CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY-NINE

Death Valley, Part 2

It was sunset by the time the Argo VII arrived on an eastern ridge overlooking Death Valley’s Badwater Basin. The sinking sun bathed the western sky in orange hues that were reflected in the puddles of water at the very center of a valley of salt flats and crusts that evoked the shape of a beehive’s interior.

The heroes hidden behind the Argo VII’s camouflage mode watched from the comfort of their seats as a strange scene played out before them. Unsurprisingly, despite not having to worry about getting caught, they all wore worried expressions, with many of them sitting at the edge of their seats.

“There’s barely any water left in the basin,” Ice Brand whispered.

“That’s what you’re worried about, Jin-Oppa?” Miracle Girl asked incredulously.

Lined up in formation along the salt crusts of the valley, with their boots ankle-deep in the aptly named bad water, was an army of white-clad soldiers Sam and his friends have tangled with many times before. These two hundred or so Chimera agents stood at attention before a much larger solar dragon than Sam remembered, with its wing span nearly double the size from the time he’d hijacked that particular dragon’s back in his attempt to rescue Serena in Ares’ Grove.

“That thing’s looking all puffy…” Sam noted.

In his mind, Chiron replied, Maybe it’s been juicing up?

It was the same joke Thunder whispered into Sam’s ear, which made him laugh despite the direness of the scene below. “The apprentice is just like the master…”

Standing in front of the solar dragon, with her back to the Argo VII, was a familiar-looking woman. Long dark hair flowed down her back, ending in a neat gold band. She wore all-white clothes; a blouse and skirt that hugged her frail figure with a thick red sash wrapped around her waist.

Sam noticed the butcher’s knife she kept strapped to the back of her sash and thanked the gods Medea hadn’t used that thing against him the last time they’d fought.

“Crazy immortal sorceress sighted,” Farsight whispered with glee.

They were all looking at the screen that had appeared over the windshield as it had a crystal-clear, zoomed-in view of the scene at the very center of the basin.

“That’s Medea?” Ice Brand asked.

He was met by several, “Shush!”

Ice Brand didn’t understand why they’d called for quiet until he saw the sorceress glance over her shoulder, and they were all suddenly looking at Medea’s doll-like face; almond-shaped purple eyes, a pointy-ended button nose, and darkly painted lips between gaunt cheeks.

For a single breath, it almost seemed like those eyes were gazing straight in the direction of their camouflaged school bus. The heroes couldn’t breathe and they dared not move. But then the sorceress turned to face her followers once more, and the crew of the Argo VII let out a collective sigh of relief.

“Someone hit him please,” Farsight snapped.

Miracle Girl was only happy to oblige when she smacked Ice Brand on the shoulder.

“Thank you,” Farsight said.

“Even I know not to say a sorceress’s name out loud when you’re trying to hide from her gaze,” Jackboot chimed in.

Sam glanced sideways at his friend who seemed to be happy that Farsight’s ire was turned at someone else for a change.

“You don’t think she saw us, did you?” Thunder whispered.

Sam repeated Chiron’s words to her. “Trust that Mr. Marsday wouldn’t mess up that badly… so our friend says.”

“Sam…” Dr. Hearthstone pointed to the right of the screen.

They had been hidden by the solar dragon’s massive bulk so no one noticed them until they drew closer to Medea, but now Sam could see the side profile of a familiar tan-skinned girl dressed in a pristine Greek-style white robe and gossamer sandals. Her head was wrapped in a silk shawl that covered most of her face, but there was no mistaking the teal color of her eye. It was Pandora the 8th, Sam’s long-lost sister.

“Serena,” he whispered.

Thunder’s hand found his. She squeezed it gently, and Sam was grateful for the warmth she sent him.

“I’m okay,” he insisted. “I just… I don’t want to lose her again.”

“We’ll save her this time,” Thunder promised.

Appearing behind Pandora the 8th, a white bundle draped over his shoulder, was a tall man dressed in a familiar blue suit with bronze plating. He had short carrot-top hair and a long face that was set in a familiar expression of mischief.

Sam frowned. “The bastard’s still dressed like me…”

“No accounting for taste,” Farsight teased.

The Trickster walking around without power-dampening cuffs on his wrist was frustrating enough for all of those who’d tangled with him before, but all their eyes were widening at the sight of the bundle over his shoulder.

“Is that…?” Thunder began, to which Sam could only nod.

This bundle had the shape of a man, but his features were hidden by the white linen that wrapped around his entire body.

“Bloody Duat… they’ve done him up to look like some sort of… mummy,” Jackboot said.

From the corner of his eye, Sam watched as Raven Knight’s hand drifted to the handle of the rapier strapped to her belt.

“We need to save him,” she declared.

At her words, the others began getting up from their seats. However, Farsight raised her hand to stop them.

“We can’t yet,” she insisted. “We can’t move until we can confirm the location of the soul stone crates that they took from that warehouse.”

“Why?” Jackboot asked.

“Because if we can destroy the soul stones before they’re used then we clear the first requirement of this mission,” Sam deduced.

“We’ll launch a pinpoint javelin strike from the Argo VII, destroy those soul stones, and save Crow-Man and Pandora in the chaos,” Farsight explained.

“Remind me why we’re supposed to save a villain like Pandora the 8th too?” Miracle Girl asked.

Her annoyance was understandable as she’d been outside the entrance to the Endless Maze when Medea and Pandora the 8th ambushed their raid group, causing harm to many of the gathered heroes with Miracle Girl forced to take care of them afterward.

“She’s not a villain,” Sam insisted. “She’s a teenage girl who’s been brainwashed by Chimera into helping Medea commit crimes.”

“She deserves to be saved,” Thunder added.

“Right,” Miracle Girl replied, sounding unconvinced. “But what if she doesn’t want to go?”

“Then we knock her out and drag her away,” Farsight chimed in.

Sam frowned but didn’t argue. “Let’s call it… cognitive recalibration.”

Per Farsight’s plan, the team waited, and they waited, and they waited some more, but nothing exciting was happening apart from Medea giving her troops a long-winded speech about sacrifice and duty—the kind of stuff cult leaders uttered to their followers.

“Wait a minute…” Dr. Hearthstone smacked the underside of his fist against the armrest. “Didn’t the special task force’s report specify that Chimera didn’t have enough soul stones to empower a spell that could create a portal into Hades?”

Sam and Thunder nodded.

“But if they don’t have enough…” Sam began, to which Thunder finished with, “Then why are they gathered here now…”

“I want to know what she’s saying,” Dr. Hearthstone said. “Can we get better sound quality here?”

“I think I can boost the signal…” Thunder pressed a few keys on her dashboard. “There… this should do it.”

Medea’s chirpy voice rang clearer now over the speakers.

“For your bravery and courage, and your willingness to sacrifice for the cause…” they heard her say.

“Sounds like we’re finally at the tail-end of this speech,” Sam noted.

“…You will not be forgotten,” Medea yelled loud enough that those in the back could hear her. “For you have joined the ranks of the martyrs who’ve chosen to fight against the tyranny of the—”

“Gods,” Farsight gasped. “I know what’s happening… I know what she’s planning!”

She jumped into the cockpit and began the process of shifting the Argo VII’s gears from camouflage to…

“Bombardment mode,” Sam read on the screen by his station.

During the three-day journey across the American heartlands, he’d found time to browse through the Argo VII’s new manual, which is why Sam knew that ‘Bombardment Mode’ was the name for the Argo VII’s transformation into a rocket platform that would sacrifice the school bus’ mobility for long-range bombardment capabilities.

“All of you go!” Farsight ordered. “Stop them before it’s too late!”

“What do you—”

Sam saw what was happening on the screen, and his eyes widened in alarm.

At least a hundred of the white-clad soldiers raised their right hands—which at first looked to Sam like they’d just given Medea that famous Nazi salute—but then he noticed the objects in their hands, and realization dawned on him.

Holy Freaking Zeus… Kid, you gotta put a stop to this ritual, Chiron called urgently.

“I know…” Sam was already running toward the door.

The others were rushing after him as they all understood what was about to happen was something they couldn’t let happen. They filed out hurriedly, their feet landing on dry dirt. However, as they turned in direction of the valley floor, Sam knew they would be too late.

A ghostly blue light flared out of the basin, and with it came a hundred anguished cries.