CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

A Visit to the Healing Gardens, Part 2

By the time he was done telling her about last night’s harrowing escapade, Thunder was leaning forward, her face alight with excitement.

“Electric,” she breathed. “You survived your first hero team-up and your first super-villain, and your first immortal encounter…quite the busy night for you, Sam.”

“It wasn’t my first team-up,” Sam reminded her.

She smiled warmly at him. “You’re right…”

Thunder leaned back and relaxed her shoulders. There was also a wistful expression on her face.

“I wish I’d been there… I’d have socked that giant shadow good with a well-placed lightning bolt into its face,” she declared.

Thunder glanced sideways at Sam, and he could clearly see the judgment in her gaze.

“And you actually lost the Bow of Heracles…” It wasn’t much of a reprimand though as her tone was still quite playful. “I remember you being a bit of a klutz, Sam, but fumbling the ball at the end zone is just lame…”

Sam’s shoulders slumped when he sighed. “I know…”

Thunder may have just been teasing him, but Sam knew there was truth in her words. And even though the master hadn’t chewed him out for it and the system rewarded him with a ‘mission complete’ notification, Sam knew he’d failed in the final stretch of last night’s adventure.

“I had one job… Keep the bow out of the enemy’s hands, and instead, I lost it in the sludge of the city sewers,” Sam admitted, not in a self-deprecating kind of way like his old self might have done, but more of an introspective admittance of his faults. It was another sign that Sam was changing and becoming more confident than he’d ever been before. “If by some miracle the Trickster didn’t recover it—”

“—Then the bow’s most likely lost somewhere at the bottom of the Hudson or the East River,” Thunder deduced for him.

She patted him gingerly on the shoulder.

“Nothing you can do about the bow… It’ll probably turn up again, eventually. Divine relics always do,” she explained. “What matters now is what you do after you make a mess.”

Thunder’s words caused Sam’s mind to drift back to that exact moment after the bow was lost.

Crow-Man and Sam had escaped the explosion that rocked the sewer below the Met through the hole in the gallery’s roof. As for the gallery itself, well, the blast from below was basically the last straw, and most of what remained of its foundations fell into the sewer.

“Come on.” Crow-Man urged as he’d half-carried Sam up to the roof which conveniently helped them avoid the first-responders who’d finally arrived outside the Met’s Fifth Avenue entrance. “This way to the exit.”

Together, they’d traversed the Met’s rooftop garden and made their way to the rear of the museum so they could get lost in the foliage of Central Park and far away from the sirens now blaring along Fifth Avenue.

During the escape, Sam had been drawn to the Lane of the Gods, a section deep within the center of the park that was wholly dedicated to the many pantheons that were venerated in the US. Altars devoted to the Norse, Egyptian, Mesopotamian, Aztec, and Hindu gods lined up in neat rows along both sides of the many divergent paths circling a round rotunda apportioned to the primary patrons of New York City.

Sam had led the way to the rotunda which was known to all as the Olympic Circle, the hallowed ground where the grand altars to the twelve Olympians and other minor gods of the Greek pantheon stood.

For reasons that first eluded him, Sam had stopped in front of a ten-foot marble altar positioned directly underneath the largest olive tree he’d ever seen. The lone sculpture at the top of the altar was that of a silver owl standing behind a round, golden shield.

“Guess I know whose face I broke,” Sam finally realized.

He’d pulled out a vial of frankincense from the first-aid kit on his belt and spilled its contents onto the bronze oil lamp near the base of the altar.

After lighting the lamp’s wick, Sam had whispered a prayer to the goddess who’d been lenient enough not to curse him for spoiling one of her effigies.

“Athena, goddess of wisdom and courage, thanks for cutting me some slack tonight,” Sam whispered as he’d dropped a few drachmas next to the oil lamp. “And, um, I could do with a bit of wisdom in future missions…appreciate it.”

Crow-Man had slipped away to visit the Norse lane of altars while Sam was busy placating Athena, and he’d come back just as Sam finished with his offering.

“I have connections with the police department, so I’ll let them know about what happened so you’ll be in the clear,” Crow-Man had suggested.

“Could you leave me out of your report?” Sam had asked.

He didn’t feel he was ready for people to know of his new growth. If the Wardens ever found out, then things would get complicated really fast for him. Luckily, Sam didn’t need to explain any of this as Crow-Man was quick to agree with his request. Perhaps the veteran hero knew Sam was hiding something, but he hadn’t pushed Sam about it. At least not yet.

“So…what now?” Sam had asked. “Is there a trail we can follow?”

“I usually work alone,” Crow-Man had answered, although he’d also added, “Only… I can’t shake the feeling that you’ve got a role to play in whatever’s happening… the Trickster seemed fixated on you too.”

Crow-Man had agreed to let Sam know once he figured out what the next steps were. So they’d exchanged contact details before splitting up. Then, once Sam had exited Central Park on the opposite side of where the Met stood, a new notification popped up for him.

CONGRATULATIONS! You’ve completed the mission [OUT OF THE FRYING PAN AND INTO THE FIRE!] REWARDS: Golden Drachmas x 50, Attribute Points x 3, Increased favor with a hero serving the Norse pantheon. ALERT! Continued cooperation with the hero [Crow-Man] may open the pathway to the start of a new bond.

When Sam had asked the master why he was being rewarded even after he’d lost the bow, the master had replied with, the bow wasn’t the mission, kid. Your mission was to uncover evidence that the Astoria apartment fire and the Met explosion were connected. You did, and you even helped to fight off the villain who’d caused it. So take the win, lame-brain!

“But the bow—”

—isn’t your problem anymore, the master cut in. Just be thankful you survived tonight and let that experience help you grow… speaking of…

Another notification had popped up.

You have leveled up!

Sam was now level fourteen, and his main power had broken through to delta-level. By anyone else’s standards, last night ended well enough, but Sam wasn’t satisfied at all. It was apparent in the deep frown on his face.

“Hey, lame-brain,” Thunder called, causing Sam’s mind to drift back into the here and now. “I was asking you what you were going to do next?”

“Next,” Sam repeated as if he were still in a daze. “I… I kind of need your advice on that.”

Thunder raised an eyebrow at Sam. “Alright, I’m listening…”

“You’ve been a hero longer than I have, and you’re at the top of the charts… so I’m thinking you know people that could shed some light on this whole caper,” Sam explained.

Thunder’s eyebrow rose just a little more. “Caper?”

“You know what I mean,” Sam said while crossing his arms over his chest. “I need your help to work this case…”

“Don’t you already have a helper for this sort of thing?” Thunder reminded him.

Sam shook his head. “Chiron doesn’t want me focused on this… he says I should focus on my training instead and let Crow-Man handle the investigation.”

“Chiron usually knows what he’s talking about,” Thunder said. “You do need more training, but…”

There was a twinkle in Thunder’s eyes that Sam wasn’t sure he liked. It was the kind of twinkle kids had just before they went off to conduct mischief.

“What are you thinking?” Sam asked.

“I’m thinking you’re right… I do have a contact that could shed light on your… caper,” she said with a wry smile.

Thunder got up from their bench and stretched her body in that way a cat might do. Suddenly, she reached down for Sam’s arm.

“Come on,” she said as she dragged him up. “We’re going on a field trip.”

“Field trip?” Surprise flitted across Sam’s face. “Thunder, you can’t leave the hospital!”

“Actually, I can, lame-brain,” she insisted as he towed him across the wooden pathway of the garden. “My doctors won’t mind as long as I don’t use my powers and come back by nightfall.”

While they walked across the garden’s wooden pathway, something strange caught’s Sam’s eye, and he turned his head sideways to find that Ashley Day, the supposedly catatonic teenager, was giving him a curious look. And there was something in that look that sent a chill up Sam’s spine.

It was a strange feeling; one Sam could only remember experiencing once before. Back when the god, Apollo, had momentarily directed his divine awareness on an eight-year-old Sam who had been staring bright-eyed at the priestess Apollo had briefly possessed to bestow his gift on Sam.

Ashley’s expression returned to its glassy default as soon as their eyes locked though, almost like she’d only briefly broken through her stupor just so she could stare at him as he passed.

Sam would later realize that it was unfortunate he didn’t have time to figure out what the strange girl’s look meant. But Thunder was rushing him through the door into the hospital, and her eagerness for a day out in the city was overwhelming Sam’s brief bout of anxiety.

“Hurry it up, lame-brain,” she said, sounding way too enthusiastic for Sam’s liking.

Thunder’s assertions about being allowed to take day trips out of the hospital had been corroborated by the nurse who’d dropped by to help her change into some civilian clothes.

“Are you her chaperone?” Nurse Ortega asked Sam, and there wasn’t a hint of warmth in the look of her tanned face. “You better make sure Sarah does nothing strenuous, you understand?”

Nurse Ortega gave Sam an icy glare.

“That means no exercising of any kind… and that includes sex,” the brown-haired nurse emphasized.

Sam’s face had turned as red as an apple, and it was a great thing that Thunder was changing clothes in the bathroom or he’d probably have steam streaming out of his ears if she’d been standing next to him.

“We-we’re not…I-I wasn’t…” Sam was at a loss for words.

Luckily, Thunder had come out just in time to save him from the grumpy old nurse who had the worst impression of Sam.

“Whoa,” he whispered.

He had about a second to admire how pretty she looked in her New York Knicks cap, brown leather jacket, and skinny jeans before she wrapped her arm around his and dragged him out the door, all while promising Nurse Ortega that she’d be back before dark.

The other nurses in the nurse’s station where Thunder had to fill up some forms also gave Sam some weird looks. Even weirder, some of them expressed their encouragement with their side winks and knowing smiles.

This only made Sam blush more fiercely, prompting Thunder, who’d finally noticed the reddish shade of his cheeks, to ask if he was coming down with something.

Yeah, Sam thought. Death by embarrassment is an actual thing, right?

They were pressed together on the filled-up elevator while on their way down to the lobby. This only increased Sam’s nervousness.

Stupid Nurse Ortega putting crazy thoughts in my head, he thought.

After they’d walked through the hospital doors and waited for the Uber Thunder had called over, Sam was finally able to ask Thunder where she was taking him.

“To meet an old friend,” was all she said.

A black sedan parked in front of the curb they were standing on. Thunder opened its rear passenger door.

“Get in,” she said.

“Seriously,” Sam didn’t move, “where are we going?”

“Brooklyn,” Thunder said.

Sam frowned. He’s been living in Queens since the day he’d left Marie’s Manhattan home, and a Queens’s hero visiting Brooklyn almost never ended without trouble finding him somehow.

Thunder got into the cab without waiting for Sam.

“Are you coming?” she asked pointedly. “Or do you want to fool around some more?”

Sam sighed before he begrudgingly joined her inside the cab.

“Where to, miss?” asked the cab driver.

“270 Hicks Street in Brooklyn Heights,” she said, flashing a drachma at him. “Bonus if you make the ride quick.”

The sight of a genuine golden drachma was all the driver needed to put the pedal to the metal. And in midday New York traffic, that was the kind of recklessness that made Sam’s stomach churn.

“What’s in Brooklyn Heights?” Sam asked.

“Your clue,” Thunder answered flatly, prompting Sam to nudge her gently with an elbow to get her talking some more. “Madam Fate, you remember her?”

How could I forget the woman whose corpse I discovered in the Astoria fire? he thought. “Yeah… I remember her.”

“She’s one of the Fated Sisters, and since her death is linked to whatever’s happening right now, then it stands to reason that one of her sisters might have an answer for us,” Thunder explained.

“You mean…” Sam’s eyes widened as he realized what Thunder was up to. “We’re going to see Red Weaver?”

“Took you long enough, lame-brain,” Thunder said as she sat back in her seat. “Relax, I’ve visited her lots of times and she’s not as bad as people make her out to be.”

Sam was not assured by Thunder’s assurance, and his misgivings would later be proven right. At least for Sam, a Queens hero coming to Brooklyn really did mean trouble was right around the corner.