Dreams wait for you in a confusing mess as if you have a backlog from your poor sleep schedule.

Suddenly you are on the top mast of a ship at sea, shivering in the cold. Waves crash against the hull, throwing your world back and forth in a dizzying pattern much worse for you all the way up here. Snow whips through the air, combining with the sea spray to form a layer of ice on every surface.

A woman shouts below, and you look down to find Kael standing at the wheel of the ship, barking orders, though the ship’s deck is completely empty. Opal stands behind her, hands tucked behind her back in attention. She shouts again and you finally make out her words. She's telling you to get down there and steer.

The mast is too slippery and you look at her helplessly.

She growls and runs across the deck to begin tying the knots herself.

The dream shatters and reforms and this time you are standing ankle-deep in the surf. A man runs toward you and falls to his knees in supplication. You ignore him and sweep your hand across the horizon.

A fissure opens there, swallowing trees and houses as it tears open the landscape. The earth shakes and you laugh even as the man sobs into the sand. He is praying to the wrong god for mercy.

You wake with a jolt, covered in sweat, breath coming in short gasps. It takes a moment to recall where you are. Then you remember and look around you with distaste. Right.

Now that you are awake, you find that the allure of your research outweighs crushing need for more sleep, though you could use another good twelve hours. You sit up.

Predawn light filters through several holes in the ceiling that you didn’t notice before washing out the sparkling marble with tones of gray. Last night this place was monumental, now it is almost unearthly.

But more importantly, well lit enough to read by.

First you want to do some investigating.

Opal sleeps curled up on the bench the next row down and Kael leans against the wall above you, eyes closed, so you move carefully as not to wake them.

Apollo’s rooms are much the same in the morning, but you examine it with fresh eyes. You ignore the king-sized bed against the wall and instead open the few drawers that are still closed. Inside are several artifacts, or at least ancient pieces from the city, but none of them are charged. They have white paper tags on them, numbering them as parts of a larger collection. You hope he didn’t start at one or else he has thousands of artifacts at his disposal.

You move some of the clothes and find several styles of Greek chiton, a tunic worn in ancient times that fastens at the shoulder. Not only did Apollo name himself after a god, he seems determined to look like one at every step.

You wonder idly whether he dyes his hair.

There is no back entrance, no escape tunnel that you can find which strikes you are overconfident to the extreme. Though if you had legions of inhumanely tough oracles to do your bidding, you would likely be confident too. It would take an army to get through to him. Or a god.

Investigation complete, you return to the blankets you set on the marble steps. Opal and Kael haven’t moved.

You take out the Enchanting book and flip open to the first few pages, hungry for more.

Then you realize that you can’t read it without the compass in your case. You sigh softly and instead think of the passage that you read.

Unlike Seers and Binders, Enchanters must have prolonged access to a ley to develop an affinity for the power there.

The book did indicate that it was possible to learn without the Ley through “ambient exposure”, but it would not be as quick as when you were actually standing in it. Apollo must have spent years in the city before his power activated. That is dedication bordering on fanatical.

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You continue to turn this idea over in your head, but another book calls your attention and you open Apollo’s notebook.

The first several pages are full of empty platitudes and self-centered rants, but you persevere, too curious about how he managed to enslave Oracles with his power. If there is a spell in the book, maybe you can learn it and reverse it.

You skim through chapters about different Artifacts that he cataloged and the powers associated with them. He has a careful system for categorization and it is surprisingly sophisticated. It details compatible Ley lines, showing how the power of the Ley must match the intention of the item. Some items will take any Ley, most are more picky.

That is why Seeking wouldn’t take the power that you tried to give it from the door, you think to yourself.

There is a section detailing the creation of new artifacts, but Apollo dismisses it as too difficult to be worth the time. Apparently any artifacts that are worth having, he already has or has made, it is the power in them that is most important.

The rest of the journal is more of the same. You will be sure to study it in depth at a later date, but your question still hasn’t been answered. What did he do to the Oracles of Athens?

You are about to close the book and admit defeat when a paragraph scrawled in the corner of a page catches your eye.

The Experiment was a success, it reads. I have created an Eater. When she succumbs, I will control the fifth horseman.

Thank you Kael, your sacrifice will make me a god.

You sit up with a jolt and find Kael watching you, though she hasn’t moved. You swallow hard, suddenly unsure of the person you have come to know.

“I want to apologize,” Kael says after you have looked at each other for a few moments.

You are caught off guard and don’t know how to respond.

“I should have been more open with you and told you from the beginning,” she continues. “I knew I was an Eater or some form of one from the moment I woke up. But how do you live with the fact that you are one of the most dangerous beings on the planet when the day before you were just a graduate student?”

“Alcohol,” you say knowingly and are rewarded with a laugh, breaking the tension.

“It doesn’t work,” she says, shaking her head. “There is this gaping void inside of my chest no matter how much I eat and drink.”

“And the solution is always right at your fingertips,” you finish with a grimace.

She nods. “I almost wish you didn’t save my life.”

“Twice now,” you say, holding up two fingers, then concede, “Though it was mostly Opal.

Kael looks over at Opal’s still form and smiles fondly. “She’s a good one.”

“How did you meet?” you ask, curious as long as Kael is in a talkative mood.

“She kept following me through the streets,” she says, her smile turning melancholy. “She wanted to see what I had on my hand. I had my ring on, of course, but I was hiding it as well as I knew how. She could still see it.”

“I knew I had to keep her out of Apollo’s hands, so I took her under my wing. That was ten years ago, she has been with me ever since.”

“She was just a teenager then,” You say in surprise.

“It hits us at different times, but I have never seen anyone so gifted so young.”

You both watch her breath rise and fall slowly for a few moments. You let the silence stretch, thinking your own thoughts on the matter.

“Promise me you’ll keep her safe,” Kael says abruptly, breaking the silence. “She trusts you, which should have been my first sign to do the same.”

“I will,” you say, dipping your head in embarrassment. A strain of music drifts in from outside the cave, saving you from an awkward pause. Opal comes awake with a start and the three of you pack quickly and creep toward the entrance of the cave.

The sun is just cresting the horizon to the east when the three of you break free into the morning air. It's a crisp morning, so far removed from the heat of the day that it’s impossible to imagine it ever being hot. You breathe deeply, savoring the moment of peace.

The music is coming from a procession walking up the main path. Players pluck lyres and play reed instruments, dressed in ancient robes. If you didn’t know better, you would think yourself transported to a simpler time. Only the sight of the modern city in the distance ruins the illusion.

“Look,” Opal says, pointing.

You follow her finger to the head of the procession where a blonde man is being carried on a litter by a group of burly men. Apollo.

Kael tenses besides you, but only watches as the procession draws closer and closer. It halts in front of another cave. The cave to Zeus Olympios unless you are mistaken. The litter carrying Apollo disappears inside and the rest of the parade departs, the music slowly fading until it is inaudible in the distance.

Kael wastes no time, vaulting the rocks in front of the cave the moment they are out of sight. Opal chases her without hesitation, leaving you alone, the only one with enough sense to see that this is clearly just bait.

“Oh hell,” you say to yourself and follow your friends into the cave, closing the jaws of the trap.