Apple of Discord: Chapter 5

You can’t wait to get your own deck of tarot cards, and Joe B’s lesson has you refocused and feeling a tiny bit less weighed down by the weight of the Apple pieces.

Grey clears his throat. “You look a bit lighter. That’s nice,” Grey congratulates you.

“Yeah, seeing my instructors actually helps.”

“Hey there! Quick update,” Grey begins.

“Tree and Thomas Jefferson Jr., Caele, and Waffle Cone are on their way to the Tipps Iron and Steel Factory,” Grey reports.

“Wait? Waffle cone? I don’t understand,” you say, utterly confused.

You conjure an image of a tiny ice cream cone with legs and arms, dripping dangerously on Pontifex’s troops.

“It’s a handle or code name of sorts. Her actual name is Sofia, and she’s a Roman daughter of Vulcan. She’s a wonderful strategist and out-of the-box thinker. I’m told she has a wild sense of humor.

Caele is a daughter of Aphrodite and a deadly charmspeaker—everyone who meets her loves her.

Thomas Jefferson Jr. is an einherjar (a Norse demigod) from Hotel Valhalla who has been helping us out at Camp Half-Blood Austin for the last five years or so.

He and Topher go way back. Interesting story about those two. Remind me to tell you someday. Mr. D really likes having him around. You already know Tree.”

“Why the name Waffle Cone as a handle?” 

“No idea. You can ask her when you see her. I prefer to stay out of that kind of thing,” Grey replies dryly. 

Am I going to see her, you wonder.

“Good. Listen, while you trained I got some interesting news from T.K. He was a camper at Camp Half-Blood Austin branch and now works for Hermes Air as a courier.

He managed to recover a piece of the Apple and cleverly hid it in a Hermes Air box. He figured that with the protective seal of the Caduceus on the box magically sealing the packages, it would protect the apple piece from plague spirits.

Unfortunately, T.K. dropped the package during a disagreement with a particularly nasty Aurai. Something about a refund. It all happened, mid-flight and mid-delivery.

The box fell to earth. It’s in a nearby park actually. The plague spirits in the area have found it, but can’t get near it. T.K. says he’s allergic to plague spirits and asked if you could deal with it? He says he’s behind on deliveries.”

“The Apple is my thing,” you say, shrugging. “Also? Isn’t everyone sort of allergic to plague spirits? I mean, that’s kind of the point.” You roll your eyes.

“Get to the park, recover the piece of the Apple, protect any mortals in the area from getting killed and don’t die yourself. Sound like a good plan?” Grey asks.

“An apple a day keeps the plague spirits away?” You chuckle.

“You are smart and good-looking, not funny!” Grey says flatly.