Hercules snarled. “Don’t get me started with the movies. Gods of Olympus, they never get anything right. Have you seen one movie about me where I look like me?”
Piper had to admit he had a point. “I’m surprised you’re so young.”
“Ha! Being immortal helps. But, yes, I wasn’t so old when I died. Not by modern standards. I did a lot during my years as a hero…too much, really.” His eyes drifted to Jason. “Son of Zeus, eh?”
“Jupiter,” Jason said.
“Not much difference,” Hercules grumbled. “Dad’s annoying in either form. Me? I was called Heracles. Then the Romans came along and named me Hercules. I didn’t really change that much, though lately just thinking about it gives me splitting headaches…”
The left side of his face twitched. His robes shimmered, momentarily turning white, then back to purple.
“At any rate,” Hercules said, “if you’re Jupiter’s son, you might understand. It’s a lot of pressure. Enough is never enough. Eventually it can make a guy snap.”
He turned to Piper. She felt like a thousand ants were crawling up her back. There was a mixture of sadness and darkness in his eyes that seemed not quite sane, and definitely not safe.
“As for you, my dear,” Hercules said, “be careful. Sons of Zeus can be…well, never mind.”
Piper wasn’t sure what that meant. Suddenly she wanted to get as far from this god as possible, but she tried to maintain a calm, polite expression.
“So, Lord Hercules,” she said, “we’re on a quest. We’d like permission to pass into the Mediterranean.”
Hercules shrugged. “That’s why I’m here. After I died, Dad made me the doorkeeper of Olympus. I said, Great! Palace duty! Party all the time! What he didn’t mention is that I’d be guarding the doors to the ancient lands, stuck on this island for the rest of eternity. Lots of fun.”
He pointed at the pillars rising from the surf. “Stupid columns. Some people claim I created the whole Strait of Gibraltar by shoving mountains apart. Some people say the mountains are the pillars. What a bunch of Augean manure. The pillars are pillars.”
“Right,” Piper said. “Naturally. So…can we pass?”
The god scratched his fashionable beard. “Well, I have to give you the standard warning about how dangerous the ancient lands are. Not just any demigod can survive the Mare Nostrum. Because of that, I have to give you a quest to complete. Prove your worth, blah, blah, blah. Honestly, I don’t make a big deal of it. Usually I give demigods something simple like a shopping trip, singing a funny song, that sort of thing. After all those labors I had to complete for my evil cousin Eurystheus, well…I don’t want to be that guy, you know?”
“Appreciate it,” Jason said.
“Hey, no problem.” Hercules sounded relaxed and easygoing, but he still made Piper nervous. That dark glint in his eyes reminded her of charcoal soaked in kerosene, ready to go up at a moment’s notice.
“So anyway,” Hercules said, “what’s your quest?”
“Giants,” Jason said. “We’re off to Greece to stop them from awakening Gaea.”
“Giants,” Hercules muttered. “I hate those guys. Back when I was a demigod hero…ah, but never mind. So which god put you up to this—Dad? Athena? Maybe Aphrodite?” He raised an eyebrow at Piper. “As pretty as you are, I’m guessing that’s your mom.”
Piper should’ve been thinking faster, but Hercules had unsettled her. Too late, she realized the conversation had become a minefield.
“Hera sent us,” Jason said. “She brought us together to—”
“Hera.” Suddenly Hercules’s expression was like the cliffs of Gibraltar—a solid, unforgiving sheet of stone.
“We hate her too,” Piper said quickly. Gods, why hadn’t it occurred to her? Hera had been Hercules’s mortal enemy. “We didn’t want to help her. She didn’t give us much choice, but—”
“But here you are,” Hercules said, all friendliness gone. “Sorry, you two. I don’t care how worthy your quest is. I don’t do anything that Hera wants. Ever.”
Jason looked mystified. “But I thought you made up with her when you became a god.”
“Like I said,” Hercules grumbled, “don’t believe everything you hear. If you want to pass into the Mediterranean, I’m afraid I’ve got to give you an extra-hard quest.”
“But we’re like brothers,” Jason protested. “Hera’s messed with my life, too. I understand—”
“You understand nothing,” Hercules said coldly. “My first family: dead. My life wasted on ridiculous quests. My second wife dead, after being tricked into poisoning me and leaving me to a painful demise. And my compensation? I got to become a minor god. Immortal, so I can never forget my pain. Stuck here as a gatekeeper, a doorman, a…a butler for the Olympians. No, you don’t understand. The only god who understands me even a little bit is Dionysus. And at least he invented something useful. I have nothing to show except bad film adaptations of my life.”
Piper turned on the charmspeak. “That’s horribly sad, Lord Hercules. But please go easy on us. We’re not bad people.”
She thought she’d succeeded. Hercules hesitated. Then his jaw tightened, and he shook his head. “On the opposite side of this island, over those hills, you’ll find a river. In the middle of that river lives the old god Achelous.”
Hercules waited, as if this information should send them running in terror.
“And… ?” Jason asked.
“And,” Hercules said, “I want you to break off his other horn and bring it to me.”