The Blood of Olympus(91)

XXXIV


Leo


‘A BARGAIN.’ Leo fingers twitched. ‘Yeah. Absolutely.’

His hands went to work before his mind knew what he was doing. He started pulling things out of the pockets of his magic tool belt – copper wire, some bolts, a brass funnel. For months he’d been stashing away bits and pieces of machinery, because he never knew what he might need. And the longer he used the belt, the more intuitive it became. He’d reach in and the right items would simply appear.

‘So the thing is,’ Leo said as his hands twisted wire, ‘Zeus is already P.O.’ed at you, right? If you help us defeat Gaia, you could make it up to him.’

Apollo wrinkled his nose. ‘I suppose that’s possible. But it would be easier to smite you.’

‘What kind of ballad would that make?’ Leo’s hands worked furiously, attaching levers, fastening the metal funnel to an old gear shaft. ‘You’re the god of music, right? Would you listen to a song called “Apollo Smites a Runty Little Demigod”? I wouldn’t. But “Apollo Defeats the Earth Mother and Saves the Freaking Universe” … that sounds like a Billboard chart-topper!’

Apollo gazed into the air, as if envisioning his name on a marquee. ‘What do you want exactly? And what do I get out of it?’

‘First thing I need: advice.’ Leo strung some wires across the mouth of the funnel. ‘I want to know if a plan of mine will work.’

Leo explained what he had in mind. He’d been chewing on the idea for days, ever since Jason came back from the bottom of the sea and Leo started talking with Nike.

A primordial god has been defeated once before, Kymopoleia had told Jason. You know of whom I speak.

Leo’s conversations with Nike had helped him fine-tune the plan, but he still wanted a second opinion from another god. Because, once Leo committed himself, there would be no going back.

He half hoped Apollo would laugh and tell him to forget it.

Instead, the god nodded thoughtfully. ‘I will give you this advice for free. You might be able to defeat Gaia in the way you describe, similar to the way Ouranos was defeated aeons ago. However, any mortal close by would be utterly …’ Apollo’s voice faltered. ‘What is that you have made?’

Leo looked down at the contraption in his hands. Layers of copper wires, like multiple sets of guitar strings, crisscrossed inside the funnel. Rows of striking pins were controlled by levers on the outside of the cone, which was fixed to a square metal base with a bunch of crank handles.

‘Oh, this … ?’ Leo’s mind raced furiously. The thing looked like a music box fused with an old-fashioned phonograph, but what was it?

A bargaining chip.

Artemis had told him to make a deal with Apollo.

Leo remembered a story the kids in Cabin Eleven used to brag about: how their father, Hermes, had avoided punishment for stealing Apollo’s sacred cows. When Hermes got caught, he made a musical instrument – the first lyre – and traded it to Apollo, who immediately forgave him.

A few days ago, Piper mentioned seeing the cave on Pylos where Hermes hid those cows. That must’ve triggered Leo’s subconscious. Without even meaning to, he’d built a musical instrument, which kind of surprised him, since he knew nothing about music.

‘Um, well,’ Leo said, ‘this is quite simply the most amazing instrument ever!’

‘How does it work?’ asked the god.

Good question, Leo thought.

He turned the crank handles, hoping the thing wouldn’t explode in his face. A few clear tones rang out – metallic yet warm. Leo manipulated the levers and gears. He recognized the song that sprang forth – the same wistful melody Calypso sang for him on Ogygia about homesickness and longing. But, through the strings of the brass cone, the tune sounded even sadder, like a machine with a broken heart – the way Festus might sound if he could sing.

Leo forgot Apollo was there. He played the song all the way through. When he was done, his eyes stung. He could almost smell the fresh-baked bread from Calypso’s kitchen. He could taste the only kiss she’d ever given him.

Apollo stared in awe at the instrument. ‘I must have it. What is it called? What do you want for it?’

Leo had a sudden instinct to hide the instrument and keep it for himself. But he swallowed his melancholy. He had a task to complete.

Calypso … Calypso needed him to succeed.

‘This is the Valdezinator, of course!’ He puffed out his chest. ‘It works by, um, translating your feelings into music as you manipulate the gears. It’s really meant for me, a child of Hephaestus, to use, though. I don’t know if you could –’