Chapter 22 Playing Ketch-Up
FIFI WHIRLS ON ME. “SHE did not just leave in the middle of our conversation!”
“Pretty sure she did,” I answer as I look back down at my labors, trying to decipher what they mean.
“That is so uncool.” She shakes her head so hard that the beads at the end of her braids rattle. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll totally share my gumballs with you.”
“Um, that’s really sweet, but I don’t think it works that way. Won’t your gumballs just call Frankie and not Calliope?”
“Yes, and I don’t see the problem with that. I’ll share his advice with you too. Anything’s got to be better than that woman,” she huffs. “Are we even sure she’s really a muse?”
“She’s a muse,” I answer absently, my mind on my labors, which I am dying to read. “Some even say she’s the most important muse.”
“If by important, you mean jerkish, sure.” Fifi narrows her eyes as she studies me. “I have to say, I’m a little surprised at how calmly you’re taking all this.”
“That’s because you didn’t see my total and complete meltdown before you came in and saved the day,” I snort. “Thank you for helping us figure out that she really did have my labors.”
Fifi gives a not-so-fake shudder. “I’m not exactly sure that ketchup-and-mustard monstrosity deserves the honor of being called your labors. But I’m glad I was a little bit of help anyway.”
“You were a lot of help.” In a spontaneous display of affection that shocks me way more than it does her, I throw my arms around her shoulders and give her a quick hug.
Or what’s supposed to be a quick hug, considering she grabs on and squeezes, long and hard, in return.
“That’s what friends are for.” As soon as I move away, she’s back to peering down at my paper. “Well, that and helping you decipher this mess.”
It’s my turn to shudder as I process what’s on my list. “Are your labors anything like this?”
She shoots me a look. “Um, no. If they were, I would have had Frankie take them right back out of here.”
“I don’t mean the ketchup stains. I mean the actual labors themselves. There’s something weird about them, isn’t there?”
“That’s one way to put it.” She crosses to her bed and grabs the gilded frame off the wall. “Here. Look for yourself.”
She hands me the frame, and I put it down on my bed, then put the crumpled list of my labors right next to it.
Penelope’s Labors
Bear an unbearable weight
Solve a riddle
Drink from the river without a name
Find your way through a maze
Remember that which has been forgotten
Weather a lightning storm
Speak a hidden truth
Relinquish that which you believe to be yours
Create a pattern from chaos
Forge an unbreakable bond
Retrace important steps
Rewrite that which must be rewritten
Fifi’s Labors
Find the sacred spirit in Lake Veronise
Perform the ancient dance of Terpsichore
Calm a celestial spirit and write your name in the stars
Find truth in the Trickster’s Dark Mask
Face down the Siren’s Echo
Tame and ride a wild Pegasus
Blossom in the Garden of Second Chances
Find your destiny on the Carousel of Enchantment
Mend the Tapestry of Affection
Fill the Cup of Celebration
Unmask the Midnight Masquerade
Find the notes to the Unheard Melody
I look back and forth between her labors and mine, trying to figure out why they’re so different. Fifi’s are super specific and mine…mine seem like the no-explanation, could-mean-anything version.
For example, “Solve a riddle” could mean anything. Do I just get one off the internet and be done with it in ten minutes? Same with the lightning-storm labor. We get major storms up here all the time in the fall—do I just have to wait for one to start and go sit in the middle of it?
I can’t see how that would change me—I’ve been caught alone in a bunch of storms in my life. What would make this one that much different? And if it is different, then why doesn’t my list tell me so, like Fifi’s does?
Because if it’s not, if my labors really are as simple as they sound, then I somehow doubt they’ll be enough to impress Athena and convince her to claim me for her hall.
Then again, if they are more complicated and I’m just missing it, then I’m in even worse trouble.
Because I have absolutely no idea where to start.
“Your labors don’t make any sense,” Fifi says, even as she continues looking back and forth between the two lists like she’s trying to memorize them. Or like she’s trying to get my list to spontaneously combust. Which, not going to lie, I’m kind of on board for.
“They sound way too easy, right?” I ask. I think about how much I have messed up today. “Maybe this is all the gods think I’m capable of.”
“No, that’s not it,” Fifi says. She sounds much more confident than I feel. “These are just weird. They don’t look like any I’ve ever seen before.”
“To be fair, exactly how many have you seen before?” I know I’ve only ever seen hers and mine.
“I don’t know. A dozen, maybe? Levi’s, Charlie’s, their friends’.”
“So, what should I do? Try to do one of the labors and see if I can cross it off?” It feels strange to ask for advice when I’m the one who usually does the research and has the answers before any weird situations come up, but I’m really confused here.
“We should probably talk to someone who knows more about this than a couple of first years,” Fifi answers.
“But who?” I think about my earlier encounter with Dr. Dione, who was absolutely no help. And Dr. Themis is probably too busy to listen to every first year who wants to whine about something that hasn’t gone her way.
“What about Frankie?” She reaches for the sack of gumballs. “I’ll bet he has some ideas.”
“No way! I don’t want you to waste one of them on me.”
“Seriously? I have seventy-five of them. Just how much trouble do you think I’m going to get in this year?”
Considering the morning I’ve had, I’m afraid to answer. “Also, maybe we shouldn’t complain to him about one of the Big Nine. I don’t want to get him mad at you or get him in trouble.”
“I don’t think he’d get mad. I mean, look at that list.” She blows out her breath in a rush. “But I get what you mean about putting him in a position to go against Calliope. I definitely don’t want to do anything to get him yelled at on his first day on the job.”
“Yeah, that,” I sigh.
I have to admit, I didn’t think this day could get worse.
But I obviously underestimated just how bad I am at this Anaximander’s thing.
For the first time since I got here, I think seriously about giving up and going home.
It would be humiliating, but not as humiliating as staying and continually messing up. Or worse, failing my labors.
Instead of convincing Athena to give me a chance, I’ll just be proving to her that she was right to not choose me. And how am I supposed to explain that to my mother?
Before either of us can come up with another idea, the intercom in the wall crackles to life.
“Hello, my darlings!” Dr. Dione’s smooth, warm voice comes through loud and clear. “Just a reminder that the welcome party begins in five minutes. Can’t wait to see all of you there.”
Ugh. I so don’t want to go. As far as I’m concerned, this party is just one more chance for me to mess things up—this time in front of people. No, thank you.
“I think I’m going to—” I start, but Fifi grabs my arms as her eyes go wide.
“I’ve got it! We need to talk to Levi about this.”
“You think your brother will know what to do?” I don’t mean to sound skeptical, but it’s not like I’m rushing to Paris with this mess. Partly because I know he’ll tell Mom and Dad, but mostly because he’s so not the problem-solving type.
“I know, brothers are the worst. But this is his sixth year here, and he’s hall manager. He’s got to know some things we don’t.”
I nod, because she’s right. I forgot Dr. Dione told us to go to him and Elysia if we have questions. “So what do we do? Should you text him? Or should I just go knock on his door?”
“Are you kidding me? He’s probably already on the roof. That boy’s never met a party he didn’t like.” She takes a quick pic of my labors, then grabs a ton of bracelets off her nightstand and shoves them on her arms.
One more quick look in the mirror to fiddle with the ruffles on her blouse and then she’s telling me, “Let’s go. If we’re lucky, we’ll catch him in between dances.”
My stomach sinks. But since I don’t exactly have a lot of choices here, I do the only thing I can do. I put on the best smile I can manage and follow Fifi out the door. Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll make it through the entire party without falling off the roof.
Then again, the night is still young. Plenty of time for Anaximander—and the Fates—to remind me just how unlucky I am today.