things. He can tell you where Thanatos is
being held.’
‘Phineas …’ Frank said. ‘Wasn’t there a story about
him?’
Iris nodded reluctantly. ‘In the old days, he committed
horrible crimes. He used his gift of sight for evil. Jupiter
sent the harpies to plague him. The Argonauts –
including your ancestor, by the way –’
‘The prince of Pylos?’
Iris hesitated. ‘Yes, Frank. Though his gift, his
story … that you must discover on your own. Suffice it to
say, the Argonauts drove away the harpies in exchange
for Phineas’s help. That was aeons ago, but I understand
Phineas has returned to the mortal world. You’ll find him
in Portland, Oregon, which is on your way north. But you
must promise me one thing. If he’s still plagued by
harpies, do not kill them, no matter what Phineas
promises you. Win his help some other way. The harpies
are not evil. They’re my sisters.’
‘Your sisters?’
‘I know. I don’t look old enough to be the harpies’ sister,
but it’s true. And, Frank … there’s another problem. If
you’re determined to leave, you’ll have to clear those
basilisks off the hill.’
‘You mean the snakes?’
‘Yes,’ Iris said. ‘Basilisk means “little crown”, which is a
cute name for something that’s not very cute. I’d prefer not
to have them killed. They’re living creatures, after all. But
you won’t be able to leave until they’re gone. If your friends
try to battle them … well, I foresee see bad things
happening. Only you have the ability to kill the monsters.’
‘But how?’
She glanced down at the floor. Frank realized that she
was looking at his spear.
‘I wish there was another way,’ she said. ‘If you had
some weasels, for instance. Weasels are deadly to
basilisks.’
‘Fresh out of weasels,’ Frank admitted.
‘Then you will have to use your father’s gift. Are you
sure you wouldn’t like to live here instead? We make
excellent lactose-free rice milk.’
Frank rose. ‘How do I use the spear?’
‘You’ll have to handle that on your own. I can’t advocate
violence. While you’re doing battle, I’ll check on your
friends. I hope Fleecy found the right medicinal herbs.
The last time, we had a mix-up … Well, I don’t think those
heroes wanted to be daisies.’
The goddess stood. Her glasses flashed, and Frank
saw his own reflection in the lenses. He looked serious
and grim, nothing like the little boy he’d seen in those
rainbow images.
‘One last bit of advice, Frank,’ she said. ‘You’re destined
to die holding that piece of firewood, watching it burn. But
perhaps if you didn’t keep it yourself. Perhaps if you
trusted someone enough to hold it for you …’
Frank’s fingers curled around the tinder. ‘Are you
offering?’
Iris laughed gently. ‘Oh, dear, no. I’d lose it in this
collection. It would get mixed up with my crystals, or I’d sell
it as a driftwood paperweight by accident. No, I meant a
demigod friend. Someone close to your heart.’
Hazel, Frank thought immediately. There was no one
he trusted more. But how could he confess his secret? If
he admitted how weak he was, that his whole life
depended on a half-burnt stick … Hazel would never see
him as a hero. He’d never be her knight in armour. And
how could he expect her to take that kind of burden from
him?
He wrapped up the tinder and slipped it back into his
coat. ‘Thanks … thanks, Iris.’
She squeezed his hand. ‘Don’t lose hope, Frank.
Rainbows always stand for hope.’
She made her way towards the back of the store,
leaving Frank alone.
‘Hope,’ Frank grumbled. ‘I’d rather have a few good
weasels.’
He picked up his father’s spear and marched out to face
the basilisks.
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