Acanthus

Acanthus sat, staring at the decadent trays of nearly every food imaginable. She picked up a goblet to occupy her hands, and caught herself admiring her blue and white nails. Erato had painted them so perfectly that she swore they looked like clouds rolling along the tips of her fingers. She had never painted her nails before. She had also worn a dress like this before. And her hair— The thought didn’t even finish. The noise of the room became muted. Acanthus had the vague sensation that she was in another place, watching another person. The woman swirling her goblet and observing the cro

The feast itself was a bright whirl of sights and sounds. All the gods were present, and many had players by their side. Hephaestus had two aspiring blacksmiths by his side. He was chatting idly with Aphrodite, who had an enthralled artisan in tow. The size of the venue was breathtaking. As Apollo escorted her to the head of the feasting table along with the other players, she lost count of the number of people. Hundreds, at the very least. As Apollo gently deposited her in a chair at his table, she craned her neck to see if Elpis was there. No such luck. “If you’ll wait here, w

Apollo merely shifted his inscrutable gaze back forward. “I do apologize. When I scale back my presence, it tends to have an overly calming effect. One of the men I escorted to the feast actually fell asleep halfway to the banquet hall.” “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” “Not at all. He left a smear of drool on my tux from where his head connected with my shoulder before it hit the ground.” She eyed his shoulder suspiciously. Apollo’s mouth twisted up in a half-grin. “I do clean my formal wear. You can ask Hermes about the drool if you don’t believe me.” “I will.

I don’t remember the hallway being this long on the way in. The pair had walked in silence for some time. Apollo had kept his gaze forward the entire time, and Acanthus nervously shot him looks every few meters. She was about to try and start a conversation when he saved her. “So, how did you like your time with the muses? They can be a little overbearing at times.” “Not at all. I enjoyed my time with them very much.” Apollo remained looking forward. “That is good to hear.” The hand draped over Apollo felt like it was lazing in the perfect sunbeam. Her mind began to gently wand

Apollo offered his hand out to her. Acanthus froze with uncertainty. “Thank you, but I can walk upright.” Upright? Who talks like that? She heard Thalia s[censored] from the back of the room. Apollo chuckled as well. “I have no doubt, little hyacinth. Even still, allow me the honor.” Slowly, she reached out. With a practiced motion, Apollo eased his hand up to his chest, leading hers to be draped on his arm. She heard Thalia from the room once more. “So red, she looks sunburned!” Half the muses shushed her while the other half tittered at the joke. Acanthus did feel so red that she might have

I’m not allowed to be jealous of a computer program. I’m NOT allowed to be jealous of a computer program. Apollo, despite now being human height, seemed more lordly than ever. He wore a shining golden tuxedo and thick, velvet purple tie. Acanthus would have refused to believe such a thing could be anything but garish until she saw him wearing it. If anything, the tuxedo was muted when pitted against his long blonde hair and golden eyes. Those eyes currently burned holes into Acanthus. She covered her shoulders. “Is everything alright?” Acanthus averted her gaze. She fought to control

“... And after the third letter, dad thought the best thing to do would be to just ignore any more threats. So that’s how my entire family was banned from the entire chain of music stores.” “Your brother,” Thalia wiped tears as she talked, “is my hero. I didn’t even know flutes could do that.” “I wish I didn’t know flutes could do that,” said Euterpe solemnly. Terpsichore stood suddenly. “Apollo will be here soon! And we haven’t even finished!” Color drained from Acanthus’s face. “Wait, why is he coming here? I thought I was meeting him at the banquet.” Terpichore clucked. “You’

As if on cue, all nine muses moved around to the front of Acanthus and settled in. They then looked at her, expecting a speech. She began to feel nervous. “I mean, he’s like any other little brother. He’s stupid, but I love him.” “So your little brother is Euterpe?” Thalia piped up. The muses giggled—except for Euterpe. Acanthus laughed as well. “I wish. He isn’t the muse of flutes.” She paused. “Actually, he’s not allowed near them anymore.” The Euterpe leaned in with a look equal parts intrigued and concerned. “Oh?” “It was my first day of high school, and mom and dad took me

From time to time, they would playfully drag her into one side of their sisterly disputes, and just as quickly move onto more banter. They argued like siblings, and listening to them made her miss Koji. He would have been eager to disagree with any side Acanthus had just taken on principle. He once ate a plate full of mushrooms just to prove a point to Acanthus. He hated mushrooms. I miss that little idiot. Melpomene stopped teasing the messy bun long enough to look over Acanthus’ shoulder. “I’m sensing some negative emotion.” Calliope shot her a look. “Mel, you say that all the time. Jus

Getting prepared for the party was not the ordeal she had expected. All nine muses fussed over her—attention she normally would have wilted under, but they seemed content to talk amongst themselves for the most part. They consulted her on any decisions made to dress her up, but Acanthus found the direct questions easy to answer. “What about this dress? I think it suits you so well.” The dress in question made Acanthus blush. It was a gorgeous floor-length strapless gown the color of the afternoon sky. The sleeves were emblazoned with floral motifs, and the silver accessories gleamed

“It is because as a performer, there will be times you are called to say things you do not believe to people that you do not like.” Apollo knelt down and met her gaze. “You are called to sing happy thoughts when you are sad. You must play mournful tunes when you do not have a care in the world. Whether or not your feelings in that moment are real, you must believe in them. It is the only way your performance will truly carry its meaning to those who hear.” Apollo smiled, and his face shone like the sun emerging from behind the clouds. “You have come so far in such a short time. Given time

He stood up, and walked over to a chest in the corner of his room. As he rifled through its contents, he continued speaking. “I asked you for the perfect song because a performer must understand there is no perfect song. There is only what the audience needs. Sometimes, you must provide a song of healing; other times, your songs must inflict pain, or inspire prosperity. But you must always sing as though that song is the perfect song.” He withdrew a small, wooden metronome from the chest, and returned to Acanthus. She was now aware of how tall Apollo was—easily twice her height. The metro

Then she thought of dad. “Back straight, fingers bent, practice-makes-perfect” dad. I think he would have left the show already. If I were lucky, he’d speak to me the next day. In an unplanned moment of comedy, Acanthus’ lute popped two strings at a half-cadence, ending the tune on a sudden question mark. Thalia, quick on the cue, ended her verse about Zeus’ lascivious habits mid-syllable. The room stood in utter silence. The performers became the audience as they watched Apollo for any indication of success. He giggled. The feeling of air came back into the room as all nine mus

For some reason, Acanthus imagined the lemgrass as she played. Down to earth, slightly sweet—the kind of thing that would cheer anybody up. This is not like me at all. But Landon says performance is about the audience, and this is what Apollo needs, whether he knows it or not. Apollo, to his credit, was not looking at the goblet anymore. His eyes shifted from Acanthus to Thalia, and back to Acanthus. His face remained impassive. She wondered what her family would think of if they saw her like this: mashing horrible chords on a lute in the middle of Olympus while a Muse pantomimed som

The song doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be perfect for him—what he needs. And what he needs is something to cheer him up. “Right on, rockergirl. It’s not my usual jam, but everyone’s got different tastes. The trick is feeling out your audience on the fly. That’s the sign of a great performer.” She had wondered what to do about lyrics. She was a thoughtful person, but a poor lyrical improviser. In the end, she settled on an unorthodox solution. “Before I begin… Thalia?” The muse of comedy jumped. “Would you do me the honor of being ridiculous?” Her eyes gleamed w

Once more in Apollo’s chambers, Acanthus stood ready, lute in hand. The muses were arrayed behind her in anticipation. Apollo sat on his couch like a statue. I don’t think he’s moved since I left. The same goblet swirled in his hands. “Did you find the perfect song? Better than that saccharine trash you were playing before, I hope.” She began to tune her strings. Or rather, she began to detune them. Just a little bit. Just enough to be silly. “Oh glorious Apollo, whose visage is marred by the wolves of apathy,” she began. “I have the perfect song for you.” She was trembling. She

The two swam for another hour. Acanthus even went back up and jumped into the quarry one more time. She also explored the bottom of the pool a little longer. Finding some interesting seaweed, she tried pulling a few strands. It came up much easier than the silt. Two massive bundles ripped from the ground, and she placed them in her inventory. Back at the top of the quarry, the two sat on the shoddy platforms, legs dangling. “Elpis, thanks.” The bodyguard smiled and beat her chest. “Hey, you trusted me back there! I wasn’t going to let any harm come to you. You needed a little push, y

With a full-bodied laugh, Elpis brought her arms back and launched Acanthus into the hole. Acanthus screamed at the top of her lungs. From the top of the quarry, Elpis’s words echoed down as she fell: tuck your arms and legs! Instinctively, Acanthus followed her directions. Exhale through your nose as you hit the water. Give yourself a moment, then orient yourself and swim for the surface. She fought the urge to gasp as she hit the water. It was ice cold. Her eyes snapped open, and the beauty of the quarry hit her fully. The light from above sparkled in the water below. Scores of fish and

“This is a hostage situation! Unfair! Let me go!” But Elpis showed no signs of tiring. She easily held Acanthus high above her head. “Listen, girl. I’m giving you a fair chance. Say the words, and I’ll walk you back over to the rim. We can both move on, and only one of us gets wet from the quarry.” “This is cruel, and I will not give in!” “You’re not telling me no.” “I shouldn’t have to! You are my bodyguard, so guard me!” Elpis eyed the distance down. “It’s completely safe. I jump in here every week. Plenty of satyrs do.” “Well I’m not a satyr! So let me go!”

Acanthus realized that the hole was not as deep as she initially thought. It about ten meters to the water—about an Olympic high-dive. With the water there was certainly no chance of fall damage. Not that the notion helped. Her stomach flipped as she had the sensation of being lifted high into the air. Elpis had picked her up like a sack of rice and was holding her aloft. Acanthus shrieked. “Elpis, not funny! Put me down! ELPIS!” Her mischievous grin had morphed into full-on chicanery. “You said you might leap! I’m just giving you a preview!” Acanthus wriggled, trying to free h

“Aren’t you supposed to be guarding me?!? Don’t get yourself killed!!” Acanthus yelled from the comfort of the ridge above. She didn’t even want to approach the rim. “Smooth your feathers, worry bird! I’ll be right up!!” After a few minutes, Acanthus heard the distant sound of groaning wood. It grew louder as Elpis climbed the platforms out of the hole. “That never gets old.” “That’s interesting, because I think it would take years off my life.” Elpis wrung the water out of her hair and looked at Acanthus mischievously. “You wouldn’t know until you tried. Go on. I bet you w

Acanthus sifted through the rocks to try and find the lapis. She had trouble distinguishing them even still; she hadn't developed a knack for picking them out yet. A horrible groan filled her ears, and her eyes darted around for the source. The quarry structures. She had gotten close enough that the faint creaks had turned into terrifying noises. Acanthus rolled over to her backside and began scooting away. She was convinced that even being close would cause the thin wooden platforms to disintegrate. Elpis was determined to prove her wrong. Whooping, she sprinted down to the quarry,

When they cleared the ridge and laid eyes on the quarry, Acanthus’ knees nearly gave out. She grabbed onto Elpis. “Oh c’mon! It’s really not that bad!” But it was. When Acanthus heard “the quarry,” she expected a small, active surface mine, just a few meters deep. Instead, she gazed into a deep pit; so deep, she swore there was no bottom. “This isn’t a quarry.” Elpis shrugged. “It used to be. But they ran out of marble, and flooded the bottom with water. Look, you can see the structures all around the pit.” Sure enough, rickety wooden structures spiraled from the bottom of the q

This stuff is good. Weirdly good. She worked at another patch of the lemgrass. Something about the lemgrass made it easy to gather, and she found herself with two more large handfuls. Elpis had gathered all she needed, and was devouring a patch by the roots. Acanthus walked over and sat on a nearby rock, waiting for Elpis to finish. Smacking her lips, Elpis laid down on a warm rock, hands behind her head. She looked up to Acanthus. “I gotta say, lemgrass isn’t always the answer. But when I’m in the mood, nothing else hits the spot.” Laughing, Acanthus said, “I wonder if we

“... and anyways, that’s why they don’t let Poseidon near the horses anymore. Oh, we’re here!” Elpis ran gleefully into the rocky crags. Boulders ten times her size jutted out of the sloped hills, and pockets of starchy, yellow grass formed in the spaces between the rocks. “Lemgrass!” Elpis yelled. She ripped a handful out of the ground and put it directly into her mouth. As she chewed contentedly, all of her goat-like features came to the fore. Acanthus smiled at the visualization. “Ith’ ‘thomthin phthunny?” Elpis asked, mouthful of grass. Acanthus shook her head. “No. I’m just