Apple of Discord: Chapter 6

You shrug. “The markers?”

“Yes. Well, it turns out there is another obscure poetic reference to the markers.

“It ends abruptly there,” Grey explains.

“That sounds like it could be about a person not the markers,” you shrug.

“The columns, it seems, were hewn from the black marble of Mt. Tam, covered in imperial gold, and used to adorn Nero’s throne room. Purportedly they witnessed the wild swings in behavior he experienced on his way to undeserved, quasi-immortality. Get this.”

Grey’s voice leans into you, sounding almost conspiratorial. “It’s said that a former priest of Apollo was responsible for hacking the marble from the flesh of the mountain.”

Grey pauses for effect. “Pretty convenient that our boy, Pontifex was supposed to have been chained to the mountain itself. AND …,” Grey emphasizes, “there are shackle fittings attached to some of the markers. Coincidence? I think not!”

“That makes perfect sense. Almost too perfect,” you reply. “Could the poem be about Pontifex?”

“I suppose it could. Unfortunately there isn’t a lot of time to hash this stuff out,” Grey responds with a verbal shrug.

“Good point.” You chuckle.

“I like that,” Grey says smugly. “I think I’ll add that to my name. Grey Goodpoint.”

“The GGP!” You whoop.

“Okay, don’t go overboard.”

“Do we know what the markers do?” you ask.

“If I had to guess, I’d say they are a psychological siege weapon. Given our observations, the markers appear to be designed to start at the outer edges of a city or town.

They move inward every few hours. As they do, they increase the sense of hopelessness that already emanates from the flesh of the titanic marble. Those faces carved at the top of each column are the maniac expressions of Emperor Nero.

When you combine that with the Apple of Discord, it’s a wonder any of us are functional at all. How we aren’t all murdering one another is beyond me.”

“I’d like to think it’s because deep down we want the best for one another, you know? Some part of us knows that peace, kindness, and hope are best for everyone.

Even if some of us get confused by what that means and how that looks. There will always be evil lurking at the edges, trying to convince us we are alone, but the evil lies. You reminded me of that.”

“Remember when I told you that Ian McCord, son of Dionysus, tried selling the markers to Ryan? It sounded ridiculous at the time—selling something that doesn’t belong to you. But, as it turns out, that strategy may have some merit.

Let me show you the scheme the camp store crew have going on currently. After you watch the responses to Ryan’s earlier message, we’ll let this play out in the Half-Blood Assembly area. I think this silly contest will end up playing a significant role in the end, assuming we all survive.”

“So, I have a hard time understanding how this is going to help… at all,” you say shaking your head. “I feel like that’s a bunch of time I’m never going to get back.”

“Ha! That’s something Mr. D says about the camp store crew a lot.” Grey chuckles. “Topher too. Although, Topher understands the way they think about things, the way they plot and scheme for the greater good. He'd never admit it if you pressed him on it though.”

“This is one of those things I just need to trust you about, right?” you ask.

“Probably,” Grey admits.

“What about the auction with Kerkopes brothers?” you ask.