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Hey, Dad, Will prayed, closing his eyes and making a valiant effort to ignore the horrible bloodcurdling shrieks of his siblings to better concentrate on his connection with Apollo. I know you’re probably really busy and stuff, and I wouldn’t be asking if there was any other way, but I need your help down here. Please. I don’t think I can do this on my own.
He really couldn’t. It was dire. Cabin Seven was in shambles.
This is Will, by the way, he added. Also, sooner would be better. ASAP, if you can. No rush though. If you’re, like, in the middle of something, it’s all good, I’ll—
Will was jolted from his vigorous backpedaling by Kayla screaming at the volume of a speeding ambulance and, in his professional opinion, probably permanently rupturing his eardrums: “WILL, BEHIND YOU!”
His eyes snapped open. His neck twisted around fast enough to crack. Sure enough, there it was, slicing through the air straight for his face.
The Enemy.
Since he was a civilized being unlike the rest of his siblings, Will did not shriek or jump sideways and smack his face on a wall, but he did beat a hasty retreat to the other side of the room, where the rest of the cabin’s inhabitants had mercifully stopped screaming and were currently huddled in a corner, staring his direction like a pack of terrified meerkats.
“Y’all, it’s going to be okay. I prayed to Dad. He’ll be here soon. Definitely.”
His siblings looked less than convinced. Apollo always answered prayers from his children, one way or another, but not always in the most timely manner. To be fair, between the sun, the medicine, the music, the poetry, the prophecy, the archery, the plagues, plus whatever other assorted domains he’d probably picked up since the last time Will had seen him, their dad had kind of a lot going on.
“It’s coming at us again,” Austin pointed out. Even his usual chillness had cracked somewhat under the chaos, and his voice was tight.
Austin was right. It’d looped around and was headed straight for their huddle. Idiotically, against all tactical convention drilled into them by the Athena cabin approximately every other week, they’d gathered in a corner. They had nowhere to run.
In a flurry of movement, Cabin Seven prepared for imminent battle.
Kayla nocked an arrow on her bow. Gracie lifted her prized violin by the neck like a bulbous, ten-thousand-dollar baseball bat. Jerry clamped a tarot card between two fingers and curled his wrist back, ready for his poor man’s Gambit impression. Yan, keeping things bafflingly old-school, put up two fists like a boxer. Austin raised his saxophone to his lips, though what he planned to do with it was unclear.
Will, who’d been carrying absolutely nothing useful when he bumbled his way into the cabin and thus this shitshow approximately two minutes ago, and who was now wondering if he’d somehow missed Camp Half-Blood’s boxing unit, crouched on the balls of his feet and got ready to dodge.
But he didn’t have to.
A column of golden flame roared into existence before the children of Apollo, so bright Will had to shield his eyes, so hot the beads of nervous sweat creeping down his face vaporized instantly.
The light and heat died down to a less-than-nuclear level. Will removed his hand from his eyes. And Apollo turned to look at him, battle armor glowing like molten glass, bow in hand, eyes literally shining with worry.
“I got your prayer. What’s going on?”
Stunned silence reigned for about two seconds. Then all of Will’s siblings lowered their weapons (or fists) and started talking at once.
“Hi, Dad—”
“There was this huge—”
“—kind of a long story, but—”
“—just flew right at us, like a bat out of Tartarus—”
“One at a time, guys! Dad can’t hear—”
“—almost got it with one of my arrows except Austin was in the way—”
“You almost shot me, you mean—”
Apollo raised a palm. The cacophony died.
“Will,” his dad said, “are any of you in any danger right now?”
Will met Apollo’s searching gaze for a moment, then frantically cast his eyes around the rest of the cabin. The enemy, it’d been right in front of them when Apollo appeared—ah. It had gone the way of Will’s sweat. It’d been vaporized.
He sagged with relief. “Not anymore, Dad. You killed it when you got here, with the flames and everything.”
Apollo blinked. “Wait, what did I kill?” His eyes widened. “Oh, gods, don’t even tell me. I can’t have another incineration incident on my record. Chiron will have me thrown into Tartarus this time for sure!”
Will hurried to clarify. “No, Dad, you killed the thing that was putting us in danger.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good.” Apollo slung his bow over his shoulder, and the glow of his armor started to cool. “So, what was the thing, exactly?”
“Uh,” said Will. “Oh, you know. Just like, a monster.”
“Yeah,” said Kayla. “Like a really scary monster.”
“Terrifying,” Jerry put in.
“Actually,” Yan said, giving all of them a side-eye, “it was a—”
“Hard to identify,” Will said loudly. “Never seen anything like it. I guess now we’ll never know.”
Apollo stared at him. “I….see….”
“Yep,” Will said. “Thanks, Dad. You’re the best.” He gave Apollo a big thumbs up, and immediately cringed. Oh, gods, he was such a freak. A thumbs up? What kind of weirdo ended a sentence like that to their immortal godly father with a thumbs up?
His dad gave him an uncomfortably piercing look. Will remembered suddenly that one of Apollo’s random assortment of domains was, in fact, truth.
“William Andrew Solace, is there something you’re not telling me?”
Uh. Possibly.
“It was a wasp,” said the traitor formerly known as Will’s brother Austin.
Apollo’s voice cut through the new cacophony that had arisen instantly among Will’s siblings. “A wasp? Will, you called me here over a wasp?”
“I’m sorry!” Will cried. The room fell utterly silent around him. “I panicked, okay! I know, I know, I’m head counselor, I’m supposed to be the leader, I’m supposed to take charge and take care of everyone, but I failed, and I wasted your time, and you were probably doing something really important, and now you’re—” Will stopped, yanked abruptly from his guilt spiral by the weird noise Apollo was making. “Um, Dad?”
“Oh, Will.” Apollo wiped something from his eye. Was he crying? Will was the worst son ever. He should go get Chiron to throw him into Tartarus right now immediately. “I’m not mad,” Apollo continued, “or disappointed, for that matter. In fact, this is the funniest thing that’s happened to me in weeks. But even if it wasn’t, you never have to apologize for calling me, about anything. You’re my children; I’m always happy to hear from you, and to help with anything you need. Even if the ‘anything’ is a wasp that needs incineration. Although, perhaps next time you could be a bit more specific in your prayer. Or possibly try opening a window first.”
“Definitely,” Will said quickly. “Of course. Thank you, Dad. Seriously.” His siblings mumbled a chorus of similar sentiments, without Will even having to prompt them.
“It was my pleasure.” Apollo smiled, blindingly, as usual. “Also, by the way, needing help doesn’t make you a failure. Was I a failure when I needed your help during my time as a mortal?” He paused. “Actually, on second thought, don’t answer that. Bad example. But I’m sure you understand what I mean.”
“I think I get it,” Will reassured him. “I’ll work on it.”
“Good,” Apollo said, decisively. “Now, I’d love to stay and chat, but unfortunately, someone has to go stop a new outbreak of the Black Death in Oregon. Yes, that Black Death. Those pesky nosoi are angling for a sequel. Well, not if I have anything to say about it.” He stared darkly into the middle distance for a second. “Anyway, I’ll see you all soon! Call me.”
He winked at Will, snapped his fingers, and vanished in a shower of gold glitter.
Will took a long, deep breath and let it out. He turned his head left and right to smile at his siblings, and, extremely belatedly, noticed the object hanging on a hook from the wall near Gracie’s head.
Oh, for gods’ sakes.
“Next time,” Will said calmly, “we use the flyswatter.”