CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SIX

Mist and Bone, Part 1

“Nothing’s happening,” Farsight chirped.

Sam sighed. “Give it a moment…”

It took more than a moment and some shuffling around in the air, but, eventually, a bright white glow flared to life inside the sunstone much like a mirror that had caught the sun’s rays on its surface. This light dimmed quickly though, and Sam needed to adjust the stone’s location in the air to reclaim that inner glow.

Jackboot whistled. “Would you look at that…”

“But, how?” Thunder asked. She looked just as mystified as Jackboot did.

Dr. Hearthstone, who’d been standing behind Sam so he could get a closer look at the sunstone in Sam’s hand, explained, “I theorize that the stone’s depolarizing the barely perceptible light passing through the crystal, filtering it so we can see patterns on its surface.”

“And what does that mean exactly?” Jackboot asked.

“It means the sunstone can help us pinpoint the location of the sun even if it’s hidden by the mist,” Dr. Hearthstone answered.

“Magic,” Jackboot replied, earning him a slap on the back of his head from Farsight, who countered with, “Didn’t you just hear the doc’s explanation? It’s science, you weirdo.”

“In any case,” Sam interrupted what was sure to be another argument over magic versus science, “whose up for navigating a one-mile bridge with zero visibility and just this barely lit stone to light our way?”

Unsurprisingly to Sam, everyone raised their hands. Because that’s what heroes do. Take on the challenges no one in their right minds would sign up for.

“Yup,” Sam grinned. “We’re all crazy.”

***

While Thunder, Dr. Hearthstone, and Farsight got back inside the Argo VII, Sam was forced to hang out on its roof as he didn’t think the sunstone’s power would work inside the school bus.

Jackboot volunteered to protect Sam while he was focused on navigating their way through the mist, and Sam was grateful for the company. Because the mist, with its chilly touch and the eerie silence of its interior, brought with it a sense of foreboding that made the hair on the back of Sam’s arms stand on end.

“You think there’s going to be trouble?” Sam asked as he sat at the edge of the Argo VII’s front side.

“I’m not sure about you Olympians, but those of us raised in the Egyptian tradition were taught to always be vigilant when treading inside mist-infested zones.” Jackboot sat next to Sam and made sure his feet were dangling over the windshield of Farsight’s cockpit. “The old legends are full of tales of the horrors hiding in the mist stealing away the unsuspecting traveler crazy enough to journey across it.”

“Yeah, it’s the same with us.” Sam raised his hand high so that the sunstone could light the Argo VII’s way forward. “Beware, there be dragons here.”

“Gods, let’s hope not,” Jackboot chuckled nervously. “I’ve had my fill of dragons to last me a lifetime.”

On that ominous note, Sam signaled Farsight forward with the radio in his other hand, and the Argo VII began inching forward onto the Golden Gate Bridge at a much slower pace than Farsight was used to.

“Sam,” Jackboot called, “Is it always this lonely on the Golden Gate Bridge?”

As Jackboot observed, the Argo VII entered the bridge alone. The few cars they’d seen nearby had been unable to pass into the mist-filled zone like the school bus could.

“It feels like Lake Michigan,” Sam said.

“Yeah…this bridge reeks of a celestial zone,” Jackboot agreed. “Best be on our guard.”

Jackboot’s warning wasn’t unwarranted. Once or twice, Sam could have sworn he’d seen shadows in the mist moving in parallel to the Argo VII. Another time, when he looked over his shoulder, Sam thought he saw a glint of gold in the mist-filled sky. He heard the flapping of wings, too.

“Did you hear that?” Sam asked.

“No, but,” Jackboot glanced worriedly in Sam’s direction, “I see things in the mist, Sam… I think we’re being followed.”

“I think so too,” Sam whispered, his brow creasing.

Five whole minutes passed by in relative peace though, and Sam was beginning to think that things might just go smoothly for once. But then the sunstone’s light suddenly winked out.

Sam frowned. “What in Hades…?”

He tried rotating the stone in his hand to reclaim the light they’d lost. When that failed, Sam waved the stone in the air like he was at a rock concert—and still, the light refused to come back.

“What’s wrong?” Jackboot asked.

“I’m not sure,” Sam admitted.

“Well, figure it out quickly… The mist is creeping up to us without it,” Jackboot urged.

He was right. As soon as the sun’s light vanished, the mist around the Argo VII began to thicken so that Sam could barely see Jackboot beside him.

On a whim, he aimed the sunstone toward the back—and that’s when it reclaimed the light inside its crystal.

“Sam”—Jackboot was pointing a finger toward the rear of the bus—“why is your stone pointing us backward?”

“Hold on,” Sam said.

He aimed the sunstone toward the front, and its light immediately winked out. Then he aimed the sunstone at their backs, and it began to emit a softly twinkling glow.

“This can’t be right,” Sam frowned.

The sun had been in front of them while the Argo VII continued on its linear path, but now it seemed like the yellow orb in the sky had teleported behind them.

“It’s got to be the mist,” Jackboot guessed. “It’s probably trying to confuse us, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Sam agreed. “Hold on, I need to let the gang know.”

Sam radioed Farsight to turn the bus around, which she did begrudgingly after he explained the situation to her.

“Try not to lose the sun a second time, Sam,” she teased over the radio.

Weirdly enough, that’s exactly what happened a few minutes later. They’d taken a U-turn around the three-lane right half of the Golden Gate Bridge and were driving back the way they’d come when the sunstone’s light suddenly winked out again.

“How in Hades do you lose a sun?” Farsight growled over the radio. “It’s got a fixed position in the sky, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know!” Sam snapped. “It’s not like this thing has an instruction manual!”

“Aren’t you Apollo’s chosen one?” Farsight snapped back. “Go figure it out!”

“I know,” he sighed.

It was kind of embarrassing for a hero of the sun god to keep losing his patron’s glaringly obvious symbol in the sky, and Sam’s reddening cheeks were proof enough that Farsight’s remarks stung.

Sam whirled the sunstone back toward the way they’d come just in case the sun had teleported behind them once more. Funnily enough, it hadn’t. Because the damn thing was now to the right of them.

“Isn’t the bridge’s railing on that side?” Jackboot confirmed.

Sam’s eyes narrowed as he stared off into the mist. “Yep…”

“Well, that doesn’t make bloody sense,” Jackboot complained. “Are we supposed to drive into the ocean?”

“I…I don’t think so.” Sam spared a glance at the stone in his hand. “Have you noticed how the Golden Gate Bridge seems bigger on the inside somehow?”

“Isn’t that due to the lack of traffic?” Jackboot suggested.

“There’s that too,” Sam conceded. “But doesn’t it feel like space around us stretches out past the three lanes on this side of the bridge?”

Jackboot wiped at the goggles on his mask before he stretched his neck out for a closer inspection. “Honestly, it sort of feels like we’re not on a bridge. It’s more like were driving on—”

“A desert?” Sam prompted.

“One made of asphalt,” Jackboot agreed. “And yet…”

“…Yeah,” Sam stared up to where Jackboot was looking. “I see it too.”

Although barely visible within the mist, a red tower rose to the sky just to the right of the school bus.

Sam picked up the radio. “Ash, turn right.”

“You want us to plunge into the Pacific Ocean?” she confirmed.

“I don’t think we will,” Sam replied.

With a pronounced sigh over the radio, Farsight steered the Argo VII to the right—and neither Sam nor Jackboot were surprised to find that the school bus didn’t tip over the side of the Golden Gate Bridge.

“Keep it slow and steady, Ash,” Sam instructed. “We’ll be making a lot of turns from now on.”

His guess was spot on. After turning right, the sunstone led them left, a direction that should have crashed the Argo VII into the barricade separating the two sides of the Golden Gate Bridge. But it didn’t.

“We are most definitely no longer in the mortal realm,” Jackboot sighed.

With Farsight screaming profanities into the radio, they turned right next. Then left again thirty seconds later. Only to have to turn right once more after a few minutes.

“That girl’s got the mouth of a seasoned sailor,” Jackboot chuckled.

“You’d think a seer would be more dignified,” Sam chuckled back.

“Hey, idiots,” Farsight called from the radio, “You’re on speaker. I can hear you.”

If anything, her irritation only made the two heroes on the roof laugh harder.

After several more turns—and brief glimpses of shadows hiding in the mist—Jackboot tapped Sam in the shoulder. “Your Olympians must have a better sense of humor than the Egyptians,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Haven’t you noticed?” Jackboot raised both hands like he was holding a game controller between them. “Up, up, down, right, left, right, left—it’s almost like that old Konami code from the nineties, isn’t it?”

Sam laughed. “Holy Zeus, you’re right.”

“And that means we should take B and A next,” Jackboot guessed.

“And…that’s where you’ve stopped making sense.” Sam sighed.

“Is it?” Jackboot pointed upward.

Sam squinted. “No freaking way…”

The bridge’s red tower rose high above them. Scrawled on the peak of each of its peaks were the letters X and Y in neon red colors so that they were visible even in the heavy mist.

One of Sam’s eyebrows twitched upwards. “What is it with gods and videogames…?”

A memory of a dream he had with Apollo flashed across Sam’s mind. One about the sun god boasting about the many hours he’d wasted playing one of Hephaestus’s video games. Apparently, Apollo wasn’t the only gamer in the Olympian pantheon.

Sam glanced over his shoulder and saw the other red tower of the suspension bridge further to the back of their school bus. This one had B and A scrawled at the top in neon red colors.

“Ash”—Sam moved the radio to his lips—“turn around and then go straight.”

“This better be it, Sam…” Ash grumbled. “Or I’m sending Thunder up there to take over navigation duties.”

“This is it,” Sam confirmed.

“You sound certain,” Jackboot noticed.

“Well”—Sam quickly got to his feet—“that’s because we’ve got company—duck!”

Sam jumped out of the way as an object pierced his spot on the Argo VII’s roof. It was a spear made entirely of bone formed from a man’s spine.

ALERT! You are under attack!

“Now you tell me,” Sam complained while curling his hands into fists. “Hold on... what the hell is that?!”